


Requiem of the Goddess

by Yoshiyuki_Ly



Category: Mass Effect - All Media Types, Mass Effect Trilogy
Genre: Dom/sub, Drama & Romance, F/F, Power Dynamics, Power Play, Psychological Drama, Romance, Science Fiction
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-01-04
Updated: 2021-02-21
Packaged: 2021-03-04 01:00:45
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 54
Words: 837,290
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24654982
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Yoshiyuki_Ly/pseuds/Yoshiyuki_Ly
Summary: Goddess of mind, goddess of heart - closed-off without consent, She cannot flourish; unlocked to the universe in trust and control, She protects from all outside influences. Only one sits atop the throne of Shepard's subjectivity in worship. Renegon Infiltrator FemShep. Power plays, intense loves. Spans the Mass Effect Trilogy.
Relationships: Female Shepard/Aria T'Loak, Female Shepard/Ashley Williams, Female Shepard/Liara T'Soni, Female Shepard/Tali'Zorah nar Rayya, Miranda Lawson/Female Shepard
Comments: 67
Kudos: 68





	1. Center of the Universe - ME1

**Author's Note:**

> **Note.** This story is about the death of an idea. Death of a belief, a 'goddess'. Her influence is only as great as your subjective belief in her—until that belief evolves, or dies.  
>  **Warnings.** As linked to the plot, expect Dominance/submission (D/s) relationship/s with romance, sex, drama, and power plays. Mental and emotional kinks above all.  
>  **Pairings.** Ashley/FemShep, Liara/FemShep. Miranda/FemShep and Aria/FemShep feature later on after Mass Effect 1. Tali plays a role that grows stronger over time.  
>  **Disclaimer.** I don't own Mass Effect or any of the characters, lore, etc.
> 
>  **Additional heads-up: (updated January 1, 2021)**  
>  Please keep an open mind while reading. Yes, this story is character-driven. We're following the canon events of the trilogy. With some exceptions. But the major characters (Ashley, Liara, Miranda, Aria, and Tali) are all so much more than their status as Shepard's love interest. I'm playing the long-game. I really, seriously am. Be patient with me.
> 
>  **Music:**  
>  I'm obsessive about atmosphere, details, and emotion. Any songs I list at the start of a chapter, I listened to on repeat while writing, shaping my style. If there's more than one song, then they're for separate scenes/moments, in chronological order as listed. Listen to them if you'd like, or don't—the music is there if you want it.

_For the ones who tried before._

Requiem of the Goddess

By

Yoshiyuki Ly

**_Mass Effect 1_ **

" _Hope Overture" from Requiem for a Dream_

 **I.** Center of the Universe

_(Sol Shepard)_

Center of my scope.

Center of the universe.

Right in my crosshairs.

Thin as the threads threading us all together.

The same threads that I denied each day, yet they pulled at me like strings anyway, determined to make me think one way, speak this way, act some way:

Resisting was the _only way_ for me to stay alive.

Hiding, slithering, crawling: I had clawed my way through these vents in Chora's Den here on the Citadel, down in the Wards, following a lead, and chasing after Saren Arterius, a rogue Spectre who needed to be stopped. Muted blues and beaming reds, the asari and human women dancers still lined the place—along the walls, along the raised platform in the center—performing for the customers and the army of mercs here. These mercs were really here to have a good time, not guard the one who'd hired them.

Alone, I stayed here in these vents, scouting out the scene in this gentleman's club. As slim and flexible as I was in my stealth suit, all-black, these small spaces weren't a problem for me. Only the weight of my sniper rifle over my back could have ever posed a problem. Liberated from that now, I had the length posted along the run of this vent, pointed through a filter with just enough room to shoot from. With my hair pulled back into a long tail behind me, I was free to focus.

My one lead, the club's lowlife owner named Fist, was through here in his office, hiding behind all of these loaded mercs and their guns. Not wanting to cause a scene in a club full of civilians, I had told my squad to wait outside. I needed to find a more covert path to Fist's office instead. But, with this last blockade in my way where there shouldn't have been, I knew we had Fist scared—enough to block off all ventilation to his office if it meant keeping someone like me away from him.

Those familiar threads thrummed and drummed in minor spasms in my hold, rumbled by the bass of the music within these walls.

Tinned against the metal all around me, the music filtered through my ears as a silver haze, silvered more as I took one final count of all of the mercs here in the club.

Spying through my scope, I spotted at least a dozen of them, distracted as they all were by the music, the drinking, the dancing, and the temptations of a hookup or two taking them away from their duties.

I couldn't afford to wait for them to leave on their own.

Most of them seemed drunk enough: staggering and slurring, we could take them out now and be done with it.

I radioed my squad on standby outside: "Wrex, Ashley—do you copy?"

" _Loud and clear, Shepard,"_ grunted Wrex, the depths of his baritone almost blending in with the bass blasting through my ears. _"Say the word and we'll go. That coward Fist better be waiting for my gun."_

" _Ready and able, Commander,"_ stated Ashley, clearer, straight-forward, the rasp of her voice almost _getting_ to me in this lustful atmosphere. _"Take it you weren't able to find a quicker way through?"_

"Fist blocked the vent with some indestructible material. Short of letting him suffocate in his office, we have to storm the club. I'll take the first shot. Should scare off the civilians. Once they're gone, I want you two to launch an assault on the rest of the mercs. Then we'll head for Fist's office and get the info we're looking for. Kill him or don't—doesn't matter. We need that intel on the quarian before anything."

Wrex chuckled in sadistic satisfaction. _"This should be fun. Those mercs had enough to drink yet?"_

"Most of them are wasted. We'll hit them hard and fast before they have a chance to escape. If we get overwhelmed, I'll call Garrus and Kaidan for backup. For now, they're staying at their posts to keep any more civilians from entering this area."

" _Sounds good,"_ agreed Ashley. _"Waiting for your signal."_

"As soon as you hear my shot, run in."

" _Roger that!"_

One human merc, a man without a face, the red of it in this lighting hidden behind his beer bottle:

He sat in a chair, his hand at his groin, watching as an asari danced on a pole right in front of him.

The slight swing of my scope as I kept him in my center, right between his dilated eyes so fixated on the woman validating his existence. This sensitivity kept me grounded. This difficulty kept me focused. The slight, sensitive, difficult familiarity of this movement dissipated my breaths to silence, dimmed the music to nothing; diluted all of my worries to nihilism.

Just this single shot, this precision, this signal—

Readying, and firing, the _loudness_ , echoing hard in this vent, and the kickback—

The blast of his head, popping as a fleshy balloon of blood, spattering and sticking against the wall—

And the backlash as the civilians _screamed_.

Ashley and Wrex rushed in against the wave of their panicking.

They ran through the cries rippling out from the peoples' throats heated by alcohol and drugs and more.

Sober in their shooting, my squad blasted through the mercs without issues, the element of surprise going a long way, farther than even how wasted the enemies were.

Limited as this space was, I picked off what mercs I could, what with the center platform in my way. Keeping my own surprise, no one was aware enough to spot the sniper shots coming out from the vent. Up at this height, I bolstered Ashley and Wrex, getting to anyone in their blind spots.

Only barely, I heard shouting and screaming filtering in from Fist's office, echoing through to me.

One last groan of death from a merc, and my squad holstered their weapons.

"That's it," called Ashley. "Bag 'em and tag 'em! Commander, you still there?"

Wrex looked around. "Hey, Shepard, where the hell are you?"

I kicked the metallic filter out from in front of me. The clang of the steel hit the ground right as I jumped from the vent. Sniper rifle in-hand, I landed on the balls of my feet, legs bent, my fall softened with my limbs as my hydraulics. Noticing the shocked looks my squad gave me, I folded my rifle over my back.

Ashley expressed her awe: "Is _that_ how you do things when we're not out in the field, Ma'am?"

"You know enough about me by now, Williams," I told her, heading down the hall to Fist's office; _knowing_ that the dark brown of her eyes tracked my hair, my hips as I went. "Better get used to it."

Grumbling in disapproval, Wrex followed after me. "Can't you just be straightforward, Shepard? Why all the sneaking around? Never understood your kind. What's the point of fighting if no one _sees_ you?"

"Commander Shepard's among the best in the Alliance," boasted Ashley—on my behalf—as she stepped over a few merc corpses to keep up with us. "The best of the best, really. N7 Infiltrator with glowing commendations, graduated at the top of her class. The commander wiped out every single batarian on Torfan without being spotted, not once! All they heard was her sniping. Those bastards didn't know what hit them until it was too late. Serves them right for what they did to us during the Skyllian Blitz."

"Oh, yeah, I heard about Torfan," remembered Wrex, sounding impressed enough. "That was Shepard?"

"The one and only!"

"Huh. Well, then, I take back what I said. Guess we all have our methods of getting the job done."

Gunnery Chief Ashley Williams would always be the first to sing my praises.

Passing through these dark halls on the way to Fist's office, I felt the shift about her: how much of her own words had reflected back in on her, making Ashley look into a mirror she didn't quite want to face.

I couldn't let myself wonder about the truth there.

Then again, there was no need to _wonder_.

I knew, and I felt it from her—like fire blazing out from the sun itself—yet I turned away.

Even I knew better than to stare straight into the sun.

As another door halved and opened for us, a pair of so-called guards aimed their lousy pistols at us.

I pulled out my sidearm.

Ashley and Wrex backed me up, assault rifle and shotgun raring to go.

"Oh, shit," freaked one of the guards. "You guys are the real deal!"

"Fuck that," said the other one, trying to sound tough. "We're here to protect Fist!"

Gesturing behind me, I pointed out, "We just killed all of those mercs to get here. What do you think we'll do to you?"

"Uhh…"

"Ugh, forget it—Fist doesn't pay us enough for this."

They went on their way.

Wrex seemed confused. "Would've been faster to just kill 'em."

I disagreed—"We only kill when it's justified. If you're going to stick with me, Wrex, you'd better drill that into your head. This isn't the mercenary life you're used to. Not anymore."

"When you're a krogan, killing is a way of life. Starts not to matter once you're as old as I am."

Making a point, I stopped to look him right in the eye. "I get it: you're a krogan battlemaster. That doesn't mean you have to stay stuck in your ways! Like I said earlier, you're free to kill Fist once we get what we need. With anything else, I expect you to use your head before you fire your gun. Am I clear?"

Undeniable ire of the red of his eyes, narrowed in wrath.

Wrex snarled, the mangle of the scarred, mangled skin over his wide mouth rumbling in a low roar.

Watching in horror, Ashley looked torn between breaking us up and staying frozen where she was.

I pierced his rage with a glare of my own, holding _nothing_ back. The same focus I kept in my scope; the same concentration I put into every single shot as I lined them up, I gave to him.

Grumbling in concession, Wrex stepped back from me.

"Fine," he allowed. "Have it your way, Shepard. I'll follow you."

Ashley let out a breath. " _Damn_ , you two. That was…intense."

"Let's move on," I ordered, heading to the final door to the office. "We'll get in here, wear Fist down, and get the information we need on that quarian. Be ready."

Clicks and shifts of weight from Ashley's rifle and Wrex's shotgun—at the ready.

Busting through the door, I let my squad go through first, drawing Fist's fire. He shouted at us, trying to break our focus, while he hid behind his ridiculous automated turrets. Such limited space in here—I popped out from cover where I could, shooting my pistol at the turrets to disable them.

Constant, loud, banging from the heat of projectiles flying out from our guns, endless noise, until Fist quickly fell to the ground, done in by a shot to the arm from Ashley.

Wrex stepped over to him, shotgun primed. "The Shadow Broker says hello. It's been a long time coming."

"Wait, wait!" cried Fist, shielding himself with his uninjured arm. "Can't we talk this through?!"

I pressed him, "Where's the quarian? We heard you set up a meeting between her and the Broker."

"Yeah, I set up the meeting… B-But it's not what she thinks. No one meets the Shadow Broker, not in person. She doesn't know that. Some of Saren's agents will be there instead…waiting to ambush her."

"You son of a bitch," I hissed. "Where is she?!"

"She…she should be at the meeting now, in the back alley, near the markets. If you hurry, you might—"

Blast of blood and heat, and Wrex fired his gun, leaving Fist a gory mess on the office floor.

Ashley almost gagged from the suddenness, yelling, "Damnit, Wrex, was that really necessary?!"

Wrex shrugged. "He gave us the info, didn't he? At least I waited."

"We don't have time for this," I said, bolting from the office. "Let's move, people!"

Already I had dashed down the hall, running back into the club.

Around the circular platform in the middle and back outside.

We couldn't lag behind.

We couldn't risk something happening to this quarian—our final, final lead now that Fist was dead.

I heard Ashley and Wrex calling out to me:

"Shepard, wait! _Commander!_ We're not that fast!"

"Hang on a minute, why don't you?!"

Ashley running, but slowed down by her hardsuit, trying and failing to catch up;

Wrex lumbering after her, breaths heaving in his heavy weight compared to me;

They could catch up on their own time.

Spotting the entrance to the back alley, I was about to radio Garrus and Kaidan. One of them rounded the corner to the alley; I nearly ran them over, but didn't stop. Only when I pushed through the door and recalled the distinct sight of a turian's scales and the color blue, did I realize who it was.

"Hey, Commander!" shouted Garrus. "Where's the fire?!"

Somewhere in the near distance, Kaidan radioed Ashley and Wrex for an explanation—"What's going on?! Did we find the quarian? Shepard just sprinted by us like a bolt of lightning!"

Still on this frequency, I overheard Ashley's breathless summary, yet I had to block it out.

Slowing, quieting, I reached the back alley, and found our target.

Hiding by a few crates, I scoped out the scene.

From behind, I had a view of the quarian: the blue-violet of her suit sticking out against the beaming red filter of the light in this place. One of Saren's turian thugs stood close to her—way too close to her—feeling her up while trying to get her to hand over the intel she had.

Whatever that intel was, it would be enough to land Saren in hot water.

If he got his hands on it before I could, then my entire operation was finished.

"C'mon, baby," whispered the thug, leering at her. "Why don't you give me that info now? I'll make it worth your while—"

Unimpressed and uncomfortable, the quarian slapped the thug's wandering hand away from her.

"No way," she stated, to-the-point. "The deal's off."

She sounded young, but this girl wasn't stupid.

In over her head, maybe—I spotted more thugs approaching the scene, ready to take the quarian out.

I pulled out my sniper rifle and lined up my shots.

The quarian screamed when my first shot burst through the turian's head.

His bloodied flesh spattered against the hard material of her helmet.

The quarian scrambled back in a panic; I took out the rest of the thugs in the distance. She heaved for breath, holding her head as if to cover her ears from the booming, the panicking from those thugs, until their bodies fell to the ground, and left only silence.

By the time I holstered my rifle over my back, the quarian was on the ground, sitting and rocking herself.

Not liking any of this, I went over to her anyway.

"Hey," I said. "I've been looking for you. What's your name?"

"You… _you_ —" The quarian fought to keep breathing. "You sniped those thugs like they were _nothing!_ And _you_ are looking for _me_? _Keelah!"_

I grit my teeth.

"Look, I'm not here to hurt you," I tried, hoping my squad would get here soon. "You have something that I need. Now what's your name—?"

The quarian choked back a sob. "Goddamn you!" she shouted at me. "You have no idea what I've seen, what I've gone through to get here! I had to deal with racist C-Sec officers who wouldn't listen to my pleas for help, I lost one of my friends while thinking I could be next, and now here _you_ are, yet another insensitive _bosh'tet_ who needs something from me! Why is everyone in this galaxy so heartless?!"

I had no idea what the fuck a _bosh'tet_ was, but it _sounded_ like something that should've pissed me off!

Before I could explode, my squad hurried through to us.

"Shepard!" cried Ashley, sounding relieved. She collapsed against the nearest wall, exhausted. "Thank God…there you are!"

Wrex leaned over to catch his breath. "Is that…that the quarian we're looking for?"

"Looks like it," noted Garrus, not nearly as winded. "Hmm, she seems upset. Everything all right?"

Kaidan recognized my quiet struggle here, and came over to us. "Hey there," he said to the quarian, gentle, as he knelt down with her. "I'm Lieutenant Kaidan Alenko, with the Alliance. This here's Commander Shepard, our leader. Are you okay? You're a little shaken up."

"Only _a little_ , huh?" mused the quarian, trying to wipe the blood and spattered brains from her helmet. "I guess that's not so bad… I could be doing worse."

"A lot worse, yeah, I agree," humored Kaidan, placing his hand over her shoulder. "What's your name?"

"Tali. Tali'Zorah nar Rayya."

"Well, Tali'Zorah, we've been looking for you. We heard you have some information on the Spectre named Saren. But, I think that can wait for now. Commander, we should get her to the med clinic here in the Wards. She may need medical attention."

"She's fine, Lieutenant," I pointed out. "I made sure no one hurt her. Don't you see the bodies?"

With respect, Kaidan countered, "Yes, Commander, I see them. It's just, not all wounds are physical. She's clearly seen some things she shouldn't have. Dr. Michel should take a look at her."

I really didn't want to delay this business with taking Saren down.

But with Garrus, Ashley and even Wrex looking over at me as if they agreed with Kaidan, I had no choice.

Alenko helped Tali'Zorah to her feet.

We all escorted her over to the med clinic, accepting this delay.

* * *

Inside the med clinic, my squad stood nearest around Tali'Zorah as Dr. Michel cleaned her up.

They listened to her story about how she was on her Pilgrimage, a rite of passage for quarians in the Migrant Fleet, and her tale of how she and her friend had come across a geth memory core.

Realizing the danger and the value of the information they found within the core, they first went to Illium to report this to the authorities. The racist jackasses wouldn't take them seriously, so they stowed away on a freighter to reach the Citadel instead.

After more struggles and more setbacks, they learned that the Council couldn't help them—not any time soon—as the average waiting time to have an audience with them was at least nine months. So they turned to the Shadow Broker instead, hoping to have better luck, only to get tricked by Fist in the end, and nearly taken in by Saren's thugs—until I showed up.

Tali'Zorah had lost her friend in the middle of all of this. Like she'd said, she could have been next.

Leaning against a far wall, away from almost everyone, I could only wonder what it was like to feel that fear.

I hadn't felt that in so long.

_Not in years._

"Sounds like a hell of a time," commiserated Garrus. "How'd you manage to make it out alive?"

Sitting up in her bed now, Tali'Zorah buried her face—helmet—in her hands. "I don't know, honestly," she grieved. "I was so caught up in _trying_ to do the right thing. Going to the authorities. Reporting what I had heard about Saren. I had no idea that the galaxy outside the Flotilla was such a cold, hard place."

Wrex sounded sympathetic enough. "You'll need some tougher skin to survive out here, Tali," he advised. "Sometimes it's not so bad. You can find some good people, comrades you can trust. Other times, it's worse. Best to be prepared for anything."

"That's the thing," said Tali. "Whenever I knew what to expect, whether it was fighting the geth or figuring out our next transportation, I was fine. My mistake was believing that Illium's police force or C-Sec would actually listen to me. They dismissed my concerns and called me a _suit rat!_ Before I began my Pilgrimage, I'd heard of such things happening. Not from the _police_ , from people we should trust!"

Garrus knew better. "C-Sec isn't all it's cracked up to be," he counseled. "A lot of them are a bunch of assholes who couldn't survive a day out in the real world. So they put other people down whenever they can, all to make themselves feel better. It's a vicious cycle of power and abuse."

"Yeah," agreed Kaidan. "I've heard the same thing… Sorry you had to go through that, Tali'Zorah."

"Thanks," accepted Tali, sounding better. "I appreciate it. You've all been so kind to me. Well—" She stopped herself. I was over here by a medi-gel dispenser; Ashley was with me, avoiding the conversation to stay by my side. "Most of you, anyway. I'll grow that tougher skin you mentioned, Wrex."

Wrex chuckled. "If you need any help, feel free to let me know. I'm an old fossil. Plenty of stories to tell."

Tali laughed with him, adding, "Sure. Maybe I'll do just that."

"If you're up for it, Tali," offered Garrus, "We could bring you to the human embassy on the Presidium, get you an audience with Ambassador Udina instead. If your evidence is compelling enough, we could bring this information directly to the Council—without that nine-month waiting period, mind you."

"Really?!"

Kaidan smiled over her delight. "Yup, really!" he assured her. "We've got friends in high places. Or, uh, at least Commander Shepard does. She's in charge of this mission."

Ashley finally had something to say, "No joke. The Commander's under special consideration to become a Spectre when this is all over. Your intel could be just what we need to get her over the finish line."

Tali'Zorah took a moment to regard my team, one by one. She took note of the people I'd chosen to surround myself with: how encouraging they were to her, how nice they were to her. Even Ashley was polite enough, at least, once she did speak up.

I felt the beginning, a slice of her benefit of the doubt as she looked on at me.

It didn't matter that I couldn't actually see her face, or what her expression was.

All I knew was that she had made up her mind:

I couldn't have been all that bad if these were the people who chose to follow me.

"I think it might be," offered Tali, well enough to get up from her bed. "I see why you were in such a hurry before, Commander. Sorry for slowing you down. We can head over whenever you're ready."

Garrus worried for her, "You sure you're fit to go?"

"Yes, Garrus, I'm sure. I'll be fine, I promise. We have more important things to worry about."

"Then let's head out," I ordered, leaving the med clinic with everyone.

* * *

Taking the rapid transit to the Presidium with _everyone_ in the same car might've been a mistake.

Everyone except for Ashley sitting next to me had warmed up to Tali'Zorah quite quickly, with each of them telling her the story of how they had met me. As if I couldn't hear them, they went on about their first impressions of me— _"She can be a real hardass;" "she's damned skilled and it's an honor to know her;" "I wouldn't wind up alone with her in a back alley again if I were you"_ —all to make Tali laugh, to help her feel welcome with us.

I hadn't even formally invited her to join up with us, but it looked like they had all decided for me.

Reaching the Presidium and getting out of that car was a godsend. But Ashley kept following directly after me, closer than usual for some reason—making me _wonder_ too much about this, and about her. Again, there was so much from Ashley, her emotions shouting in silence: for me to look at her, for me to acknowledge the way she walked right next to me, close enough to cause these fumes to rise from my chest, so painful in pleasure and in pressure, nearly bursting from this dam over my heart.

I didn't know enough about her.

_And I was her commanding officer._

She needed me to be her leader—or really, _I_ needed to be her leader, and nothing more.

No matter how beautiful Ashley was in her curiosities, and no matter how much she sparked my imagination—how she would glance over at me, wondering about me, too—I couldn't let myself give in.

I knew for a fact that she was straight. She had to be.

All I wanted was to get on with the mission—not waste time with these…pointless thoughts of her.

Ambassador Udina and Captain Anderson were here waiting in the spick and span of the all-white embassy office, willing to listen to Tali's evidence and testimony of how she'd acquired this recording of hers—the perfect recording of Saren, and some other woman I didn't know, admitting to their plans:

" _Eden Prime was a major victory. The beacon has brought us one step closer to finding the Conduit."_

" _And one step closer to the return of the Reapers."_

"This evidence is irrefutable!" declared Udina. "It proves that Saren's gone rogue. We must bring this to the Council at once!"

Anderson puzzled over the second voice. "I'm not sure who that woman is," he mentioned. "And what's this about the Reapers? What could they be?"

Tali'Zorah knew: "According to the memory core, the Reapers are a race of sentient machines. They wiped out the Protheans several thousand years ago, leaving next to no trace left behind. The geth seem to worship them as gods."

Udina dismissed the claims. "Sounds like some fairy tale, or a myth!" he blustered. "There's no time to linger on whether or not it's true. This matter with Saren is far more pressing! I will arrange for a meeting with the Council immediately. Now, if you'll excuse me…"

Anderson scowled at the ambassador as he left. "Not even a thank you? No gratitude whatsoever," he soured. He then looked to Tali. "Tali'Zorah, was it?"

"Yes, Captain," replied Tali.

" _Thank you_ for bringing this to our attention. I'm sure it took a lot of effort and skill to extract this recording from that geth's memory core. You've just saved this operation and helped us move our mission forward. Your evidence has turned out to be vital for us."

"You're too kind. I couldn't have done this without the people helping me along the way… I only wish they could have been here to see this, too."

"I completely understand," empathized Anderson. "We're all here thanks to the ones who came before. Don't you think so, Commander?"

"Yeah, Shepard," agreed Wrex, obviously needling me. "Tali's done a great thing for us. Wouldn't have made it this far without her."

Garrus listed off: "Tech expert, crafty and resilient when it matters, able to defend herself in combat… I'd say we have the perfect candidate for a new squad mate. Wouldn't you?"

Lieutenant Alenko wouldn't dare poke fun at me like this.

I felt how much he wanted to chime in with his agreement; saw it in the glow in his eyes.

Ashley only gave a pithy, bitchy laugh, keeping her comments to herself.

Accepting that this was a battle I couldn't win, I went over to Tali.

"We're on a mission to bring down Saren," I informed her. "This recording will help us get his Spectre status rescinded. But that's only the beginning. Whatever he's up to with the geth, the Reapers, and that Conduit he mentioned—we need to put a stop to it. And it sounds to me like your tech skills and knowledge of the geth will be invaluable. Can we count on you in this fight?"

"Absolutely, Shepard," replied Tali, solemn. "That Saren's made my Pilgrimage so far a living hell… It's time I returned the favor in any way I can."

"Welcome aboard, Tali'Zorah," I stated, offering my hand—my left hand, per quarian customs.

Tali warmed to me as she accepted my gesture, shaking my hand with a precision I hadn't expected.

"Thanks for believing in me, Commander. You won't regret this."

I believed her.

Once it was time, we made our way over to the Citadel Tower for our second meeting with the Council.

Again I felt surrounded by the quiet beauty of this place: the eternal dusk of the lighting, the height of the pearl white hallways and balconies all around leading to special Council offices, and the gentle touch of the cherry blossom trees everywhere, forever in bloom.

United against me during our first visit, the asari councilor, the turian councilor, and the salarian councilor had taken Saren's word over mine, refusing to believe that he was up to anything.

Standing here with my squad behind me—Chief Williams, Lieutenant Alenko, Urdnot Wrex, Garrus Vakarian, and now Tali'Zorah—with Ambassador Udina and Captain Anderson at my side, I accepted the weight, the gravity of the truth—that I wouldn't have been here without them, _all of them_.

Standing here before the Council again, I understood Tali's pain and suffering: how she'd felt betrayed by the authorities, by the ones who were supposed to protect us. Those who had sworn their lives to service were apparently as prejudiced and fucked up as regular people, if not more so.

Remembering the sting of the Council's original rejection of my pleas, I plated up my pain behind my usual shields, pushing forward to this new path instead.

Because now, the Council was far more open-minded. Now, the Council listened as Saren implicated himself in the attack on Eden Prime. Now, the Council corroborated that second voice, supposedly belonging to an asari named Matriarch Benezia, who was Saren's second-in-command.

Both of them were guilty, and both of them were traitors to the Council, to their respective species.

Faced with this undeniable evidence, the Council had no choice but to believe us this time.

"Commander Shepard," said the salarian councilor. "On behalf of the Council, I extend my deepest apologies to you for our disagreements during the last session. You must understand: we cannot blindly believe any and every allegation against our special agents. We require evidence."

"Which you have now provided," agreed the asari councilor. "Saren will be stripped of his Spectre status, effective immediately. Further, we commend your handling of your affairs here on the Citadel, in chasing down your individual leads and arriving to the truth."

The turian councilor clarified: "You completed your tasks while avoiding civilian casualties. While the damage to Chora's Den is unfortunate, we can repair. It is also saddening to learn that the club's owner was so deeply involved in Saren's less-than-legal affairs."

Ambassador Udina pushed the issue for me—"Councilors, has Shepard not proven herself worthy? She has done everything you asked. She has gone above and beyond the call of duty in her commitment to this Council, even in the face of your own doubts! It is past time you rewarded her for her dedication!"

Captain Anderson disapproved of how tactless the ambassador was—"Save it, Udina! This isn't the time for you to bully the Council around!"

"I must agree with the captain," said the turian councilor. "In fact, the more the ambassador speaks, the less willing we are to move forward with this controversial candidacy. You humans are reckless at best, and, at worst, absolute _bullies_ … So, Commander Shepard, make your case—why should we give you the sacred honor of becoming the first human Spectre?"

Earthborn.

My ancestors' history.

Too many people judging me because of how _pretty_ I was.

The mixed-race complexion of my skin; my sexual orientation.

So many more people that judged me for the way I survived back on Earth: the high-paying career I had before, and how I'd hated it the whole damned time, before I enlisted with the Alliance and found my own freedom in service—

And then, this next step of the three most important figures in the galaxy discriminating against me because I was _human_.

No matter my reservations, I had to make them see me:

"Councilors, this isn't about humanity. This is about who can get the job done! I brought this team together to show you that you're not always right. You _don't_ have all the answers. Sometimes, the truth is hidden way beyond your reach, and it takes _hard work_ to get to reality. I proved that I'm willing to do whatever's necessary for that bottom line—without being reckless! Call me a bully if you want—I only take drastic action when it's absolutely justified, when I can back up my choices with cold, hard facts.

"All I'm asking for is the benefit of the doubt. You don't trust me as a person? Fine, make me work for it more. But if you just don't like me because I'm _human?_ I suggest you take a good, long look at yourselves, and ask if it's worth it. Judge me by my actions. Not by what I look like, and not by what you might assume—not by the things I have no control over. Define me by my work, _not_ by my race!"

The last bastion of prejudice stared me down as the councilors looked to one another, deciding.

Behind me, I sensed my squadmates looking to each other as well, truly contemplating what I'd just said.

The councilors soon reached their decision, pressing a few buttons on their respective panels.

The asari councilor addressed me first: "Commander Shepard, step forward."

Ashley's gasp, and the rest of the murmurs from my squad—

I noticed the sudden congregation of people, of other politicians, and of complete strangers up on the balconies overlooking the proceedings. Knowing that this moment played out in real-time across the galaxy, I could deal with the weight of these strangers, and of my crew showing the emotions that I wasn't allowed to express.

I stepped forward with this knowledge, bearing my control proudly over my chest.

The asari councilor continued, "It is the decision of the Council that you be granted all the powers and privileges of the Special Tactics and Reconnaissance branch of the Citadel. You have proven your level-headedness in the face of conflict, your ruthlessness in the face of those deserving of your decisive action, and your consideration for the innocent and the helpless, no matter the circumstances."

The salarian councilor added, "Spectres are not trained, but chosen. Individuals forged in the fire of service and battle; those whose actions elevate them above the rank-and-file. Your special training as an N7 Infiltrator has given you the tools to persevere alone, to survive alone, and to succeed alone—but you have amassed a loyal squad of fighters who believe in your cause, just as we believe in you."

"Spectres are an ideal—a symbol," said the asari councilor. "The embodiment of courage, determination, and self-reliance. They are the right-hand of the Council, instruments of our will."

The turian councilor spoke, "Spectres bear a great burden. They are protectors of galactic peace, both our first and last line of defense. The safety of the galaxy is theirs to uphold. Your work is exemplary, and your history—how you managed to survive such a rough upbringing in your youth back on Earth—are all testaments to your strength of character, and your unwavering spirit."

The asari councilor congratulated me: "You are the first human Spectre, Commander. This is a great accomplishment for you and your entire species. May you forever be a friend to the Council, our protector. And may you forever be a friend and a protector to all in the galaxy who deserve you."

"Thank you, Councilors," I accepted, head bowed; keeping in-check this budding feeling in my chest.

"We're sending you into the Traverse after Saren," relayed the salarian councilor. "He's a fugitive from justice, so you are authorized to use any means necessary to apprehend or eliminate him."

The turian councilor said, "We will forward any relevant files to Ambassador Udina."

The asari councilor concluded: "This meeting of the Council is adjourned."

* * *

Arriving to the docking bay with my team and Captain Anderson, I saw how much had changed in such a short time. Right before we'd touched down on Eden Prime, I'd learned that I was a candidate for the Spectres—and now I had earned my place.

Now that Anderson had chosen to step down, I was in charge of the _Normandy_ , of this entire operation.

I had never been the captain of my own ship before.

Commanding my own unit—sure.

Telling everyone to stay down while I cloaked and sniped off on my own—absolutely.

The gentle violet and reds lighting down on the docking bay from the Wards: they calmed me, kept my worries away as I processed these new changes. Underneath this lighting, I watched as Wrex, Ashley, Tali'Zorah, Kaidan, and Garrus made their way back to the _Normandy_ nearby.

I wasn't their executive officer anymore with Captain Anderson in charge.

I couldn't just kick up _those other_ responsibilities up the chain of command.

They would expect more from me—maybe more than I was equipped to give them at this point in time.

Anderson approached me for a final briefing:

Geth sightings on Feros likely pointed to Saren's involvement somehow.

Matriarch Benezia was on Noveria for some reason, probably doing Saren's bidding.

And then there was the matriarch's daughter, Dr. Liara T'Soni, who was out on an expedition on Therum, a mining world.

She may have had some answers about the Protheans that got wiped out by the Reapers. Hopefully, she knew what her mother was up to as well.

Anderson handed me the file on Dr. T'Soni that Udina had given him.

"Therum's out in the Artemis Tau cluster," he informed me. "I've heard the reports coming in from the Alliance… The geth have a massive presence out there. Now that we know the attack on Eden Prime was Saren's doing, we can confirm that the geth are acting under his orders. Dr. T'Soni is Matriarch Benezia's daughter—Saren may be trying to detain her."

Adding to this urgency, Anderson let me hear the worry in his voice: "I'm concerned about the doctor's safety, Commander. I'd recommend picking her up first before the geth do. Considering the sheer number of hostiles near the mines where Dr. T'Soni is, this may have to be a one-woman job. You know the drill. That file has up-to-date schematics for all known tunnels within those mines."

Just a slight look at her photo on this datapad.

That eye-catching blue of an asari's skin, and the brightness of her eyes, so _innocent_.

So motherfucking innocent, she seared me with her stare at no one, with this kindness in her likeness.

Only a taste, only a tease: a partial glance, quickly hidden, because I didn't trust myself like this.

"Understood, Sir," I acknowledged, pushing these harsher instincts down. "We'll leave for Therum right away. I'll get in those mines, get her out quietly, and extract her with the _Normandy's_ stealth drive _._ "

"You're in charge now, Commander. You don't report to me anymore. Remember: any debriefings after your mission would merely be a courtesy to me. You only need to debrief the Council going forward."

I was about to leave, to salute my former captain, but I knew him.

This aura about Anderson.

He had more to say.

Or at least, more to give.

Anderson handed me another datapad. "Considering you're in a hurry to get to Dr. T'Soni," he started, "I wrote this for you. You're a lone wolf, and this will be the first time you serve as the head of a full ship and a more long-term crew. Not that you _need_ any advice from anyone, Commander. Take this as a few words of friendly suggestions from your old captain."

"Thank you, Anderson," I accepted. "I'll read this over as soon as I get the chance."

"I appreciate it, Shepard. That's all I can ask for."

I saluted him: his rank, his influence. His willingness to be patient with me and to guide me, even and especially when I refused to budge in my stubbornness. _He understood_ —unlike too many others.

He saluted me back: such pride in his eyes for me, knowing all that I'd accomplished so far.

* * *

New objective, new drive: heading back to the _Normandy_ didn't feel any different from every other time I'd returned before. Not with so much on my mind, so much threatening to creep up and consume me, all because of the two datapads in my hands.

This creeping, like heat combusting in and out of my mind, and tearing, so slowly.

Joker was there in his seat at the helm. He chatted with the squad, introducing himself to all of the new faces. Ashley wasn't here, as I had grown to expect, and a convenient fucking turn-off for me. Noticing me, Wrex, Garrus, Kaidan, and Tali'Zorah stepped aside so that I could get to our chief helmsman.

Their presence was convenient: I could brief them all here at once. Except Ashley…wherever she was.

"Joker, get us to Therum in the Artemis Tau cluster," I ordered. "There's a Prothean expert, Dr. T'Soni, who we need to extract from one of the mines there. We can't afford to lose her."

"Oh, shit, _Therum_?" worried Joker, preparing the ship for takeoff. "I heard the Alliance chatter about all the geth activity out there. Take a look—it's a huge mess, Commander!"

He brought up the live feed on his screen right above the _Normandy's_ controls:

Scores of geth dreadnoughts and fighter ships had surrounded Therum, intimidating in their slick, round silvers and glinting sheens. They took up so much room, we could barely see the planet's surface. In the distance, Alliance ships orbited around the chaos from far enough away, recording the activity while trying to get a better understanding of the situation.

Tali'Zorah worried out loud, "I've never seen so many geth ships in one place before… Not since the vids we would watch of our ancestors losing the homeworld during the Morning War. Isn't Therum just a mining planet?"

"That Prothean expert is there," noted Garrus. "Didn't Udina mention that Matriarch Benezia's daughter is on some research expedition in the mines? Dr. Liara T'Soni, he said."

"That he did," remembered Kaidan. "I get that she's Benezia's daughter. And the matriarch's working with Saren now. Do they need her knowledge of the Protheans _that_ badly? They're practically holding the planet hostage while they look for her!"

Garrus hummed, deep in thought. "Something tells me they need Dr. T'Soni for more than her scientific knowledge. This looks big. _Really big_."

"No kidding," agreed Tali.

"Yeah, this is some shit," said Wrex, not liking our prospects so far. "Some _real_ shit. How the hell are we supposed to get in there to find this doctor?"

"The _Normandy_ has top-of-the-line stealth systems," bragged Joker. "We can mask our heat emissions to basically make it look like we're not there at all. No one will pick us up on their scanners. Well—unless someone looks out a window or something. Thing is, we can't keep it up for too long, or else we'll get fried to death. Just comes with the territory!" The ship's comm flashed next to Joker's screen. "Commander, incoming message from Admiral Hackett!"

"Patch him through, Joker," I allowed.

Static crumpled and cracked the admiral's voice, yet his urgency made it through nonetheless: "Commander…! This is—Hackett… Alliance fleet—rrounding the mining planet Ther—… Heard you're the—captain of… _Normandy_. Congratulations on—Spectre stat…has to wait. Earth's mining resources disrupted—…geth activity, civilians in trouble. We need you—…ASAP!"

Looking to Joker, I asked him, "Can you clean this up?"

"Negative, Commander," he replied, trying and failing anyway. "Looks like the geth are disrupting comms out in that entire system."

"Admiral, this is Shepard," I responded. "I hear you, but there's a serious amount of static. Just know that we're on our way to Therum right now. We need to extract a priority target from the mines."

"Of course, Commander—… If you can— _Normandy_ in and disable…jammers. Our forces…handle the geth ships—once we're able—to communicate again. Any ships we send…surface—getting—decimated. We're sitting ducks…—til that happens."

"We'll find a way onto the planet and disrupt those jammers, and then your forces will deal with the geth. Got it."

"…in your debt, Shepard. Hackett out—"

"Joker, you know what to do," I told him.

"Heading out now, Commander! ETA to Therum is two hours. I'll do my best to get us there faster."

Two whole hours, sitting with this _feeling_ …

"Understood," I accepted. "Any idea where Chief Williams went? We need to brief her on the mission."

Pushing herself through the crowd of our squad, Ashley announced her presence:

"I'm here, Commander. I was just over in the command center talking with Navigator Pressly earlier. I heard everything so far."

"Good—let's move this down to the comm room. It's getting crowded here."

"Agreed," grumbled Wrex, shifting his large body around to fit in this space.

Gesturing for my squad to go first, I followed behind, with Ashley leading everyone to the comm room.

The rest of the ship's human crew observed our new alien team members with barely-masked suspicion, Navigator Pressly included. They had shown Nihlus, that turian Spectre who joined us on Eden Prime, the same hostility—only they were more obvious about it back then.

This time, the crew knew that they would have to deal with _me_ if they stepped out of line.

So they stayed quiet and only afforded a few thin-eyed glances at my squad, keeping their heads down and focusing on their work.

Standing in the center of the comm room, I looked to my team sitting down around me:

Ashley, Kaidan, Tali'Zorah, Garrus and Wrex seemed like they had put the drama from the Citadel behind them.

Staring up at me with their resolve, they were ready to move forward.

"In a normal situation," I began, "Now would be the time where I give you your work assignments for the ship. This isn't a normal situation—far from it. We need to be prepared for what's waiting for us down on Therum. Saren's sent his geth fleets to get Dr. Liara T'Soni before we arrive."

I saw the concern growing in their faces:

We knew that Dr. T'Soni was a capable biotic. She was bound to come under heavy attack from Saren's geth. Would she be able to hold out and survive?

"Once we land, we're splitting up. I'll head into the mines and find the doctor on my own. If she's taking fire, I'll focus on getting her to a safe location, and then we'll sneak back outside. Meanwhile, I'm sending all of you to deal with those communications jammers. Tali, can we count on you to get those offline? The rest of the squad will cover you as needed."

"Yes, Shepard, I'll get it done," promised Tali.

"We'll cover her, absolutely," affirmed Ashley, as a pleasant surprise. I did my best not to show it.

"Roger that," accepted Garrus. "Those geth won't know what hit them."

Wrex was prepared. "We'll make some hell out there, Shepard."

"Kaidan, I want you in charge of the whole ground team," I assigned. "More than likely, they have those jammers somewhere near our target's location. Take the Mako, fight your way through the geth, and keep Tali'Zorah clear from fire as she takes care of the jammers. Radio me once you're finished and get back to the Mako. We'll coordinate an exit plan with Joker."

Lieutenant Alenko saluted me. "Aye, aye, Ma'am!"

"This will be our first official mission together as a bigger team. I expect you to use your heads and fight smart. I won't be able to speak freely while I'm in the mines, in case I give away my location to the enemy. You'll need to rely on yourselves and on Joker if need be. But, until we get there, you have some free time first. Ashley, Kaidan—if you wouldn't mind showing our new teammates around the ship…"

"Will do, Commander," said Ashley, getting everyone to follow her.

And I had some free time of my own, now that I was alone again.

If I looked at Dr. T'Soni's picture for any real amount of time, I knew I would lose my focus.

Instead, I settled on reading Captain Anderson's digital letter to me on this datapad:

_Shepard,_

_You aren't one for emotions and sentimentality. I only want you to know how positive I am that you'll become a Spectre once this is all over. There's no doubt in my mind that you'll succeed where I wasn't able to years before. The first human Spectre. You'll become a symbol, an icon, and an inspiration for everyone across the galaxy._

_With your new status comes new responsibilities. It's no secret that you're not much of a people-person. Do you remember the report you received when you first went from an enlisted soldier to a commissioned officer, not long after you earned your college degree? The higher-ups in the Alliance worried that you might not have the patience to engage with your squad on a personal level, especially during long-term deployments where that kind of thing really makes or breaks team morale._

_There's no telling how long it will take you and your team to bring Saren down. This could take weeks, months. Maybe even years._

_Now more than ever, your patience and your people skills will be put to the test._

_As a friendly recommendation, Commander: be kind to your squad._

_I'm not saying you need to sing Kumbaya with everyone in the mess hall. I only ask that you take your team's feelings and concerns into consideration when getting to know them. You're going to have a lot of downtime while traveling back and forth aboard the Normandy. During those hours, I'd like you to really listen to what your team members have on their minds, and for you to help them when they need you the most._

_We both know you're a lone wolf. It's why you performed so well during your N7 training. When things got ugly for you back on Earth, it's what helped you survive on your own. But you have to see by now that those old habits won't get you anywhere in your new position._

_You're Captain of the Normandy. You're a Spectre. The crew are all looking to you for guidance._

_As of right now, yes, your team respects the hell out of you. They live for the legend of Commander Shepard. Over time, though, that fire may begin to dim. If they feel like you don't give a damn about them, then what? You may have lost valuable allies. That's something you need to avoid at all costs._

_It's always about gains and liabilities with you. Useful, but it makes you a bit predictable. See what you can do about fixing that._

_Forever proud of you,_

_Anderson_


	2. Deep Down

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Let's pretend that infiltrator Shepard has access to the tactical cloak (invisibility) in Mass Effect 1.

" _Deep Down" from Final Fantasy XIV: Shadowbringers_

 **II.** Deep Down

_(Liara T'Soni)_

Underground, hidden within the sanctuary of Therum's mines, I delighted over my solitude here.

My alma mater, the University of Serrice, had sponsored this expedition, much to my surprise, giving me free reign to search and dig however I pleased.

Absolute silence.

Only the company of dirt and rocks, caved and compact to protect me from the outside world.

Not a soul around for miles.

This isolation had buried all else far away, deep into the depths where I could no longer reach them. Focusing on the task at-hand was far more preferable to anything else I could have imagined. Anything that was in my reach, at least. All else seemed too far away—too high up within the atmosphere of my inexperience—to ever truly be something I could grasp.

Much like the writings I had recently found:

I understood the language, the text here, of these thousands-year old pages that had once belonged to the Protheans. I hadn't expected to find anything here: nearly all of the mines on Therum had been picked over by industry workers from other planets, other colonies.

They must have left this here, not having seen the value in it…

Using my omni-tool to scan photographs of the texts for my records, I set about writing my digital notes on the piece. I would need to double-check in order to verify the exact era where this was from. For now, I at least wanted to jot down my first impressions from what I read here.

"Something to do with dominance," I mumbled out loud, needing to hear myself think. "Control. Imperial conquest? No, this appears to have very little to do with galactic affairs… Could this be…more interpersonal? _Trust. Subspace. Resisting outside influences. One mind, one master."_ Such a sudden rush of heat to my face. "Using sex, touch, or merely spoken word to achieve this _subspace_ , reaching deep into the recesses of another person's mind… A way to maintain control and keep out any intruders… What could all of this mean, exactly?"

Compared to the online archives of all else that had been discovered here, these writings felt out of place. Why was this here? Why now?

And why did these words stir something so deep in me—so carnal, so primal?

I felt as if I understood this process on some level, even though I had no real idea what any of this meant. All I had were these broken, incomplete mental images in my head… Someone far wiser than I would know what this _subspace_ was, and how it linked to trust, to control. I had to research this.

Each time I typed the letters into my extranet browser to search the meaning, I quickly deleted them.

Holding my face in my hands, I realized that this blush still hadn't gone away, making me sweat.

"Why must I be such a child about these things…? Yet this all feels so— _familiar_ , somehow."

_Deep down, somewhere inside of me, I knew…_

_An unseen abyss that I had scrambled to push away and forget about, as if it had never existed at all._

Rumbling and rocking of a sudden caused drips of dirt and soil to spill from above. Only minor at first, it didn't catch my attention right away, as caught up as I was in these confusing emotions. Not until the shaking grew more intense did I try to pull myself out of this daydream, my mind endlessly surrounded by once-forgotten fantasies of finding unconditional trust with another.

This new topic of _subspace_ certainly added another layer to my wondering, wanting, so wanton at times.

The booming, echoing voice of a krogan finally snapped me out of my trance— _"Fuck, it's been hours! I'm sick of looking around these damned tunnels… That asari should be somewhere close by now. Find her and bring her back alive, or else I don't get paid!"_

He sounded rather close. Right above me, in fact.

And he was not alone.

I heard several clicks and stuttering sounds, as if the krogan had numerous geth with him.

Looking around, I spotted a small tunnel in the wall, one that I could have climbed inside to hide.

But for how long?

I scrambled to collect my things and store them away in my blue and white backpack: my archaeology tools, my map of these mines, my rations for meals, my canteen of berry juice to replenish my energy in case I needed to overuse my biotics in battle, and now, these writings I had discovered and wished to keep for myself.

I tossed everything near the tunnel, realizing much to my dismay that I wouldn't have been able to fit my backpack through the opening. Not with everything I had currently inside.

I could either abandon some of my items or ignore all of them.

Those writings told such a story that I wished to explore more. Having the photographs in my omni-tool couldn't compare to holding the real thing in my hands. This was such a find!

Just as I was about to collect the texts, that krogan and his geth appeared on the upper ramp in my view.

Cracks of his knuckles seemed to amplify the quavering from the mines; he leered at me with a hunger, with discovery, grinning over _his_ great find. At his side and behind him, dozens of geth waited at the ready, the lighted lens of their view scoping down on me, like endless lighthouses at sea.

"There you are!" shouted the krogan, causing more rubble to rain from above. "Now come with me, little asari. Saren's been looking for you. He expects you to come quietly—"

Firing off my warp at him, I shot my pistol at the merc, wearing down his barrier and armor with ease. Those geth had no shields whatsoever. I threw a singularity field at the krogan in the center, catching most of the geth in the tumble of the blue vortex.

Another warp shot—the echoing smack of the biotic explosion tore apart the metal of the geth's platforms, shrapnel flying.

That krogan had merely fallen back over his hump, injured, but still alive.

"Motherfucker!" he cursed, gesturing to more geth on the ramp out of my view. "What the hell are you waiting for?! Go get her, now!"

Scores of geth ran out to the fore, aiming their rifles at me.

The pulses from their shots nearly reached me until I caught myself at the last possible second. Within that endless second, I drew a halo of power around my head, kneeling to hold this strength.

I drew a biotic field around me, blocking their shots.

The force from their firing bore down on me nonetheless.

With more geth appearing, and more, some of them hopping down from the ramp to shoot closer to me, I knew I had to move.

Not too far from that tunnel opening was a gathering of thick boulders and rocks. I struggled to walk over there for cover: the geth's shooting and the constant quaking from the mines nearly threw my focus and my balance.

Maintaining my field proved to be too much, yet I forced myself to hold on.

They wanted me alive.

They wouldn't kill me…or would they?

Whatever Saren wanted me for, I had no desire to allow myself to be caught by him.

Taking cover behind the boulders, I dropped my field to catch my breath. Constant noise from the geth's pulse rifles and the growing explosions coming from far above, outside the mines, made it too difficult for me to think myself out of this chaos.

Pressing my back harder and harsher against these rocks, I wished I could have blended myself into them, to disappear, to hide.

It was much too late for that now.

The geth at the front were about to get too close to me.

I risked throwing out another singularity field at this choke point.

Though I caught the brunt of the geth units in that fold, the others out of range were free to keep firing.

Their concentrated stream of shots cut through the barriers over my dominant arm, making me cry out in pain. I could but keep focusing on my singularity field; keep it up, maintain the thought of its power, to keep the geth from nearing me.

Holding my arm close with my uninjured one, I again looked to the tunnel.

I had no time to fit myself through and scurry away.

Even with my singularity field up, I risked being shot at as I crawled my way through that unknown, now, without my map to guide me.

I should have uploaded the schematics to my omni-tool—but now was not the time to chastise myself.

Spotting more formations of rocks and boulders some distance behind me, I chanced running over there. Catching another, and another, I willed myself to keep fleeing, trying to keep my same singularity field up for as long as I could. The strain tore at my mind and my whole body. Yet I pushed onward, knowing that that single field was all that kept the geth from reaching me, from taking me away.

I kept running, running, running as far and as fast as I could—until the geth shot at my ankle; until I nearly fell face-first to the rocky ground, barely catching myself against another set of boulders.

Another tunnel entrance right beside me.

I winced in pain, knowing I couldn't crawl through, not with my arm and ankle throbbing this much.

My singularity field was about to expire.

I could but pray that I would make it out of here somehow, someway.

My eyes shot open at the sounds of a sniper shot shooting through all the noise.

The artificial whimpering sounds of a geth going dark: these repeated themselves again and again for as long as the sniper continued firing.

One after another, I heard the sounds of metal cracking and breaking apart from the single, precise shots darting through the geth's heads, ending the barrage from those pulsing rifles, one at a time.

Every single shot connected.

Every single calculation from that sniper rifle found a geth's head, incapacitating them.

Those metallic platforms crumpled to the ground, one by one, dozens upon dozens, until it all stopped.

Up above, I spotted the glimmer of someone's tactical cloak glittering in the light of a nearby lamp. When their cloak ended, the transition sounded as a digital curtain. That end had pulled back the eye-catching colors of someone's clothes, hair, and skin. All I could do was stare up at the person there:

A tall and limber human woman, she wore an all-black stealth suit, with her golden-brown hair pulled back into a long, military-tight tail behind her back. The gold-brown of her sharp eyes measured down on me. She found me here with a scowling focus and concentration that I could never hope to match.

She carried a pistol at her hip, yet the massive Spectre-grade sniper rifle in her hands was clearly her weapon of choice. A _human_ Spectre?

That gold, that brown seemed to extend to her skin soaking in the mechanical lighting all around her.

From this view of her, I couldn't help thinking that this stranger looked just like the sun.

The infiltrator took stock of her kills in the distance. Accepting that there were no reinforcements on the way, she folded her sniper rifle, and holstered the weapon over her back.

Hurdling over the metal of the handrail in front of her, she jumped down to this level with me. What should have been quite the complicated fall for anyone else seemed second-nature to her: she reached this ground of rock and dirt with legs bent and head lowered in ease and professionalism.

Springing back up to her full height in seconds, she soon spotted my injuries.

She walked over to me with a—somehow—calming sense of urgency about her.

"Dr. Liara T'Soni?" prefaced the soldier, direct and authoritative.

"Um, yes," I confirmed. "Yes, that would be me… Who are you?"

"I'm Commander Shepard with the Alliance. I'm here to get you out of this place. The geth above-ground are tearing up the planet trying to find you. I'm leading a team to stop the person behind these attacks, and I need you to join me."

The white and red N7 emblem over her chest—she was indeed with the Alliance military.

Not quite believing the timing of all this, I asked her, "You are here to recruit me for your mission?"

"Yes," replied Shepard. "I have a ship and a full team. We'll need your knowledge of the Protheans to help us in this fight. First, we have to find a way out and back to the _Normandy_."

"I certainly wouldn't mind lending my help— _if_ we can get out of here… These mines go on for miles, Commander. How did you manage to find me at all?"

The commander used her head to gesture toward the piles of dead geth. "I followed the noise. Some krogan was stomping around looking for you, too. Did you take him out?"

"I only weakened him… He's probably gone to call more geth reinforcements."

Then we heard his shouting again: _"Get that damned asari! Now! Before she runs off!"_

"We have to get moving, Doctor," announced Shepard, bending down to meet me. "How bad are your injuries? Can you walk, or move at all? It'll be safer for us to crawl through the smaller tunnels."

Trying to stand sent a sharp pang of pain to my entire leg. "…I am not bleeding that badly, though I do not think I'll be able to really walk. Crawling is likely out of the question." Commander Shepard accepted my assessment, not at all looking annoyed or inconvenienced like I thought she would have. Already, I felt myself relying on her so. "Forgive me, Commander. I'm…not quite at my best right now. Do you have any alternatives in mind—?"

More geth appeared in droves from the same direction as earlier, opening fire once again.

Shepard shielded me with her body. On instinct, I wrapped my arms around her neck, soon finding that I couldn't see my own limbs anymore. The commander had activated her tactical cloak, and somehow, the invisibility found me, too, here in her hold.

Her tech should have affected her and her alone, as I certainly didn't have any tactical cloak implants.

"What the—?!" Commander Shepard seemed just as confused as I was. "You know what, never mind. Might as well take advantage of this!"

For a moment, the geth stopped firing, no longer able to see us here. And in that precious moment, Shepard picked me up in her arms, gentle to mind my hurting, and carried me away into the nearest hallway. Metallic walkways sounded not at all through Shepard's trained, silent footsteps, even through her hurry and urgency, carrying me along with such ease.

As I held the commander around her shoulders, listening to her barely-concealed breaths as she took me through these winding halls, I accepted my own exhaustion.

At some point, I could hardly keep my eyes open, feeling thoroughly drained from having kept up my biotics overlong, and under such duress.

When the orange glow from her omni-tool lit through my eyelids, I realized that I'd drifted off.

I groaned, frustrated with myself.

Not only had I fallen asleep, but this complete stranger had had the foresight to upload the mines' schematics to her omni-tool, unlike me. The commander studied the remaining pathways, taking stock of our location: we weren't terribly far away from the main exit.

"You still with me, Doctor?" asked Shepard, uncloaked now, as I was. "We're almost out of this place."

"Yes… Yes, Commander, I'm here. I'm sorry for being such a burden."

"You aren't losing that much blood," she informed me. "We can patch you up easily once we get back to the ship. Have you been losing sleep lately? I can't have you falling asleep again once we're outside. It's a madhouse with the geth attacking civilians and raiding their operations."

I should have told her earlier: "No, it's just my biotics. I overexerted my powers earlier, trying to defend myself from the geth. I would normally have something to drink to take care of that. I wasn't able to get my backpack in time. It is too late to go back for it now."

"Oh… Hang on, then."

With unexpected care, Commander Shepard set me down in a nearby corner. Kneeling with me once more, she reached behind her waist, searching through her supplies she had strapped to the back of her stealth suit. Among those supplies, she procured a silver bottle, and proceeded to unscrew the top.

"Here," she offered. "One of my biotic teammates mentioned you might need this. It's juice."

Accepting the canteen with my uninjured hand, I smiled at her with my full gratitude.

"Thank you, Commander. I very much appreciate you doing this for me."

Shepard averted her eyes in a strained sort of reticence. She then lowered her head, staying right where she was; listening as I took my time drinking the juice, so as to not seem rude. Watching her here, I couldn't help noticing the pleasing length of her face, and of how her complexion was both a sun-kissed yellow-brown, and the same raspberry red from this sugary drink in my mouth, replenishing my energy.

Such an interesting blend of browns, golds and crimsons in her skin, and of the golds beaming as blonde highlights through her tightened, slickened, bone-straight brown hair. From the slight ocean's wave form of her edges, the crown of her widow's peak had wetted with beads of sweat slicking down the attractive curve of her brow and the lovely raise of her cheek bones, all from her complaint-free exertions of carrying me all throughout these mines.

She certainly didn't _look_ as if she had the sheer muscle and brawn to do what she had thus far.

Nevertheless, Commander Shepard's efforts spoke to her mental fortitude making up for what she may have lacked in raw physical strength.

Needing to distract herself, Shepard reached her right hand to her ear, accessing her radio. "Shepard to ground team, Shepard to ground team. Lieutenant Alenko, do you copy?"

Bursts of static shot through the silence around us, and a man's coarse voice sounded over persistent sounds of gunfire in the background: _"Yes, Commander—… Tali's getting… —jammers should be offline soon! Will move out—Mako—ready… able to evacuate and get you and Dr. T'Soni— Just a bit more!"_

"Understood. Let Admiral Hackett know directly once the job is done. Coordinate with Joker afterward for our exit plan."

" _Aye, aye, Ma'am!"_

For a short while as she spoke through her radio, that redness about Shepard's face had disappeared.

Now that all had fallen quiet once more, that crimson returned.

"Was that your team?" I tried. "I heard something about jammers. Is that the geth's doing?"

"Yes," she breathed. "The geth have communications jammers outside. I sent the rest of my squad to disable them while I came here to get you. Once they're finished, they'll meet us with a vehicle, and then we'll drive to a safe location for extraction. The Alliance will take care of the rest."

"Do you think it is feasible for your squad to meet us so close to the mines, if not right outside?"

Shepard already knew: "We'll need to get a reasonable distance away from this place. The geth will be expecting to find you fleeing the exit. I thought we would have to fight our way through. Since my cloak seems to work on you for some reason, we can sneak past them instead." She forwarded me the information to access her team's radio frequency. "In case something happens, you have access to our secure channel. I'll do my best to get us out unseen."

"I believe in you, Commander," I expressed, closing the canteen and handing it back to her. "Thank you again for all your help. I have my energy back now, although I still can't walk… I don't know what I would have done without you."

"Yeah… Don't worry about it."

The way she said that: I couldn't help noticing the dimmed timber of her voice, so deep and smooth.

I couldn't help noticing even the tremble in her neck, how she worked to remain still.

I couldn't help noticing… _everything_ about her, really.

Yet with my noticing, the commander couldn't stand to maintain eye contact with me for very long.

As Shepard secured her bottle with the rest of her supplies, another wave shook the mines, this time stronger than ever before.

Needing to hurry, the commander picked me back up and continued on to the exit, faster this time.

Faster and faster, she ran, steadily bursting into a sprint. Even as the seismic waves pulling and crashing at the mines wavered her view, Shepard refused to relent. She pushed herself beyond her own brink, determined to get us to safety.

Using my free arm, I drew a biotic field around us, over our heads. Though the mines were about to fall apart, I could keep us safe like this. Replenished and refreshed as I was now, I had no worries about maintaining this field for as long as I needed to.

As much as I could with my punctured arm, I gripped Shepard's effort, around her shoulders, down to her back, keeping this umbrella of a field over our heads; keeping the gravel from pouring down on us.

Closer to the light at the end of the tunnel, this uphill climb at such a steep angle: Shepard's breaths heaved out against me, feral and unwavering in her efforts.

She worked _so_ _hard_ for me.

Reaching the hot, arid air right outside the mines, Shepard activated her cloak at just the right time. I dispelled my barrier; she had no time to catch her breath, taking the jump down from the top of this ramp, down to the dirt ground below, escaping the geth waiting for us at the bottom of the ramp. Such an army of those machines, waiting there for us, while other units terrorized the processing plants and refineries in the near distance, wreaking havoc to the miners there.

With so much noise distracting the enemy, Shepard kept running: cloaked, and sprinting, invisible to the rest of the planet as she continued carrying me in her arms.

She refused to stop—not until we had nearly reached a safe area free from those attacks.

Still, I looked on at those innocents dying as they tried to defend themselves, wishing I could help.

Forcing herself to keep walking a while longer, Shepard had read my mind: "We can't do anything for them, Doctor. You're the most important thing right now—"

She stopped, her exhaustion catching up to her at long last.

Why couldn't I stop smiling at that?

Commander Shepard had us sit together behind a mountain pass, well away from everything else going on. We heard her team calling via radio, letting Shepard know that they had succeeded in their mission in disabling the jammers. Since their voices were clear this time, free of static, that was all the additional confirmation we needed.

Winded as she was, Shepard couldn't have possibly responded with anything coherent.

That same Lieutenant Alenko from earlier started to panic when the commander wouldn't respond: _"Come in, Shepard. Come in! Commander, are you there?! We're in the Mako now. What's your location?! We need your coordinates ASAP for pickup! Joker's waiting on us for extraction. The Alliance is about to touch down for an all-out assault. We shouldn't stay here any longer than we have to!"_

Touching Shepard's shoulder in pleading, I asked her, "Should I respond to the lieutenant for you?"

She nodded her head, still trying to keep her cool; still trying not to show me how much pain she was in.

I tuned into the frequency Shepard had supplied me with, wishing I had thought this through a bit more first: "Um, hello? This is Liara T'Soni. I'm with the commander now, but she is quite exhausted from our escape." Just barely able, Shepard interacted with her omni-tool, uploading our coordinates to her team. "Commander Shepard is forwarding you our coordinates as we speak."

Lieutenant Alenko coughed. _"Uhm, Dr. T'Soni? Is that really you?"_

"Yes, Lieutenant, this is me. The commander allowed me on this frequency. It is a pleasure to meet you."

" _Oh… Oh, haha, th-that's great! Err, hullo, Doctor! It's, err, it's a pleasure to meet you, too! My name's Kaidan Alenko. L-Lieutenant Alenko… I've, uh, just received the coordinates! We're on our way!"_

I heard an unfamiliar woman's voice on the other end—abrasive, impatient: _"Seriously, Alenko?! Ugh, you're so freaking predictable, it makes me sick!"_

Shepard seemed to agree, as she rolled her eyes in disgust for some reason.

Someone's filtered voice—a quarian's, I believed—sounded out a girlish laugh. _"Oh, Kaidan, don't worry. I don't think you're predictable. More like adorable! Guys like you are so sweet, you know that?"_ She then addressed me: _"Hey there, Dr. T'Soni. My name's Tali'Zorah. Nice to meet you!"_

A smooth-sounding turian then added: _"Hey, now, we can't all be sweet and angelic like the lieutenant here._ Some _of us have more decency around the fairer sex. Not necessarily counting_ me _, of course… If I were Kaidan, I would have probably choked up, too."_ He cleared his throat. _"Dr. T'Soni? The name's Garrus. Garrus Vakarian. Sharpshooter and former C-Sec officer at your service."_

" _And I'm Wrex!"_ called an older, likely battle-scarred krogan. _"Don't you worry about these jokers, Doctor. The real Joker you have to worry about is our ship's pilot. He's not gonna let you live this down. I hope you're prepared for it."_

" _Yeah, yeah,"_ said the abrasive woman from earlier—another human? _"Everyone make the new girl feel uncomfortable because of something she can't control… I'm Ashley, by the way. Gunnery Chief Ashley Williams. And I'm sure Joker will get a kick out of this for_ at least _a couple of weeks…"_

"Um, what do you mean?" I puzzled. "Have I said something wrong?"

Tali giggled again. _"No, no, Dr. T'Soni, not at all,"_ she promised. _"It's nothing you_ _actually_ said _…"_

"Well, I am unfortunately not able to follow what the problem is…"

Garrus chuckled this time. _"_ And _you're one of those innocent ones? Oh, this is perfect."_

Kaidan fired back: _"Garrus, you're not helping!"_

I felt myself getting a little offended now. "I'm sorry?"

Wrex burst out laughing, _not helping_ at all!

Ashley sighed. _"Doctor, you're in the clear here,"_ she reinforced. _"It's just… Look, you have a really hot voice, and now Alenko here can't drive this Mako to save his life—… Shit, we're gonna flip over!"_

" _Ash, you're out of line!"_ scolded Kaidan. _"We're all professionals here, all right?! There's no need to use that kind of language with our new team member! And we're not flipping over!_ No one _is flipping over! I've got everything under control…"_

" _Whoa there, tiger, settle down! I was only explaining to Dr. T'Soni what the problem is."_

" _There's no problem!"_

" _Uh-huh…"_

Commander Shepard couldn't take it anymore—"Alenko, do you have an ETA for when you'll be here?"

" _Uh—um! Ma'am, about, ten more minutes, ma'am—Commander? Oh, God, err…"_

Tali sounded as if she'd fallen over from laughing. _"Keelah, this is priceless! I can't. I just—can't…!"_

Wrex's hearty laughter overtook the background chatter from Ashley, Garrus, Tali and Kaidan combined.

Shepard hung up on them.

" _That's not good,"_ spotted Garrus.

Tali couldn't breathe. _"Oh, no, Shepard's angry at us…! She left…without saying anything!"_

" _Fuck,"_ worried Ashley. _"Now we're gonna hear it once we pick her and T'Soni up… Welp, better brace your asses for impact, folks! She'll tear us a new one over this, I'm telling you."_

Garrus sounded suspicious, _"So tell us why you seem to_ want _that from the commander, hm? Is there something you're not telling us, Chief? C'mon, we're all in the slammer here together until Shepard rips us that new one you want so badly. Why don't you share your real feelings with the class?"_

Ashley could only sputter incoherently in response.

Wrex and Tali were about to explode from laughing so hard.

"Well, then, we will see you in ten minutes," I attempted, feeling the need to continue speaking in Commander Shepard's stead. "Thank you for doing this, everyone."

Kaidan coughed again. _"Yes, thanks for joining us, Dr. T'Soni… See you and the commander soon."_

I finally took my turn to hang up.

Judging my how exasperated Shepard was, having buried her face in her hand, I gathered that she'd heard everything else from my end regardless.

I had to ask: "Commander, are your squad normally like this? They seem to get along very well…"

"I had no idea," she admitted, grumbling. "All of the non-humans you heard, they joined more recently. Before that, it was only Chief Williams and Lieutenant Alenko. Kaidan was with me when we found Ashley. He and I recruited her not long before everyone else. Guess they all _really_ hit it off during their first operation together with those jammers…"

"Yes, they sound like quite the lively bunch."

"A bit _too_ lively if you ask me."

I wondered, "Do you plan on disciplining them once they arrive?"

Commander Shepard glanced over at me, finding me trustworthy. "Honestly, I don't," she shared. "They can have a good time like this as long as we're not in any danger. I don't know… After getting the job done, they've earned some time to mess around and de-stress."

"I suppose you do not truly mind, given that they won't take advantage of you as time goes on."

"Yeah, that sounds about right."

I wanted to also ask if this was Shepard's way of showing that she cared about her team.

But, given that we had barely met that same day, I didn't wish to push my luck any further.

And, given that Shepard was clearly perturbed with her squad, I wanted to give her some peace and quiet—at least until they all arrived and disturbed things once more. Once I saw the commander settling her orange-opaque headphones into her ears, I figured I had made the right decision.

"You mind if I listen to music?" she asked. "If I don't chill out, I'm bound to blow a fuse or two. These are definitely staying in once the Mako gets here. I refuse to listen to their fucking chit-chat."

I smiled at her. "Please, Commander, go ahead. Don't mind me. I am sure the others will understand as well. If I hear any danger approaching, I will let you know."

Shepard brought up her music player through her omni-tool, found a playlist, and then settled the back of her head over the mountain behind us, finding her peace. She had the volume quite loud—loud enough that I could hear her music with some clarity. _Some_ clarity, given the number of Alliance fighter ships zipping through the skies. The blue and silver of the crafts passing by caused the commander's headphones to glimmer a faint orange in the light shift.

I forced myself to look away, if only to avoid staring at her.

During these quiet minutes, I did my best to discern her music, trying to pick out the genres she enjoyed. Then again, human culture and customs were still foreign to me, let alone their music. From what I'd heard, the clubs on the Citadel had mostly integrated human culture into their playlists, as the rest of galactic space had seemed to take a liking to their electronic and trance genres in particular.

Beyond that, I was mostly ignorant, though I certainly wished to change this, now that I had a reason…

Over the sophisticated bass simmering through Shepard's headphones, I heard the sounds of multiple heavy wheels crushing over the terrain—the off-white _M-35 Mako_ vehicle specked with dust and dirt approached us, right on time per Lieutenant Alenko's accurate estimation.

With one last groan, Commander Shepard accepted her fate, and prepared herself for the rest.

She picked me up once more, walking over to where one of her team members had opened the side doors. Ample enough room to step inside with me, Shepard said nothing as these smiling faces found us, curious to meet me in person after our conversation over the radio.

"Hello, Dr. T'Soni!" greeted Tali, I assumed, since she wore a quarian's suit. "Glad you could make it."

"I'll say," agreed Garrus, giving me an easy grin. "Looks like Shepard's more than pissed, though. Listening to music, ignoring us entirely? Oh, that hurts…"

"Crap, that's even worse!" fretted Ashley. "Um, hey, Dr. T'Soni… Nice to put a face to the voice."

Wrex patted the open seat next to him, at the very back. "Not my face, I bet," he joked. "This is the only free seat, so Shepard's gonna have to sit here with you."

"It's good to meet you all in person," I obliged.

Kaidan's voice sounded from the driver's seat: "Got enough room back there?"

"Yep!" called Ashley. "We're all set. Let's head to the extraction point! Joker's waiting for us."

Shepard took her time sitting me down in my seat closest to a wall. She then sat down in between Wrex and myself, ignoring everyone, still. For a while, she remained hunched over, resting her chin over her folded hands, her music continuing to blast. With the vehicle moving around so much, she eventually settled on sitting back in her seat to scowl up at the ceiling—even though this meant that our shoulders, our sides remained quite close together, given how much room Wrex took up on his end of the seat.

Ashley and Tali sat together in the seat adjacent to us, opposite the door, while Garrus remained standing, holding on to the overhead railing.

All of them looked at me with an unusual interest—one I couldn't really decipher on my own.

Garrus was the first to bring up the obvious, "So, Dr. T'Soni, you're looking a little banged up there. You and the commander get out of those mines all right?"

"My injuries are from before she arrived," I informed everyone. "I was overconfident in attempting to escape from the geth that had come to find me. I was lucky that Commander Shepard arrived when she did. I may have been captured otherwise."

Tali asked, "Do you have any idea why Saren is after you? He sure sent a lot of geth to pick you up…"

"Unfortunately, I can't imagine why he did all of this. I wouldn't say I am all that valuable to anyone."

"Hey, guys?" called Kaidan. "I think the commander would tell us to save it 'til we get to the debriefing room. She clearly needs some time to herself before we arrive. We shouldn't exclude her."

Ashley hummed her acknowledgment. "Yeah, you're right, LT. We'll talk about something else instead."

They took advantage of Shepard being unable to hear them, speculating openly about her:

Once again, Garrus broke the ice: "…does the commander usually listen to music to cool off? I haven't had the chance to really talk with her one-on-one. Then again, I doubt that's something she would just mention during casual conversation."

Wrex chimed in, "It's news to me. Could you imagine _casual_ conversation with Shepard, though? She's the most intense human I've ever met! Beats some of the hardened warlords I know personally."

"You can say _that_ again," mumbled Tali, sounding a bit resentful.

"You know," pondered Ashley, "I've always wondered what kind of music Skipper listens to. Probably not that mainstream pop stuff… No, _definitely_ not. I can't see her liking the same kind of songs my younger sisters obsess over all the time."

"Let's listen," suggested Wrex. "Should be loud enough, I think. Not that I'll recognize any of it, anyway."

Ashley moved her head a bit with the beat. "Hmm, it's not too fast, not too slow either," she noticed. "I think I hear snapping. Those guys can actually sing… They're harmonizing?"

"Well, I'm clueless," accepted Garrus. "Your human music outside the Citadel is nothing I'm used to."

Tali shrugged. "Same here," she conceded. "Mind filling us in, Chief?"

Kaidan wanted to join in, too—"What else do you hear, Ash?"

"I think it's old school R&B!" discovered Ashley, delighted. "Yeah, it is! Oh wow! That's _so_ romantic!"

"You serious?!" spluttered Kaidan. "Whoa! That's…unexpected!"

"It…it is?" pondered Tali, trying to keep up.

Wrex wished to know, "What's that? Why's it such a big deal?"

Garrus made a request for all of us: "Translation?"

Ashley could barely contain herself, beaming with a pure, unbridled joy over this development.

"Listen up, guys—history lesson!" she rallied. "R&B stands for rhythm and blues. It's like… Um, well, it's music for her kind of people, except it got super popular for everyone else, too. It's hard to explain since it's not my place. Just think of it as this really smooth, sensual genre… That's why it's romantic! And unexpected! It's romantic and unexpected for someone like Shepard to listen to that music, okay?"

Tali didn't have the full picture: "Sure, but what do you mean by _her kind_ of people?"

"Tali, it's not our place to explain," reiterated Kaidan, this time.

"Huh?" said Wrex. "I thought all you humans were the same? Now you're telling us there's different _kinds_ of you? Different groups, or clans or something? Spit it out, why don't you!"

Ashley buried her face in her hands. "Oh, God…"

"Umm, I'm staying out of this one," evaded Kaidan.

"Hey, no fair!" protested Tali. "Are you telling us we have to look it up on our own now?!"

"I…guess?" tried Ashley, wincing. "Sorry."

Tali huffed, "Fine! The second I get back to Engineering, this will be my new research project!"

Garrus looked to me next to Commander Shepard, and then he seemed to get it. Although, he chose not to say anything, resigning himself to stay quiet instead. He also noticed my notice, and gave me a nod.

I smiled with my acknowledgment, grateful for how discreet he chose to be.

* * *

When we finally arrived to the wonder of the _Normandy_ , I had prepared myself to walk on my own, given that Shepard was not only physically exhausted, but now emotionally exhausted from everything. I was well-aware of how she felt, yet I found myself marveling over the ship's make—or, at least, what little I could see of it from here, as this vehicle bay was only a small part of the _Normandy's_ grandeur.

I quickly enjoyed the haze of blues I found surrounding this space.

Commander Shepard again chose to be accommodating, carrying me out of the Mako with her, without her music this time. As she did, that unusual interest from the rest of the squad overtook the looks they gave us—with Ashley in particular seeming to focus on me the most out of everyone. They all followed her to the main elevator, with everyone fitting together with plenty of room as we went up one level.

The rest of the squad shared in quiet, light conversation while continuing to give me the occasional, friendly smile, making me feel welcome aboard the ship without needing to try terribly hard.

Right near what appeared to be the mess hall, the medical bay awaited. Various medical equipment adorned the ceiling and the walls, with the ship's chief medical officer standing to meet us in kindness and warmth.

"Hey, Dr. Chakwas!" said Ashley. "Looks like you've got a new patient!"

"So it would seem!" replied Dr. Chakwas, appearing to recognize me. "Is this our Dr. Liara T'Soni, then?"

"Sure is," noted Kaidan.

Dr. Chakwas gestured to the nearest, empty bed. "Please set her down here, Commander," she requested. "Well, Dr. T'Soni, I'm glad the team managed to pull you out of the fire down on Therum. Sounds like it was quite the mess. Thankfully, we should be able to patch these cuts right up."

At last, Shepard had availed herself of her responsibility to me, setting me down over the requested bed. And yet, even in her relinquishing, I felt the commander stop.

She remained over me at this perfect angle, still holding me around my shoulders. Stopping to stop. Stopping to breathe. Stopping to pause, to hold this moment, while everyone behind us continued to speak among themselves, again—oblivious.

This strength in her hold and in her stopping, I had never felt from anyone before.

Shepard's breathing hardened as she stayed here, her lips so close to my neck.

I stroked her back, heated so by her continued consideration.

"Commander…"

"Are you… Will you be all right now?"

"Yes," I whispered, feeling our exposed privacy beginning to expire. "Thank you for taking care of me."

Licking her lips, Shepard exhaled her last defiance of our remaining time together—like this—before letting me go, to stand up properly.

Dr. Chakwas guided the commander to the nearest bed. "And you, Shepard!" she scolded. "Sit here, won't you? I'll need to run a few tests on you, too. I can't imagine you had an easy time with your task. Do you remember my warnings about staying cloaked for too long? The strain you place on your implants can lead to dangerous side-effects, Commander. We'll want to avoid those at all costs."

Shepard accepted her fate, avoiding eye contact with everyone as she sat on the bed close by. "Yeah, I remember…"

"Hmm, and something tells me you failed to heed my warnings. But, first, Dr. T'Soni…"

While Dr. Chakwas cleaned my wounds and sealed them, the others continued to loiter in the med bay.

The commander seemed to want to tell them off, yet she chose not to.

She continued to say nothing, even after Dr. Chakwas had finished with me and asked for me to return after our debriefing upstairs. The doctor then looked her over: Shepard had apparently heeded Dr. Chakwas' warnings, yet something else seemed to be wrong.

"Look, Dr. Chakwas, I'm fine," insisted Shepard, standing anew. "We really need to get to the comm room now. The Council's expecting a call from me afterward. I don't want to keep them waiting."

Dr. Chakwas was unconvinced. "If you say so, Commander," she allowed, at least looking pleased that I was able to walk on my own now. "Dr. T'Soni, do come by and see me once you're finished. With all this rushing around, I haven't had the chance to introduce myself properly!"

"Of course, Dr. Chakwas," I replied. "I appreciate your assistance. I'll be sure to return soon."

As we left with the group up the nearby stairwell, Ashley looked to be bursting at the seams to tease Shepard over her aversion to medical professionals. Tali kept her giggling to herself, likely thinking the same thing. Wrex and Garrus had fallen into a discussion about the Citadel for some reason, while Kaidan's attention remained fixed on Shepard leading us at the very front.

They each fell silent, however, once we passed the impressive space of the Combat Information Center and the galaxy map. We entered the comm room together, with everyone shifting their focus to the matter at hand, having left their earlier enjoyment and conversations behind.

Taking my seat among the handful of chairs in this circular formation, I made sure to listen carefully as Commander Shepard led the debriefing. She prompted Kaidan to explain how things went with the ground team disabling the geth's communications jammers. He did so, noting the sheer number of hostiles they had to push through, as well as how the geth colossus models had shown up in endless waves, causing constant near-earthquakes as they moved across Therum's surface.

"That explains the mines collapsing in on themselves," mused Shepard. "Or it might've been something else. Either way, I was exhausted because we had to run out of the mines to escape the collapse. Well, _I_ had to."

Ashley couldn't help herself—"Wait a minute, Commander. Dr. T'Soni _was_ injured when you first found her, right? I think that's what she said earlier while you were…uh, ignoring us."

"Please, call me by my first name," I offered. "We don't need to be so formal with one another."

"You got it, Doc!"

Kaidan shook his head in amusement.

Shepard answered the question, "Yes, Chief, she was injured when I first found her."

Tali spoke her awe, "So are you telling us you carried Liara _all the way_ from where you found her in the mines, back outside, and then again to the safe point where we picked you up with the Mako?"

"That's right."

Everyone stared at Commander Shepard in a believing sort of disbelief, not doubting her at all.

Wrex knew: "Well, _no wonder_ Dr. Chakwas was worried about you. That's a lot of strain, Shepard."

Ashley snorted. "You're acting like Liara's fat or something. Look at her—she totally isn't!"

"Um, thank you, Ashley," I said, not quite sure what to think.

"Moving on now," droned Shepard. She had a bit of trouble saying my name out loud: "…Liara, what exactly were you doing in those mines? Were you just on a normal expedition?"

"Yes, I was," I responded. "My alma mater had sponsored the dig for me. I honestly did not expect to find anything valuable, as there had been several miners who had picked over everything already. Although, I did manage to locate something… However, I don't think that is why Saren was after me. What I discovered is not particularly relevant to anyone besides the Protheans, their relationships…"

Garrus leaned forward in his seat in interest, asking, "So, then, what did you find?"

_Subspace. Control. Sex. Resisting outside influences. Domination._

I struggled not to stumble over my words. "Err, well… L-Like I said, it is not terribly relevant to anything else, and I do not believe Saren would think it valuable enough to find before me! I often spend my time unearthing mundane Prothean artifacts, many of which would be of no interest to anyone outside my field of study… This isn't any different."

"Hmm, is that so?" questioned Tali, not believing me at all.

Kaidan seemed bewildered. "I don't get it, Liara. If you're proud of your work, why wouldn't you want to share it with us? We're all friends here, colleagues. We'd want to know about it."

"Did it have anything to do with the Reapers?" asked Ashley. "You know, how they wiped out the Protheans over 50,000 years ago?"

"The—the Reapers?"

Tali explained, "There was this recording I found inside a geth's memory core. It was of Saren and your mother Matriarch Benezia boasting about the Reapers' return. The Reapers are a race of sentient machines that seemed to have destroyed the Protheans all those years ago."

"Ah, yes, of course," I recalled. "The original, untranslated Prothean name for them does mean _Reaper_. Uhm, to answer your question, though—no, I don't believe this had anything to do with that."

Commander Shepard brought the topic back around, "Saren wanted to find you for _some_ reason. Think this has anything to do with your mother?"

"I could not imagine why that would be. My mother and I have not spoken in many years… I strongly disagreed when I heard more recently that she had gone on to work for Saren. That seemed like yet another reason for us to never reconcile. So, no, I doubt this has anything to do with her."

"Well, I'm stumped!" declared Ashley.

"Same here," agreed Kaidan.

Wrex accepted reality: "Guess we'll find out eventually why Saren raided a whole planet to find you."

"We'll shelve this for now," guided Shepard. "Like I mentioned earlier, Liara, I expect your knowledge of the Protheans will help us out on our mission. There was a Prothean beacon on Eden Prime that I came into contact with. Do you know anything about those?"

"The beacons, yes!" I recalled, finding myself standing up with her now. "You interacted with one? Did you see the message they stored away for us? Please, Commander, tell me what you saw!"

"It was…" Commander Shepard rubbed her face, as if concealing her smile. "A lot of it was jumbled up, unclear. I couldn't understand any of it."

Deflating a bit, I knew I should have tempered my excitement. "Oh, yes, of course… The Protheans unfortunately coded their beacons in very specific ways. In order to understand them, you would need to _be_ a Prothean. Or at least, you would need to think like one. That is why we have no living record of what the beacons actually contain… They tend to destroy the minds of anyone who tries to use them."

If Commander Shepard really had used the beacon, then she should not have been able to stand here before me, before all of us, as the image of perfect health.

She had survived somehow.

That same will she had exerted to bring me out from such dangers: the very same had kept her alive, and kept her mind in-tact, when so many others before her had fallen to madness and despair.

"And that's exactly why we need you on this mission," explained Shepard. "You have all of this information that we don't. Information that's suddenly become relevant—about the Protheans and how they existed, along with the Reapers. If we can find some way to decipher that message from the beacon, I think that'll get us one step closer to stopping whatever Saren's up to."

"I will help in any way I can, Commander," I vowed. "Perhaps following Saren's trail will lead us to more solid answers. No doubt he has also interfaced with one of the beacons. He will be looking for a way to understand what he saw as well."

Shepard nodded in her firm agreement. "Wherever Saren is, that's where we need to be," she stated. "Right now, we're following any unusual signs of geth activity that'll lead us to the Conduit he's searching for. The next one is on Feros, a human colony. We'll head there once everyone's settled in. Navigator Pressly should be in touch with you by email soon to ask if there's anything you all need."

She then offered her hand to me, official.

"Welcome aboard, Liara."

I accepted her human custom of shaking hands, uncertain how hard or how gentle I should have been. I ended up defaulting to a normal feel, of feathery lightness, almost. My hand merely existed in hers.

Commander Shepard lightened her own grip to match mine, yet her eyes were no less intense.

Surrounded by so many new people, Shepard, to me, felt as familiar as time itself, even in her own newness, this novelty so pure and untainted. Having her hand in mine, over mine, like this, everything else, everyone else, the _Normandy_ , the blue of the atmosphere around us: all of it faded away as nothing, with this concentration of hers over me so deep, I could have fallen into her, so seismic.


	3. Assets and Liabilities

" _Fallen Alien" by FKA twigs_

 **III.** Assets and Liabilities

_(Liara)_

After our debriefing, Commander Shepard had dismissed us from the comm room while she made her call to the Council. The rest of the squad had been kind enough to give me a tour of the _Normandy_ , where I learned about the ship's history and design, along with where each of my new teammates preferred to work and rest. I also met the ship's pilot, Joker, who had no shortage of comments and jokes to make about Kaidan's curious reactions to my voice over our radio communications.

I wasn't entirely sure I understood all of their ribbing and mockery, yet I knew better than to ask questions and possibly ruin the mood.

As much as I enjoyed having so many new colleagues, I was all too aware of my own shortcomings. Social situations were not my strong suit, although none of the crew seemed to mind how quiet I was. They included me in their conversations whenever it was appropriate, never appearing to expect me to assimilate with their loud-mouthed joking and teasing.

No one expected me to _be_ someone I was not, which was…nice.

Perhaps it wouldn't have been so terrible of me to try making friends with them after all.

Speaking one-on-one with Dr. Chakwas in the med bay was a much calmer affair, and one that I preferred. She had already done her own research on my studies, taking the time to engage with me about my various dissertations on the Protheans during my academia years.

"I must say, Dr. T'Soni, your comparison of Prothean technology to asari circuit logic was particularly engaging. It will be a while yet before your next mission. Why don't you tell me more about your expedition to Therum? It must have been a nasty surprise to discover so many geth in your way!"

We then spent a fair amount of time sharing stories about our personal experiences in school, human versus asari. I learned that humans, at least in academics, were not as monolithic as the stereotypes suggested.

Dr. Chakwas took the time to explain the differences between Western and Eastern academic cultures. I learned that Earth's western hemisphere, where she and Commander Shepard were from, emphasized individuality and personal excellence above all. The more communal nature of the East had been largely lost in translation across galactic space, much to my surprise, as this sounded nothing like the usual humans' portrayal of ruthless bullies who cared only for themselves.

"There's a lot of nuance that gets lost across space," noted Dr. Chakwas. "Even Commander Shepard, a born-and-bred American, doesn't embody _all_ of those stereotypes you usually hear about us humans. I believe, ever since becoming the captain of the ship, she's taken steps to be ruthless for her own personal reasons while still taking a communal approach with the rest of us on the crew."

I had seen the beginnings for myself: Shepard's decision not to scold the squad on the Mako.

I was perhaps too curious for my own good: "Was the commander not always like this?"

Dr. Chakwas chuckled. "She kept to herself back when Captain Anderson was in charge," she explained. "And I mean, she _really_ kept to herself! Usually stayed in her room playing video games in between missions. She only ever left to get something to eat, and then she retreated back to her games. As you and I have sat here speaking, I've gotten emails from other crew members about how Shepard actually said hello to them. Nothing terribly involved, mind you, but she's making a difference…"

"What do you think caused this change in her? Aside from becoming captain, that is."

"Hmm, it may have something to do with her new Spectre status. The first human Spectre! Did you get a chance to watch the vid? It is such a momentous achievement for her."

Given that I had been deep within the mines at the time of her induction, I had missed the live event.

Dr. Chakwas was all too happy to show me the vid on her terminal.

Shepard had indeed become the first human Spectre—a remarkable accomplishment for her species.

The sense of gravity and responsibility were both plain on her person as she accepted the role. So unlike her usual reticence and scowling—here, Shepard had welcomed the spirit of her assignment with honor and dignity, and she seemed to carry this with her in her new willingness to actually speak to the crew.

Ever so proud of Commander Shepard's achievement, Dr. Chakwas dabbed at her eyes with a handkerchief. "Oh, she's come so far in life," she praised. "Shepard had such a rough upbringing. No parents, a life of uncertainty with other abandoned youth. All that she's accomplished, she did it on her own. It wasn't that long ago that many people chastised her for joining the military in the first place."

Hurting for Shepard, I asked, "Why would they do such a thing?"

"Hmm, I believe her critics often said something to the effect of, _she's too pretty to be a marine_. It's safe to say that she proved them wrong _very_ quickly. The extra training she paid for before enlisting: that's what truly helped give her the edge she needed. Most can't afford anything else before boot camp."

"If she had a rough upbringing, as you say, then how did she come across these extra funds…?"

"The commander would _never_ tell you herself…" Dr. Chakwas glanced around, making sure that we were alone, before searching her terminal for more vids. "I suppose it wouldn't hurt to show you."

We then spent the better part of a few hours together, watching Commander Shepard's _alter ego_ as Sol, her first name and her stage name: the glamour, the lights, and the drama of her runway shows as a fashion model. Stunning gowns, skirts and corsets and heels, avant-garde experimentalism, numerous androgynous styles, and even plenty of men's wear—this version of the commander commanded each stage with her signature walk, described by many fashion magazines as: _'Fierce, proud, and fearless.'_

She had apparently been discovered by an agent when she was thirteen years old, and everything had taken off from there—after a great deal of reluctance on her end, however. Whenever she had been asked for details in interviews over the years, the commander would only divulge that she'd had no choice but to take the job. Her existing home and way of life had been threatened, and she'd had no other way out. It was possible she may have eventually died on the streets otherwise.

So she had taken on the work to support herself.

She continued with this same career from time to time when she was not deployed, only for the money.

She stomped without stomping, swayed her hips without swaying, and stared straight ahead with the full sharpness of her stunning eyes. Such a blended anger showed in her face as she moved and strutted and posed in looseness and in effortlessness. As she grew older, she allowed her natural sex appeal to exude and to seduce, her tall height embellishing the fine shape of her hips, her thighs, her chest…

The makeup artists she worked with knew to draw out the sun-like color palette in her skin, leaving her sunlit eyes beaming, like the heated rays of the brightest star at the center of the humans' Sol System.

So far-removed from her military life…

Perhaps just as far-removed as I was—from the med bay, from the _Normandy_ itself—too caught up in my fantasizing. Transfixed as I was, the hypnotism of Shepard's hard-edged, confident alter ego had reached at something in me. It took Dr. Chakwas a few tries to pull me out of my daydreaming.

Once she finally did, the doctor gave me such a specific smile, before offering to let me sleep in the quiet, cozy storage room right behind the med bay.

I spent the whole night awake, purchasing and reading and staring at every single digital magazine I could find with Shepard's alter ego. I felt myself growing impatient whenever I would discover a magazine cover with _Sol_ looking particularly enticing, only to learn that the issue was print-only.

By the time I found my way to a message board full of anonymous strangers lusting after her photographs, I quickly shut off my terminal.

"Goddess, what am I doing…? She is not an object to be _consumed!_ I should stop this…"

Collecting myself, I turned my terminal back on.

I then went off on a related tangent in my next search results.

Although, all I managed to do was type the word _'subspace'_ into the search bar.

I couldn't bring myself to actually hit the search button.

Such dread, such wracking fear gripped me, chilling me to my core. Already, my hours-long _consuming_ of Shepard's glamorous lifestyle had stirred something in me I didn't yet understand. Adding this new, entirely foreign confusion into the equation made me shudder in my seat at my desk.

There was no one I could ask about this.

If I wished to know more about it—for the Protheans, for myself—I needed to do my own research.

What kind of Prothean researcher would I be if I allowed this discovery to go to waste?

Then again, I knew better. This was not about the Protheans. Not really. This was about myself, my reservations, my innocence and my inexperience. I was one hundred and six years old, and yet throughout my entire life, not once had I felt all that compelled to have a relationship with anyone. Aside from a handful of idle wonderings over the years, I had never wished to pursue something with someone, serious or otherwise.

For the longest, I used to think that I wasn't quite all there, sexually…

For the longest, until I discovered these Prothean writings, awakening the truth in me: that perhaps I wasn't suited to _normal_ relationships, and so I had avoided them. I had avoided even platonic friendships, understanding that my so-called friends would inevitably ask me about why I chose to remain single; sensing this inevitability, I could not live with that dread, choosing instead to isolate myself with my work.

For the longest, I had never felt stirred or inspired to indulge in those types of _normal_ activities with another person. I had never wanted to figure out my reluctance, my pressure points, for this would have surely involved a great deal of introspection and discomfort and mental pain and tears.

For the longest, until I met Shepard…

I wasn't sure which was which. Was it Shepard and Shepard alone? Was it this unknown beyond what was normal? Was it both? How could I know? Did Shepard prefer normal relationships? Or did she prefer this deviancy, too?

This was all so taboo in my culture, and so I had avoided it—ignored it—until tonight.

But, I knew so little about Shepard herself: the woman behind that commanding presence of hers.

And I knew myself: that I would be far too shy to engage her in any real conversation to learn more.

If she did choose to come speak with me, I understood that she would not divulge much about herself.

I spent the rest of the night doing as much digging as I could into Shepard's background: her sparse relationships, and records about her undergraduate university degree that she had earned while she was still an enlisted soldier. I also searched for answers to Ashley and Kaidan's reluctance to speak about Shepard's race and origins, since it was not their place. I quickly learned that it was not mine, either, though I needed to understand how and why her skin was such a contentious part of human history.

* * *

The next day, I awoke at such a late hour, having fallen asleep at my desk. My terminal remained open, my extranet browser filled with several tabs about American history: the transatlantic slave trade, the Emancipation Proclamation, Reconstruction, the Civil War, Black Wall Street, Jim Crow laws, the Black Panther Party, the Civil Rights Movement, and several other relevant groups, events, and atrocities…

I had saved numerous films to my streaming playlist, of the mind to watch them later, as they would have no doubt provided me with more insight on what I had learned.

Even then, I struggled to find anything concrete on Commander Shepard's reality as a mixed-race woman. I did stumble on some primary sources describing this experience as one of _"privilege and ease,"_ as if someone like the commander led an easier life compared to others with darker skin.

I had no idea if this was true.

Perception seemed to be everything, making many of these beliefs and opinions true by default.

These lessons had thoroughly expanded my perspective. Unfortunately, I had nothing to compare this to, at least not on this scale, dating back centuries in human history.

We asari of course had varying skin tones of blue and violet, but this was something that we had merely accepted about our people…

Or perhaps I was ignorant about that, too, and the truth was far different.

Nevertheless, I had to blow my nose from how much crying I had done the night prior. Reading about such cruelty among humans had affected me, deeply—especially after finding out that those same engrained prejudices still continued to drive at least some social divisions between humans to this day. I wiped at my eyes for quite a while, hoping that they were not too red from my emotional evening.

Needing to set these lessons aside for the time being, I checked my email.

Pertaining to the _Normandy_ , the rest of the squad had apparently created a group chat, _Team Renegade Shepard_ , and they had invited me to join via my omni-tool. Sniffling a bit, I smiled over the invite, making a mental note to join the group later, after I had cleaned myself up from my long night.

Some hours before the invite came in, I had received a few troubling emails:

_From: Vakarian, Garrus – Weird XO email…_

_Tali, Liara,_

_Hey, did you ladies by chance get a really weird "welcoming" email from Navigator Pressly? I suppose he was trying to welcome us to the crew. Just came off strange._

_I asked Wrex in person. He has no idea what I'm talking about. Could be that Pressly's scared of him._

_Did you get the same message, too? Or is it only me?_

_Hope it wasn't just me. Sort of. Maybe._

_-Garrus_

.

_From: Tali'Zorah – Re: Weird XO email…_

_Garrus, Liara,_

_Yes, I did! I'm so freaking mad about it!_

_He dresses up his words in that fancy-sounding speech to make it sound like he isn't being a total jerk!_

_I want to go up to him and ask what this was all about. But when I start thinking about it, I can't actually do it. I wouldn't want to embarrass Shepard, you know? Then, I start thinking about it more, and that's probably why Pressly sent these to us! Because he knew we wouldn't say anything to his face!_

_By the way, I did my research on that thing Kaidan and Ashley were being weird about back on the Mako. This is kind of the same… I mean, it's related. It hurts being on the receiving end of something like this—again—and this time it's not some C-Sec bosh'tet. It's the ship's executive officer, the one who's second-in-command around here._

_He was so subtle about it, too. Enough to cover for himself. That really complicates things._

_Liara, whenever you wake up, please come find Garrus and me on the lower level. We should discuss this._

_-Tali_

.

_From: Pressly, Navigator – Normandy Onboarding_

_Dr. T'Soni,_

_Navigator Charles Pressly here, Executive Officer to Lieutenant-Commander Sol Shepard. In case you are unfamiliar with Alliance staffing assignments and protocols, I am in charge of handling day-to-day tasks aboard the ship. You may think of me as the administrative assistant to the captain and to the crew._

_Welcome to the Normandy, and to Commander Shepard's diverse squad of specialists and combatants._

_As I understand it, your extensive knowledge of the Protheans should serve us well during this operation. This is to be expected, as we humans have little-to-no knowledge of the Protheans, outside of our handful of discoveries in places like our official Archives on the planet Mars. I would think that the asari ought to have broader experiences with such an old species, given your longer life spans._

_Our Chief Medical Officer, Dr. Karin Chakwas, tells me your intelligence and scientific capabilities are unmatched. After doing my own research on you, I have to agree. If you were a human, I believe you would make an excellent candidate for our open Science Officer position. It's a shame you're ineligible._

_Since you are an asari, we thankfully have no need to go out of our way to find extra food for you. Should you require any other supplies—clothing, medication, or any other asari-specific products I may be unfamiliar with—do inform me. I can put in a requisitions order for supplies as needed._

_If you should need any emergency items, such as your element zero feminine products, it would be best that you notify Commander Shepard instead. She will be more likely to gauge the seriousness of your emergency, maintain discretion, and plot a course to the Citadel or the nearest asari colony as required._

_Please do not hesitate to let me know if you have any questions or concerns._

_Cordially,_

_-Pressly_

About an hour later, and after spending almost all of that time crying in the women's shower stall, I made my way down the elevator to the _Normandy's_ storage area. Realizing that there _were_ things I needed to have delivered to the ship from my apartment on Thessia—my other clothes, research materials, and a few personal items—I felt as if I would never have those things again, not for as long as I was on this mission.

Not for as long as Navigator Pressly was Shepard's executive officer.

I missed my comforter the most. The standard blanket I had over this bed wasn't the same.

As soon as I exited the elevator, I found Garrus and Tali near the Mako together, waiting for me.

"Hey, you," greeted Tali, sounding sad. "We were just about to check up on you in your room. I take it you also got one of those _special emails?"_

"Yes…"

Garrus gestured for the three of us to sit down, far enough away from Ashley and Wrex sharing a conversation on the opposite end of the vehicle bay, over near the weapons lockers.

None of us quite knew what to say at first.

Especially not with our other comrades joking around across the way, so oblivious.

"Liara," said Garrus. "Sent you that invite to the group chat. Did you not want to join up…?"

"Oh, I'm sorry," I expressed, accessing the invite with my omni-tool. "It must have slipped my mind… Did the others join as well?"

Garrus listed the names: "It's you, me, Tali, Wrex, Ashley, and Kaidan. No one else. We're holding a vote on whether we should invite Joker or not. So far, we're leaning toward a solid _no,_ since he _probably_ wouldn't be able to keep the place a secret. Be sure to vote in the poll when you can."

"You mean, not even the commander is allowed in?"

"Why would we let Shepard join?!" sputtered Tali. "In the logs, Wrex has been telling corny old jokes about Clan Urdnot, all Kaidan mentions are his migraines and how he's not up for talking, and Ashley has been complaining about her period and her insane cramps!"

"Yeah, Shepard wouldn't go for that," explained Garrus.

"We're _supposed_ to use it as a place away from her, you know, to help us feel closer. If we need to reference it while she's around, say _TRS. Team Renegade Shepard_. She won't know."

I supposed that was fair, despite the secrecy. "I see…"

"But, ironically enough," admitted Tali, "We haven't brought up these emails in the chat. I wanted to send you a private message. You hadn't joined up yet."

"I've been a bit distracted today."

Garrus nodded in acceptance. "No harm done, Liara," he consoled. "Tali and I just didn't want to bring it up to the others. You know, in case Kaidan and Ashley clammed up again. The last thing we want is to make things awkward for them. I'm sure they have a lot of respect for our XO."

I chanced asking the obvious question, "Do you think that the commander might be able to help?"

Tali spoke her mind: "Maybe… His wording is barely subtle enough to mask what's going on. Of course, he wasn't stupid enough to be overt in his meaning. If someone took our side, they _could_ see what he's trying to do. I honestly have no idea if Shepard would even care about us like this…"

"Care about you like what?"

The three of us whipped around, finding Commander Shepard standing over us in the casual blue of her Alliance fatigues, looking down at our depressing little group with some suspicion.

On top of the shock of her appearing her so suddenly, I couldn't breathe, seeing the commander with her hair down—in person, and not through a vid or a photograph. As one full wave of straight length, Shepard had her hair parted at one, high side of her head—not quite in the center, and not too far off to one edge. That fullness of golden brown wrapped around her face, down past her shoulders, nearest the bend of her arm where her hair began to curve around and span out in lushness.

Behind her, I already knew that her hair nearly reached the small of her back.

Behind her, farther, I spotted Ashley gaping at the commander.

Wrex was halfway to the elevator, calling for the chief to hurry up.

Ashley soon caught herself, leaving with him and looking rather flushed.

"Shepard!" squeaked Tali. "What are you doing here?! W-We didn't hear you come down the elevator!"

Shepard spared no directness—"This is _my ship,_ Tali. I go where I want, when I want. It isn't my fault you didn't hear the elevator. Fair warning: you won't ever hear my footsteps when I walk somewhere. It's highly likely that I'll scare you again like this in the future."

"Your training, right," said Garrus. "I guess we should enjoy the surprises from you, huh, Commander?"

"If it makes things easier, sure," humored Shepard, kneeling down next to me to join us. "Now what's this about me _caring?_ The three of you don't look like you're in the best mood. Is everything all right?"

Tali and Garrus exchanged looks with me.

The commander gave us a long moment to have our wordless exchange. She showed patience where we had expected her to show annoyance and intolerance. This was _her ship,_ after all. She had the right to know everything that went on here. Still, she continued to kneel here at my side, not rushing us at all.

Garrus nodded to me.

Tali elbowed my arm.

Despite our pretend-telepathy from mere seconds before, I couldn't know how they'd decided that I was the best candidate to broach the subject.

"Well, Commander," I started, "This morning, Tali, Garrus and I—we received emails from someone aboard the ship. These emails made us feel…" This patience in her eyes, again, as she regarded me: I couldn't tell if it was natural for her, or forced, or convenient. Whatever her motivations, the way she listened to my words helped make this easier. "We felt uncomfortable when we read them."

"Uncomfortable?" asked Shepard, blameless. "What do you mean? Who sent these emails?" As Tali and Garrus shared more glances with me, cautious, we watched as the commander pieced things together in her head. "Were these the welcome emails XO Pressly sent out? _Normandy_ onboarding?" We each nodded; somehow, she knew enough to grow incensed, the flares raging through her stare—not at all directed at us. "What did he say?" More hesitation on our end; more rage from her end. "You're not in trouble. Forward me the emails he sent you. I need to see these for myself."

Joker's announcement sounded over the comm system: _"Hey folks, pulling the ship into the nearest fuel station in fifteen minutes. If you need to stock up on some goodies, now's the time! I hear the convenience store's having a sale, so unless you're dead broke, you, uh, you really have no excuse."_

Garrus checked his email contacts with his omni-tool. "Um… Not to delay things, Commander, but I can't remember how to find that directory with your email address. Did I even have it in the first place?"

"Pressly was supposed to send it to us directly," noted Tali, also finding nothing in her inbox.

I came up empty-handed as well. "He must have _forgotten_ to send it to us."

"That son of a—!" Shepard all but punched at her keyboard over her own omni-tool.

_From: Shepard, Commander – (no subject)_

_Forward me those emails._

_Now._

_Again, you're not in trouble._

_-Shepard_

I forwarded mine to her without delay.

Tali and Garrus did the same.

Shepard remained quiet and still beside me as she read Navigator Pressly's words.

She didn't rush.

She didn't speed through what he wrote.

The commander took in every word, analyzing the nuance there, the subtlety, the intentions.

Something told me our XO had a history with this type of behavior.

By the time she finished reading each of Pressly's correspondences to us, Shepard looked to me. She found my eyes red: red from my late night with the blare of my terminal's brightness drying my eyes. Red from my own childish ignorance coating the moisture back over my sight. Red from my adult disbelief pouring back down over everything again, as I struggled _not_ to do, right now, right in front of her, sniffling a little, as her own eyes widened at the sight of my reactions.

Shepard sprang back to her feet, storming over to the elevator.

Garrus, Tali and I struggled to keep up with her.

"Commander, hold on!" shouted Garrus, keeping the elevator door open for all of us. "Look, Shepard, I get that you're angry—"

"—this is unacceptable," seethed Shepard, as we all fit into the elevator together.

"But, Shepard—" Tali struggled to find her words as we ascended to the crew deck. "Can't we just— _blind copy_ you on our responses, s-so you could build a trail against him? Do you _have_ to confront him out in the open like this?!"

"Tali, I get that you're nervous. You don't know how I do things around here. Not yet. You're about to learn. I suggest you sit back and let me handle this."

As much as I longed to hold her, to soothe her— _anything_ —I held myself back.

"Shepard," I spoke instead, "Won't the others know that we told you? They might mistrust us."

"Liara, I won't implicate any of you," promised Shepard. "No one has to know. Let me take care of this."

"As you wish, Commander…"

Right before the elevator doors opened anew, Shepard covered her mouth with her hand, inhaling and exhaling in strain and in control.

She then pushed past us, leaving to the crew deck, and rushing up the winding stairs to the CIC.

In the blue-orange glow of the mess hall, Wrex and Ashley sat together, sharing lunch with some of the other crew. Once they saw Shepard marching upstairs, they all abandoned their meals. The other crew members hurried up the opposite set of stairs to follow the commotion, while Ashley and Wrex came over to us.

"What's gotten into her?" asked Wrex, leading the way up the steps. We all followed. "She all right?"

"Uh, no," was all Garrus could say.

"She's really not," added Tali.

Ashley demanded to know, "Well what the hell happened?! Why is she so pissed off?"

A casualty of Shepard's storm, we found Kaidan with his back pressed against one of the walls in the CIC. He stared after the commander in horror, watching as she made her way over to Navigator Pressly. Everyone else near the galaxy map shared in his panic, hurrying out of the way of Shepard's war path.

Everyone except for Pressly himself, who was preoccupied writing something down on a datapad.

However, he noticed Shepard at the last moment. Scrambling to salute her while simultaneously trying to hide his datapad out of sight, he kept fumbling around on her approach.

"Err, Commander?" he stuttered, caught in her headlights. "Commander, what can I do for you—?"

Shepard grabbed him by the blue and gold of his uniform collar. "You think this is a joke, Pressly?!" she raged. "I name you as my XO, and _this_ is how you choose to represent me!?"

Navigator Pressly began to hyperventilate: frantic, flailing. "Ma'am, I-I didn't mean it!" he cried, under no illusions whatsoever as to his wrongdoing. "I was only trying to be cordial! H-How else was I supposed to relate to someone so foreign—?!"

" _You're_ _out of line!_ In case you forgot, this is _my ship!_ Did you forget who I am, Pressly? Do you have a case of fucking amnesia? You forgot my principles, my rules, what I will and won't tolerate?!"

"No, Ma'am! _No, Ma'am!"_

"Bullshit!"

Shepard shoved Pressly against the wall.

He slumped to his knees, backpedaling and scrambling harder and harder against the surface.

Stepping to him again, the commander pulled at his collar tighter than before. She edged her face right in front of his, forcing him to look her in the eye. He kept floundering, resisting, heaving for breath by breathing in the full ire of Shepard's incense, yet she refused to relent.

"Take a good, long look at me, Pressly," she hissed, menacing. When he could only shut his eyes and whimper, Shepard slammed his back, his balding head _harder_ against the wall. _"Look at me!"_

Eyes wide open now, Pressly stammered back, "I-I'm looking! I'm looking!"

In a low, sinister tone, Shepard posed a single question: "Now what makes you think you had the right to say the shit you did?"

"I had no right, Commander. None whatsoever!"

"No, tell me— _honestly._ What _really_ made you write those words down, and hit send?"

"I… I don't know, Ma'am!"

"Well, you'd better come up with a real answer. Otherwise you're gonna find out real soon what it's like to get thrown out of an airlock."

Pressly hollered for mercy: "Okay, okay! Please, just—just let me breathe first! Let me breathe!"

Shepard pushed him away one last time before stepping back.

Navigator Pressly groaned and coughed in agony, his face heated with embarrassment: every single crew member aboard the _Normandy_ had come up to watch the commotion. Those who had already been in the CIC remained rooted to their panels and other placements throughout the space. Those who had arrived from elsewhere aboard the ship—including Dr. Chakwas, Engineer Adams, and several others—had crowded and huddled around the galaxy map, gawking at the scene.

Joker, who had finished docking the ship at the fuel station, had limped over here from the helm. He stared, transfixed, along with everyone else, as their own self-preservation instincts had kicked in.

All they could do was hope and pray that they would never be in this same position—on the receiving end of the commander's justified rage.

"I'm waiting, Pressly," warned Shepard. "Don't test my patience."

Pressly, still crumpled upon the ground, forced out his answer, "Commander, ever since… Ever since the war, we've all been mistrustful. This is the Alliance military—a _human_ military! _Turian, asari, quarian, krogan?_ What do we look like, bringing these aliens aboard to participate in our operations? We look like traitors to our forefathers, that's what! And I'm not the only one who feels this way!"

Shepard looked around to the rest of the crew. "Is this true?" she posed, wholly serious. "Does someone else _share_ Navigator Pressly's views? Any of you? _Anyone?"_

The human crew members crowding around us non-humans: every single one of them took one, if not several steps backward, away from the scene, away from any responsibility, their synced movements plain and loud as a joined march.

The other crew at their panels nearest the cockpit all exited their chairs, scrambling back and away as well, not wanting any part of this.

Brow raised, Shepard glared down at Pressly, speaking with a swaggering sort of authority: "Unless you're ready to name names, it looks like you're on your own."

Vindictive, Pressly spat back, "I _am_ ready to name names, Ma'am! I won't go down on my own for staying true to our great history! And before you get started, this has nothing to do with you! It's not at all related to what your people suffered in years past… Haven't we as a species moved beyond those old wounds? You're nothing like those aliens—"

"—I'll be the one who decides that. Not you."

Shepard bent down and slung Navigator Pressly over her shoulder, picking him up with ease. She then proceeded to walk toward the airlock— _knowing_ that we had docked somewhere already.

The rest of the crew in her path scurried out of her way.

Pressly protested, "What in seven hells are you doing, Shepard?! You can't do this to me! You can't!"

"I can and I am," she corrected. "You should have remembered this _before_ you decided to disrespect my team. I won't tolerate it from you or anyone else! That's final."

"Shepard, this isn't fair!" he pouted, pounding on her back. "Put me down this instant!"

"Not happening. I've had enough of your shit! I'm tossing you out of here whether you like it or not."

"Commander, we're at a _fuel station!"_

"Too bad."

Commander Shepard opened the doors to the airlock.

She threw Pressly out to the concrete surface of the fuel station, startling the passersby and station workers. Far-away shouts as echoes, Pressly _still_ tried to bargain with the commander, offering to give her a full list of those names in exchange for her forgiveness.

The commander ignored him, returning to the interior of the ship, leaving him abandoned outside.

When she returned, Shepard made known her next steps:

"As soon as I get back to my cabin, I'm performing an audit. Every single email correspondence and extranet search you've made while on this ship's Alliance network—I'm going over _all of it_ with a fine-tooth comb, no matter how long it takes. So if you've got some relevant dirt in your history, guess what? You're ending up the same way!"

To my dismay, _far_ too many of the crew exchanged horrified looks with one another.

"You know what? Let me make it easy for you. If _any_ of you have some shit that you know _damn well_ you're gonna get busted for, save yourselves the trouble! Get the hell off my ship, right now!"

More movement, more marching, scrambling: nearly all of the _Normandy's_ crew hurried past where Shepard stood on the path to the helm, leaving the ship en masse. They knew better than to hesitate, to try doubling back to get their things first. Every single one of them left with only the clothes on their backs and whatever else they may have had on-hand, leaving the rest of us to absolute silence.

Only our squad remained, along with Joker, Dr. Chakwas, Engineer Adams, and a handful of others.

Shepard scoffed, at once indignant and knowing.

No surprise.

No remorse.

No regret for how she chose to run things.

How long had I spent here, gazing at her in amazement…

Shepard's fearlessness had pulled me in, carving this new craving inside of me.

Joker's need to make scathing light of the situation pushed through: "Seriously…? Are we the only non-racists left? I figured we'd have at least a few bad apples. _Practically everyone?_ Sheesh!" Not liking this unbreakable edge about the commander, he spoke with her, "So, you, uh, gonna clean out their rooms now? I mean, I'd offer to help, but you know… Plus, it looks like I've got all these new responsibilities to handle on my own now that we're down to a skeleton crew! Guess you do, too."

"That's the plan," confirmed Shepard, making her way out of the CIC. "Joker, get us to the closest Alliance HQ space station. We're gonna have a lot of junk to dump in their lost and found department."

"Aye, aye, Ma'am!" obliged Joker with a grin, truly, as if nothing had happened.

As Shepard was about to pass Ashley by, she stopped.

The commander remained parallel to her, keeping our squadmate in her periphery.

Out of the corner of her eye, Commander Shepard took in the brimming sights of Ashley's tamed trembling, nervous breathing, and swallowing air.

Shepard questioned her, "What the hell is wrong with you, Williams?"

No answer.

"Are you seriously going to let me think you're one of them? You _want me_ to make that assumption?"

Still no response.

"Suit yourself."

Shepard then left back downstairs to the crew's quarters; left her standing there, possibly exposed.

Kaidan couldn't bring himself to look at her.

Garrus departed without a word, avoiding her.

Wrex glared at her, before leaving to help Shepard clear out those now-vacant rooms.

Tali went up to Ashley and spoke her mind—"I don't know why I'm disappointed. I should look at the bright side instead: I've only known you for a couple of days. Should be pretty easy to stop myself from caring about you now."

Once Tali left, I remained here for the short duration of the trip to the Alliance's nearest space station.

I felt the same disappointment that Tali had mentioned, though it felt tempered, somehow.

Perhaps my usual aversion to friendships and society had built me to expect this. Or maybe it had something to do with the cryptic meaning from earlier in the vehicle bay, when Ashley had gawked at Shepard's beauty.

Eventually, Kaidan left to assist Shepard and Wrex with everything.

I made myself stay in this place, watching Ashley's discomfort grow with my continued regard of her.

I finally had my first real taste of possessiveness—metallic, like a pinch of blood over my tongue—and I couldn't look away, couldn't stop myself from making myself clear to her without words.

Even if Shepard never returned my curiosities, my growing affections for her;

Even if Shepard would only flee from me in learning about my proclivities;

Even if Shepard had no real interest in me whatsoever:

I understood where my mind had gone, and I had no intention of ever guiding its path elsewhere.

* * *

Commander Shepard elected to keep the _Normandy_ docked here at this military base while she handled the fallout of the events with the crew.

We stayed here for about a week or so. Kaidan assisted Shepard in dealing with the bureaucracy of the whole affair: resignation letters, possible disciplinary hearings, and sending all of the former crew's belongings to that lost and found department that the commander had mentioned.

Joker, Dr. Chakwas, Engineer Adams, and the remaining Alliance crew also needed some time to acclimate to all of their new, voluntary, responsibilities after the reshuffling.

Shepard decided against assigning a new executive officer, choosing to instead handle those duties on her own. She had been the _Normandy's_ XO before under Captain Anderson's leadership, and so she was no stranger to those associated tasks. For formality's sake, she at least named Lieutenant Alenko as her second-in-command, leaving him as the ship's marine officer in charge of security and weapons.

The commander wasted no time in getting to work—as soon as we arrived to the sterilized cleanliness of the solid blue-and-white military base, Shepard arranged deliveries for all of the squad's other clothing and personal articles to arrive here from our homes. So, along with all of the Alliance paperwork with the crew, we also stayed here to wait for those deliveries to reach us within the next few days.

Of my personal items, I had the perfect thing in mind to give to Shepard as a gift: a thank you from me to her, for all that she had done to help us feel welcome and at home aboard her ship.

I wasn't sure how long it would take me to draw up the nerve to actually give the gift to her, however…

For the time being, the squad and I, minus Ashley, had picked up some snacks and supplies together from one of the military base's many convenience stores. We stayed together right outside the store, standing near a bench.

Not too far out of view, the _Normandy_ remained docked against the backdrop of the space station's transparent overhead structure. Passing through the open airlock, a handful of Alliance military personnel brought out several more bags containing the former crew's belongings.

This starry view comforted me, swelling my optimism for the days, weeks, and months that lay ahead.

Everyone around me seemed to be in a much better mood, joking openly as we indulged in our snacks. I enjoyed this bottle of raspberry juice I had purchase, sipping the beverage through a straw: a sweet, sugary reminder of my first meeting with our ship's captain.

Wrex and Garrus engaged in a jovial re-enactment of the commander throwing Pressly out of the ship.

Tali stood next to me with her bottle of filtered soda, laughing at our little impromptu show.

Kaidan, still reeling a bit from everything, remained seated on the bench, smiling every so often with us.

Now that Kaidan was here with us, though, this meant that Shepard was nearly finished with all of the paperwork and other details.

I hoped that she would come over to join us soon.

But, given how much Shepard preferred to keep to herself, I knew that my hopes were rather silly.

Breathing hard as the re-enactment ended, Garrus smirked at me. "You know, Liara…there's something about that whole episode that I can't seem to stop thinking about."

"What is it?" I asked.

"Once Shepard read those emails—remember the way she looked at you, then sprang into action?"

As if I could have forgotten: "Well, yes, of course…"

Tali pulled me in with a big hug. "It's because she saw that you'd been crying! Our brave, brave captain wouldn't let anyone get away with hurting _you,_ Liara. She had to protect your precious spirit!"

"Aww, is that what happened?" teased Wrex. "Seemed like Shepard was extra pissed somehow. Guess that explains it!"

"Wait, really?" asked Kaidan, as if waking up from his own thoughts. "Is that true?"

Hiding myself from them, I could only mumble back, "I have no idea what it is you mean…"

"Sure you do," encouraged Garrus. "The way you looked at Shepard with those big, innocent blue eyes of yours, she couldn't resist. You even gave her one of these—" He sniffled, delicate. "It was downright adorable, I'll say. How could the commander _not_ want to take out the guy who upset you?"

Giggling in a fervor, Tali hugged me tighter. Wrex laughed in good-humor, not meaning me any harm at all, while Kaidan had grown red in the face, busying himself with the bottle of beer he had purchased.

I protested, "Now hold on just one minute! I didn't do any of that on purpose…"

"You didn't have to, silly!" said Tali. "It's all a part of you. All part of your sweet, lovely personality that drives Commander Shepard to the ends of the galaxy, in your honor."

"Tali, you make it all sound so— _maudlin_."

"Oh, I know! This reminds me of some of my favorite romantic films, that's all."

Wrex smirked. "You watch those things, Tali? Chick flicks?"

"They are not _chick flicks!"_ insisted Tali. "They are wonderfully epic and moving stories that inspire me to see the best in people!" When Wrex simply laughed again, Tali sighed, muttering to herself: "Kicking that racist Pressly out on his ass on a fuel station in the middle of nowhere. That was the sweetest thing anyone has ever done for me…"

We spotted Joker ambling over to us, waving hello as he neared.

"Hey, guys, big news!" he cheered. "Now that we have next-to-no crew on the _Normandy_ , the commander added all of you to the Alliance's payroll! It's officially coming out of the Council's budget, since, well, I guess this is more of a Spectre thing than a military thing. You should be getting your first pay wired to your accounts soon."

"That's great and all," noted Wrex, suspicious of Joker now. "If this is about _us,_ why're _you_ so excited?"

Joker gave a thumbs-up. "'Cause _I'm_ getting a raise, that's why! This means I can finally get those—" He stopped himself from sharing any additional details. "Uh, there's something expensive I wanted to buy, and now this covers it. Happy now?"

"Yeah, yeah. None of our business anyway."

Sounding hurt, Joker said, "Uh, wait… Kaidan's here, so I figured… Ah, shit." He looked to each of us. "After that whole showdown on the ship, am I, like, not invited, or…? No _other_ humans allowed?"

Tali beckoned him closer. "Don't worry, Joker, you can join us," she allowed. "You're one of the good ones."

"Ouch… Thanks, Tali, I get it. I'll try to keep staying as one of the good ones!"

"By the way, Joker," said Kaidan, sounding distant. "Any idea what Ashley's been up to?"

Joker did a double-take. "Who, _her?"_ he ridiculed. "Dude, I don't freaking know Ash anymore. You wanna know how she's doing? Go find her yourself!"

Kaidan bolted to his feet. "Fine, I will!" he declared. "Unlike you, Joker, I refuse to believe that Ash is one of them. _I know her._ There must be a way to solve things peacefully." He looked to each of us, one at a time. "For the record, I'm not taking sides… What Navigator Pressly and the others did was horrible, and I won't make excuses for them. But this, with Chief Williams: I don't want it to affect our morale and teamwork during missions together. I'll get to the bottom of this, I swear!"

We all watched him leave back to the ship.

Joker glared at him as he went. "Yeah, we'll see about that, buddy…"

"Hmm, not sure how I feel about this," pondered Garrus. "After all that, _this_ is what he has to say?"

Wrex, too, had little sympathy. " _Not taking sides_ is weak," he chastised. "If everyone did that all the time, we'd get nowhere in life. Sometimes you've gotta make a choice. He made the wrong one."

"That's too bad," mourned Tali. "I guess all we can do is wait to see what he comes up with. _If_ he comes up with anything. I have to admire his optimism, at least."

I wanted nothing to do with Ashley, though not necessarily for the same reasons as everyone else.

I hoped that no one decided to ask for my opinion, otherwise I may have been forced to explain _why_.


	4. Repression

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Let's pretend that the captain's quarters and mess hall on the SR-1 are similar to the ones on the SR-2.

" _Feelings" by Tinashe / "Mary Magdalene" by FKA twigs_

 **IV.** Repression

_(Shepard)_

Familiar tasks.

New feelings about them.

We spent the new few weeks drifting in the _Normandy_ during this transition period. I had us fly around for some missions here and there as needed: primarily answering Alliance distress calls, hitting pockets of geth attacking other colonies, and collecting resources for the ship. With no real way of following Saren's trail or knowing where he meant to go next, that left us with the original plan from the get-go.

Finding out why there were so many geth on Feros.

Figuring out what Matriarch Benezia was up to on Noveria.

I plotted a course for Joker to get us to Feros first within the next few solar days. Yes, the mission was important, but I needed the extra time to complete this audit and restore operations to the ship.

Every single crew member no longer aboard had a ton of ethically questionable shit in their history and emails. They'd had the nerve to use their official work email addresses for this mess, too.

Sitting at my desk, I had multiple monitors up with my terminal, handling these final things from the audit and from managing the crew's needs. Hip-hop music blasting, bass booming, vibrating against the back of my chair, I wrapped up my report on the audit, noting that I hadn't found anything from the remaining Alliance crew onboard. Across from my leather sofa, I had my huge TV screen on, idling in my third-person shooter multiplayer game. I hadn't had the chance to get back to it in a while.

I had to finish up these last couple of things, and then I could take a nap first before playing a match.

Joker had way too many extranet habits that the Alliance didn't need to know about. The only reason I knew about it was because, in my searches related to _aliens_ , his account had the most hits _by far_.

Despite how disgusted I was that his searches for human-asari lesbian porn had spiked in the last month since Liara joined, I didn't find any xenophobic evidence to report.

After that whole drama with Ashley, the squad were understandably on-edge with her still on the ship. I'd expected her to resign from this assignment on her own, or maybe for her to demand that I fire her. Without any solid evidence, I _couldn't_ fire her. As far as I knew, she hadn't spoken a word to anyone aside from Lieutenant Alenko, determined as she was to suffer everyone else's clear judgment of her.

I'd decided to leave her on the ship during these last couple of missions.

From my automated search of Ashley's work correspondences and extranet searches, my virtual assistant hadn't turned up anything unethical or even slightly xenophobic. None of the standard search terms and tags I'd used to successfully bust everyone else had worked on her trail. So either she'd scrubbed it all beforehand, or she knew to cover her tracks from the very beginning.

Ashley didn't strike me as a cunning person. Not like that. Still, she went to great lengths to avoid me on the ship. And when I did see her, that veiled desire for me in her eyes—she made too much too clear.

Something told me to do a manual search through her history later…even if it meant indulging myself.

Because now that I thought about it, and now that I could be honest about this, I wasn't sure how to feel about this situation with her. Whenever I did manage to bump into Ashley on the ship, I noticed that her eyes were red—from a lack of sleep, from something else. She stuck to her duties down in the armory, and she kept to herself, avoiding the team aside from Kaidan, but there was far more going on here.

I couldn't help noticing a strong aura from Ashley, radiating off from her more than usual these days. Like she had something she needed to tell me. Like she had something she needed to show me. Like there was far more to her than I'd assumed, and she was determined to make sure that I knew this. And I had never felt this strength of someone's energy before, as this undeniable _need_ from another person: threatening to pull at my own thoughts of her, forcing these damned emotions out from me.

It was all I could do to push this back down.

It was all I could do remind myself that Ashley…was straight. She had to be. This energy she gave off couldn't have been along these lines I kept thinking of; kept surprising myself in wanting way more of.

I shouldn't have cared, or kept thinking about her, or kept wanting more from her.

I was her commanding officer. And she was straight. _She was straight._ That was it. Case closed.

But my other assumptions about her had been wrong. Maybe this one was, too. Knowing that, I knew that I was almost out of excuses, out of places to hide.

Watching her struggle alone with this drama, I felt bad. And now I cared about her—way more than I would ever admit. Deep down, I wanted Ashley to share her feelings with me. Even from this distance, I could taste how pure and unassuming those feelings of hers were, despite how she had every right to be angry at me for ruining her friendships with the team. Yet she didn't take her anger out on me, surrendering in the face of my command, so vulnerable…

All the same, I would figure out exactly what to do with her _later_.

Definitely not now.

The rest of the squad seemed content to go along with my decision.

I was relieved that they had pretty good synergy together, even with this whole Ashley thing going on.

But, my instincts wouldn't calm down: for all the solid teamwork they shared with each other, I felt their longing for my individual attention. They wanted to get to know me. I'd had my excuses to avoid them before, what with needing to take care of this audit by myself. And they had been brief and infrequent in their emails to me whenever they had supplies they required, or other similar, cordial requests.

They appeared to make a coordinated effort to not bug me or piss me off, never emailing me more than absolutely necessary, and never messaging me about personal things. In general, they stuck to keeping me up to speed on their work and duties aboard the ship:

Garrus would only message me with updates on his calibrations to the Mako's weapons.

Tali would only email me with finalized checklists of work she'd completed with Engineer Adams.

Wrex would only let me know if someone's armor needed to be replaced, upgraded, or modified.

Kaidan would only give me his reports on the squad's combat skills and improvements.

Ashley contacted me the least out of everyone, only to give me the shortest of status reports on our weapon usage, keeping tabs on any possible wear and tear as she cleaned our guns. Her messages made me question too much, because, again, I _felt_ her masked emotions for me dripping through, so obvious.

Liara would only inform me of her progress in collecting more data on the Protheans for me to access…though, like Ashley, her messages always had more to say than the actual words on-screen.

 _Teamwork_ , even with interpersonal issues with their captain.

Because of that, I'd saved the hardest of my tasks for last.

I appreciated their consideration, so I made up my mind to send personalized emails to each of my squad members. I thanked them for their patience throughout this whole process. I let them know that they were free to request one-on-one meetings with me, whether it was about work or whatever else. I would do my best to respond to their messages as soon as I could, as long as I wasn't busy.

I tempered my message to Ashley. I needed to maintain this distance from her, for both of our sakes.

Everyone's replies trickled in as I continued to sit here, knowing damn well that I wasn't done.

I hadn't sent one of these emails to Liara yet.

_I had to send her one._

She would know if I chose not to.

She and the rest of the squad talked a lot, shared a lot—practically everything.

Accepting that I couldn't put this off, I buckled down and tried to write something:

_To: T'Soni, Liara – Thanks._

_Liara,_

_Thank you for your patience with me and with the remaining crew throughout this transition period. I only wanted you and the others to feel welcome here aboard the Normandy. Doesn't matter that this is a human military—this ship is of human-turian design. This frigate represents those different perspectives coming together with a shared goal—_

No.

I deleted all of that.

What the fuck did the _Normandy's_ design have to do with her on a personal level?

_To: T'Soni, Liara – Thank you._

_Liara,_

_I appreciate all the research you've sent me on the Protheans so far. Helps to understand them better after not knowing much about them at all before. The way they communicate using another person's physiology kind of reminds me of your asari bonding process—_

She wasn't her research, and her research was not her.

Even though she was our Prothean expert, that really wasn't what I associated her with…

_To: T'Soni, Liara – Progress._

_Liara,_

_Lieutenant Alenko tells me that you have a high skill ceiling for improving your biotics a lot more, but you aren't accessing that higher tier in battle. He says you're choosing not to. Are you holding back on purpose? We should have a talk about this if you are—_

Even though this was all true, it had nothing to do with _her_ , either…

I had only one sensible option left:

_To: T'Soni, Liara – Hey._

_Liara,_

_As you may have heard by now, I'm sending individual emails to the team._

_I'm finished with that audit. This means I have more free time._

_I have one last thing to take care of before I can finally kick back. I plan on sending you an actual email once I'm done with this. I didn't want to leave you to wonder why I hadn't sent you anything. I promise I'm not ignoring you. I want to give you my full attention._

_Expect to hear from me later._

_-Shepard_

Satisfied with that, I hit send.

I didn't _really_ have anything else I needed to do.

All I did was buy myself some more time until the inevitable.

I'd been able to distract myself lately, keeping these all-consuming thoughts away for as long as possible. Now that I had no excuses, no more distractions, and nothing else to take care of, I had _nothing_ else to fall back on. While I'd worked, the thoughts had come up, only lingering in the background. I had been able to set them aside, more or less.

More or less, less was more, and far more so now that I had nothing pressing to handle.

The thoughts all came rushing back when Liara responded to my message a few minutes later:

_From: T'Soni, Liara – Re: Hey._

_Commander,_

_Yes, I had heard. I had been wondering, too. I think it's wonderful that you're doing this._

_Thank you._

_However, if it would be simpler for us to speak in person once you have time, perhaps we should do that instead. You do not need to worry yourself with sending me one of your planned emails in that case. I am willing to go with whichever option you prefer._

_Please let me know once you are able._

_-Liara_

These brand new prospects expanded an expanse up my chest, up to my heart, making me stretch out and exhale to fit this with me.

I folded my arms over my desk, resting my head here, all to pass the time—to make it _seem like_ I wasn't sitting here staring at her response, about to write back, right after I'd said that I had other shit to take care of first.

Ever since finding Liara on Therum, I'd had to force these thoughts back down, again and again.

More and more often, the willowy wisps of her voice would pass through my memory, igniting hotter into something else: suggestive, selective.

All of those shy looks Liara gave me each day—in the mess hall while she spent time with the others, in the CIC before a mission and before she switched her focus on, in the debriefing room once we were done with a mission and finished our discussions about what we'd found…and, occasionally, during a mission, but only ever when it was appropriate.

Downtime, time to think.

Thinking of all the ways she could have been something more for me, if I allowed it.

She wasn't in the Alliance. She wasn't in the military.

She was part of my team, yes, but not _the military_.

Enough of a loophole to get around fraternization. Enough of my overactive imagination had brought me to this point, with me barely restraining myself from wondering way too much about her.

I knew myself.

I needed to keep my control.

If I let go—if I let myself smell even a hint of Liara wanting me, too, that would've been game over.

 _Game over_ from wanting her in ways that probably would have scared her off, compromising our professional relationship, our teamwork, and this entire mission to go along with it.

Deciding that enough arbitrary time had passed, I replied to her:

_To: T'Soni, Liara – Re: Hey_

_Liara,_

_I'll pay you a visit instead._

_Will you be in your room behind the med bay?_

_-Shepard_

.

_From: T'Soni, Liara – Re: Hey._

_Commander,_

_I will wait for you in my room._

_I have something to give you—a gift, to express my gratitude for how much you've done for all of us._

_Perhaps it is a bit overdue. I had meant to give this to you after the incident with the crew. As you were quite busy these past few weeks, it never seemed like a good time. It certainly doesn't help that I am a bit nervous about this. I hope you will forgive me if I seem to be acting a little strange when you arrive._

_I suppose none of that will matter if you would rather decline the gift instead._

_What would you like to do, Shepard?_

_-Liara_

This submissiveness on Liara, the way it fit her, shaped her—so gentle and sweet and unique.

I dug my nails into the surface of my desk, clawing enough for the ache, for the pain to stop these fucking thoughts:

Making her do anything and everything _she_ wanted, but was too afraid to act on.

Making her scream, and cry, and beg for me to destroy her and pull her back up again.

Making her see that she could control me in her neediness alone—and how I sensed it, how I picked up on how much she _wanted_ to cling to me, yet she chose not to, to avoid pissing me off or disgusting me or pushing me away.

For weeks now, I had suppressed these thoughts: of waking Liara up from this naïveté of hers, and showing her what she missed out on in her shyness and isolation; of Liara growing obsessed with me, as obsessed as she was about her research, learning everything about me, and having that unending craving for me and no one else; of prying Liara's legs apart, tearing away at every shred of her reluctance to let me please her; of pinning Liara down against my bed, face down, and fucking her, _hard_ , right to her limit, exactly as she pleased.

I'd always had this potential, to want to please a woman this badly, to be in this deep:

To make her the center of my universe.

I'd resisted it before—my pride, my own fears about letting someone get in my head like this.

 _I was the commanding officer,_ but that didn't matter with her. Finally…it didn't matter with someone.

Liara had no fucking idea how much power she had in this situation.

_None whatsoever._

More suppression, more of it, _more_ wasn't enough to keep this motherfucking tone out of my reply:

_To: T'Soni, Liara – Re: Hey_

_Liara,_

_Speak your mind with me. You don't have to hold back._

_I want whatever you have to give to me._

_I'll be down to see you in half an hour._

_-Shepard_

* * *

Harsh freezing of a cold shower had sobered me enough, helping me head down to the crew deck with a clear head. I could finally breathe. I had my mind back…mostly. Ruffling out my slightly damp hair behind my back, I accepted how much I'd needed this reset button. After all, for as much as I'd tried to suppress everything, I had been stuck in my feelings. _Fucking feelings_ , yes, but feelings nonetheless.

I'd caught myself feeling some type of way about Liara when I shouldn't have.

Besides, she was probably still a virgin, or whatever the equivalent was for asari. Not that that was a bad thing… I was way more likely to corrupt her and hurt her with how aggressive I tended to be. That wasn't something I wanted to deal with. I couldn't be liable for her hurt feelings like that.

I couldn't let her get in my head and mess up my focus.

I couldn't let her know that she had this power over me.

I couldn't let my own pride down by lifting her up in any way whatsoever.

Stopping Saren was more important than how badly I wanted to have sex with Liara.

Passing through to the narrow, lighted navy blue of the med bay, I realized that Liara was probably one of those women who needed _more_. Not a hookup. No flings. No kinks or mind fucks.

I was willing to bet it would've been vanilla sex _only_ with her, no questions asked.

And she needed those _feelings_ , that commitment, that kind of tender love and validation, with the promise of getting married someday…

"Hello there, Commander," said Dr. Chakwas, a bit absent-minded as she gathered her things. "It feels like I've not seen you in ages. You've been stuck in your cabin for weeks! How was the audit?"

"It was fine," I said, not seeing any way to glamorize the whole thing.

Dr. Chakwas collected her coffee mug and her e-book reader. "Wonderful!" she chatted. "Cleaning house seems like it did the _Normandy_ well. Things feel a little more efficient than they did before, somehow." She then passed me by, explaining herself as she went: "You'll have to forgive me for running off so suddenly. I was just about to head back to my room to catch up on some reading. I haven't been able to put this series down! Or…did you need anything from me? Are you well?"

I narrowed my eyes, wondering, "You assume I'm not here to see you? To talk, see how you're doing?"

"Shepard, you _never_ come here for that," she teased. "I know you and you won't convince me otherwise! As much as I appreciate your efforts, there's no need to humor little old me. Really—if there are any emergencies, you know where to find me. Take care, Commander."

I gave her a curt nod.

Dr. Chakwas smiled at me with her familiar warmth, before fast-walking out of the med bay with a briskness in her step, excited to get back to her reading.

She usually did _everything_ here at her desk unless she needed to eat or sleep.

What was such a big deal about those books that she didn't want to read them here in the med bay?

Not wanting to think on it too much, I continued on to the far door to Liara's room.

The green light of the door controls let me know that she'd left her room unlocked.

I knocked anyway.

All the while, I let out the quietest exhales I could manage, blowing out these _remnants_.

_She probably didn't like me like that, anyway._

Liara answered the door, wearing one of her usual science outfits, and one of her usual demure looks.

I noticed, for the first time, from this angle, and in this bright, fixed lighting from the med bay, how unique the crests over her head were. That subtle dazzle of light blue along her crown reminded me of water. It made me picture gleams of sun over the ocean, of back home on Earth where I was from.

The vastness of her eyes reminded me of the same, so wide and pure and unending.

"Hello, Commander," greeted Liara, gaze fixed on my casual uniform boots.

"Hey, Liara," I replied, having long gotten used to this from her by now. "You good?"

Keeping her head canted down, she tracked her eyes up at me in a soft way that was so…

"Mostly, yes," she murmured: gentle, breathy. "It is nice to see you again. Please, come in."

 _Fuck, okay, she_ did _like me like that._

Liara stepped aside, welcoming me without words into the humble space she'd settled into back here. I wasn't surprised that she'd gravitated toward this old storage room. With the crates cleared out to make room for her bed, and a long desk for her terminal against the opposite wall, this worked well.

I shouldn't have been grinning. "So this is your hideout, huh?"

"Perhaps a hideout is a good way to describe it," accepted Liara, shifting a bit with her hands behind her back. "It is quiet here and I have no trouble concentrating on my work. I enjoy this room very much. I am grateful that Dr. Chakwas allowed me to stay here."

"Noise from the mess hall doesn't reach you?"

"Not unless they are extremely loud. It is the same for the med bay. I can get lost in my own world…"

Leaning against her desk, I gathered that I would have to keep the conversation going.

Liara had gone back to staring at my boots.

Self-conscious all of a sudden, I looked down at them, glancing them over.

Nothing there…

I guessed she just wanted to stare at anything of me: someplace with the least possible chance of accidentally making eye contact with me. Sympathizing with her, I knew that my stare was way too severe and penetrating, whether I wanted it to be or not. This habit of mine was here to stay, though.

With anyone else, I would've gotten annoyed by now.

With her, the whole thing was pretty cute, honestly.

So I asked her, "Something on your mind, Liara?"

"I am always thinking about _something_ , Commander…"

"And in my last message," I recalled, "I told you to speak freely with me."

Liara took one step toward me, whispering, "Yes, you did."

"I'm here now. So, let's talk."

"It is—difficult to know how much is too much. If I told you absolutely everything that is on my mind, I worry… I worry that you would think differently of me, Shepard. That is the last thing I want. That is why I… That is…th-that is to say… I must watch what I say. _I should._ I am doing my best."

"Sounds to me like you're overthinking things."

"Overthinking what to think about? What to _say_ about what I'm thinking about?"

I bit down on my laugh to avoid hurting her feelings. "You could say that, yeah."

"…I am making a fool of myself, aren't I?"

"That isn't true," I explained. "We're just talking."

"Commander, we are talking about what to talk about because I am too unwilling to speak my mind with you as you asked…" Liara let out a breath. "This is why I tend to avoid people. I never know what to say in these situations. Dealing with data disks and computers instead is…simpler."

"Hmm, you don't have trouble talking with the team," I pointed out, _knowing_ what this would do to her.

Liara flinched once, then twice—nervous tics. "But—that is not…! Shepard, _you_ are not them. They are not _you_. This is—it is hardly comparable!"

Pretending to sulk, I kicked away at air with my boot. "Okay, Liara, I see how it is…"

Crossing the distance between us, Liara pleaded with me, " _Please_ , Commander, forgive me! I-I did not mean to offend you! You are right that I am comfortable speaking with the rest of our team members. That…that does not mean I value you any less in comparison!"

I laughed, more amused by her sheer look of horror than anything.

"I'm only messing with you," I admitted. " _Obviously_ , you're more comfortable with the others. They go out of their way to spend time with you. This is the first time you and I have spoken one-on-one."

"Oh… You were only making a joke at my expense."

"Not at _your expense_ ," I emphasized. "I wanted to lighten the mood, that's all."

Liara looked at me like I'd spoken some indecipherable language. "Lighten the mood…?"

" _Yeah…_ What's wrong with that?"

"I am sorry, Commander," she said. "You are such a serious person. I could not imagine that you would try to make light of the situation." Flinching again, she mumbled, "What a mess I have made… I cannot even speak to you properly without embarrassing myself. In fact, I was terrified that this would happen. You must think I am not worth your time…"

Liara had misplaced her self-esteem somewhere, and she was in no condition to go looking for it.

Now that she was closer to me, staring down at the full angle to my boots, I saw the way she trembled.

I knew: if I so much as folded my arms, or sighed, or did anything else that she could take as impatience or frustration, I risked breaking her heart. _I knew_ , because her heart was right there on her long sleeve, pumping and beating at an insane rate.

Still hiding her hands behind her back, every breath she let out held the echoes of her quickening beats.

She longed for me to speak, unable and unwilling to fathom the possibility of _not_ waiting her turn.

Anderson had told me in his letter, _"Be kind to your squad."_

Looking into Liara's eyes that refused to make contact with mine, I felt…purified by her sincerity.

"I don't think that, Liara," I reassured her. "I doubt I ever could think that about you."

"R-Really?" she asked, her pupils snapping to mine, dilating as they did. "But—how could you not?"

"You haven't done anything wrong. I'm not gonna judge you for something like this. It's out of your control. We'll keep talking. Over time, I'm sure things will change. And if they don't, that's fine, too."

Liara smiled at me, brighter than the day. "Okay. Thank you…for choosing to be kind with me."

"Yeah, that's not something I hear every day," I mentioned, scowling.

Still smiling anyway, Liara's sincerity got to me again: "That is why I said _choose_. I understand that you are not normally like this with other people. You surprise me, Shepard."

"Mmm, I bet," I commented, not wanting to get deeper into this. "You said you had a gift for me?"

"Yes, I do," she confirmed, shifting her arms behind her back. "It is yours— _if_ you still want it…"

During my shower, I had thought about bringing her a present, too, but…

Aside from the Protheans and other science or history-related things, I had no idea what she _liked_.

"Sure. What is it?"

Liara handed me a thin, white, square case that fit right in my palms.

Some parts of it were warm from her hands, from her having held this case in the middle of her nerves.

Studying the case, the front bore an avant-garde painting of the bust of an asari. She had broad shoulders and a thick, strong neck, her face and crests twisted and distorted a bit in added femininity. When I opened the case, I found a CD inside, with a short track list printed over it.

An actual CD…

This had to have been hundreds of years old. She'd kept it in perfect condition, too.

Not quite believing that she paid attention to me this closely, I asked, "Liara…is this a _music_ album?"

"Yes, Commander, it is," replied Liara. "Back on Therum when you found me that day, I was not able to hear your music through your headphones. I could only assume that you would enjoy music that is evocative, thoughtful, atmospheric… This album has that sound, along with… Well…a bit more, too."

Whenever I was in the mood for it, I _did_ like listening to that kind of music: trip-hop, electronic songs.

How did she figure this out about me?

Without any hints.

Without _anything_ to go off of, except for my personality.

Liara sat down at her terminal. "Seeing as how computers these days won't read CDs anymore, I downloaded the digital album instead. We can listen to a song now if you would like."

"Yeah, thanks… Pick whichever one you think I'll like the most."

She already had her mouse hovered over one song in particular.

From the moment she clicked play, an otherworldly atmosphere overtook the room, bass booming in thoughtfulness. And then, an electronic sound, a woman's touch, subtle vulnerability in emotionality, and a romantic, sacred, heavenly obsession woven through the singer's angelic voice, through her lyrics.

So needy, and soothing, and loving, and passionate—provocative, sexual, all at the same time.

I stared off at nothing, listening to this, letting my eyes wander around, near, and over Liara's bed.

Liara stood up again, leaning over her desk like I did, right next to me.

She kept our shoulders and our sides pressed together, watching me in profile from her, not blinking.

Listening to this apex of sound, something deep in my mind and in my heart ascended, right toward her.

When it was over, Liara turned the volume down.

She kept the song on repeat, low enough for us to speak again, to hear each other.

Liara breathed her words close to my ear, "Are you satisfied, Shepard?"

Now I was the one who couldn't look at her—"More than satisfied. That was… _something else_. Where did you find this?"

"Back on Thessia, my homeworld," she told me. "It was the first thing I ever purchased with my own funds. I had listened to a sample of this song over the extranet. That was when I knew I wanted the album in my hands. I spent several days trying to track down a physical copy. In fact, when I finally found it, I remember my mother tried to take it away from me."

"Why would Benezia do that? It was your CD. You bought it with your own money."

"She wished to listen to the album herself, to see if it would have any negative influences on me…"

"I think I see where you're going with this," I noticed. Liara nodded, solemn. "I'm guessing since your mother was such an important figure, she must've been strict with you."

Liara recalled: "Yes, she and the rest of asari high society had great expectations of me. Benezia initially supported my curiosities with history and archaeology, back when I was much younger… However, as time went on, she expected me to fall out of my _phase_ with my research. I turned down the many non-scientific internships she would arrange for me. This caused tensions between us to flare."

"How bad was it?"

"It was manageable for a while. I found my own ways to not allow it to overwhelm me. But things grew worse once I declared that my undergraduate major would be history-related. My mother fought against this, demanding that I change to something involving philosophy or religion. She was an influential professor in both of these fields, so it made sense that I should follow in her footsteps."

I almost couldn't believe it. "You rebelled against her, then?"

"I suppose you could say that," accepted Liara. "I was torn for the longest, Shepard. She was my mother, after all. She had raised me, cared for me, and showed me such kindness. I wished to please her, to do what she wanted me to do. Yet I couldn't deny the irresistible pull of my research. I had to choose."

"Yeah, I can respect that. But, aside from your arguments about this, was your mother _always_ kind?"

Liara went blank.

She stared straight ahead at nothing, lost in her own head.

She seemed to remember something: the answer to my question.

Then, like a flickering light, she blinked once in a flinching pain, and then again as normal.

"Liara, hey," I called, nudging her. "You still with me?"

"Shepard! I… Yes, I am here. I'm sorry—could you please repeat the question?"

"I was only asking if your mother Benezia was usually nice with you," I rephrased. "You mentioned that she was strict. Strict enough to monitor the music you listened to. Sounded like she wanted to control your whole life, too. I get why the two of you don't talk anymore. I'm wondering if it was all bad."

Instead of going blank again, Liara held herself around her waist.

She shivered against me, as if cold, all while fighting to stay in the moment.

Worried now, I didn't want to take her out of this battle, or help win it for her.

I watched her, closely. Whenever she flinched, the movement felt _visceral_ to me. Like she did it as more than a nervous tic. Like she did it to stop herself, to hold something back.

"My mother…wanted me to be pure," recalled Liara at last, monotone. "She had a very sweet pet name for me. I was her _little wing_. In her eyes, I was not allowed to be anything else. Anything other than what _she_ wanted. For many years, I believed that our wishes overlapped well enough, and that there was nothing wrong. Then, I rebelled. Then, I went my own way. Then we stopped speaking."

"Was that only an illusion?" I asked. "How your wishes overlapped for a while."

"I think…yes. Yes, it was only that—an illusion."

"What did you really want? Deep down, I mean."

Liara had no real need to think about it, yet she took her time anyway, before revealing:

"I wanted my control, Shepard. I wanted to seize my own life, make my own way. Benezia tried to control everything about me, everything I did. We had our worst argument yet when she discovered how deeply I resented her. I do not quite remember how the argument started… All I _can_ recall is that she had caught me researching something that she did not approve of… Something that…had confirmed how confined I felt in life because of her. And then, she took her anger out on me."

Assuming the worst, I let the concerns sound through my voice, "Liara…don't tell me—"

"—oh, no!" Liara caught herself. "Commander, my mother never _abused_ me! I promise you, she did not lay a hand on me or anything of the sort. There is no need to be concerned. It was nothing like that. It is just…after the argument… We grew distant. I forgot the true reasons why. I cannot remember what I have forgotten. I never grasped the truth of why I couldn't set my resentment aside and forgive her."

I remembered something Kaidan had said, back on the Citadel when we first found Tali: "You know, not all wounds are physical."

Liara took those words to heart, falling deep into thought.

Again, I didn't want her to run away from this, or for me to fight her battles for her.

This was something she had to figure out on her own.

CD case in-hand, I stood up properly. "Hey, this seems like something you need to sort through by yourself. Don't let me get in your way. I should head back to my cabin."

"Certainly… Yes, yes of course. Thank you for stopping by, Shepard."

Despite everything, I felt such a strong instinct, a growing need to protect her anyway.

I couldn't do that. Not directly.

Still, I could at least… _try_ with her.

"I'll check on you tomorrow, Liara," I promised. "I do want us to talk more."

"Commander, there was something else I wanted us to do. Your visions from the beacon on Eden Prime—I wished to offer my aid, to help you make sense of things. However, as you have pointed out, now is not the best time… After I have cleared my head, do you think we could carry on once you return?"

"Sounds good to me. I could use the help. Thanks again for the music. I'll stop by around noon."

Liara gave me a rather absent smile. "Thank you, Shepard. I will see you then."

* * *

Back in my cabin, I bought the digital version of this album, listening to the whole thing on repeat for hours on-end. The kind of vulnerability here was one that I craved to know for myself: to sink my teeth into it, to devour it, to own it and twist it into another woman's unimaginable pleasure.

Unimaginable, because she might've been running away from it—out of fear, uncertainty.

Unimaginable, because I would know this woman so well as to pick up on her darkest needs—to make her want every single thing she'd spent so much time avoiding.

All of that made everything _so much_ _better._

I tried to play my video games to distract myself from all of this. None of it worked. I couldn't stop thinking about Liara, about how she managed to keep catching me off-guard, surprising me.

Obviously, Liara had that appeal for me with her demons.

From the moment we first met, I sensed it in her: the potential, from how much she held back, from how shy she was, how isolated she was, how naïve she _seemed_ to be about most things. Plus, she was…gorgeous, intelligent, kind and compassionate. That was what had kept my face heated way more than I wanted while I'd spent that time carrying her, making that impossible effort for her.

That was what had drawn me to my music choices that day, sensual as my sudden feelings for her.

That was what had me feeling this type of way about her, now, _still._

And unless I'd read her all wrong, she did like me, too.

I could have brought out more in her, showed Liara all about the things she kept under lock and key.

Something told me to _not_ go there with her.

Liara had her own quiet strength. She could handle plenty by herself. She'd gotten this far in her hundred-plus year life without anyone holding her hand. She could deal with her own problems.

It was just this one thing that seemed to run way too deep, even for her.

I didn't want to hurt her.

The last thing I wanted was to upset Liara somehow, to make her cry because of something _I_ did wrong.

I normally wouldn't give a fuck.

From this heat constantly bursting out of my chest, high-octane and unending, _I did._ I fucking cared.

So, I set my alarm for an hour before noon, and collapsed in bed. Powering down, I resigned myself to this pain in restraint. I reined myself in. I tightened these shackles, these chains around myself, locking them over me. I controlled my aggressiveness: this endless capacity I had to destroy someone's entire perception of herself, and to revel in her pain as she found her forbidden delights with me.

I had to keep this in-check.

I had to tame my own strength, my own power to completely ruin someone else, to devastate her.

_A hurricane, destined only to destroy._

Long ago, someone taught me that this was all I was.

I finally accepted her vindictive wisdom for Liara's sake, and fell asleep.

What felt like seconds later, I woke to my alarm, exhausted from my emotions running at full speed all throughout the night.

Mists of Liara's essence had fogged my head and spirited my dreams into the shape of her.

Ghosts of her voice, hazes of her breath over my lips, and the deceptive, thick pressure of her tongue against mine.

Whispers of her sighs, of her saying my name, quietly, and then louder, harder and more intense—before slipping back down, right in-time with the way I moved on top of her.

I rolled over underneath my heated sheets, gripping my head and groaning, pressurized with these false memories of Liara's body, of the way she fucking _needed_ me so much.

This infatuation had incinerated me overnight, leaving me still burning, cinders rising.

Still, there was a part of me that enjoyed—and needed—this change of pace.

I could finally stop myself from _nearly_ thinking of Ashley in the same ways, as distant and removed as she had been from me over this past month.

 _But, was_ this thing with Liara…only a distraction? I couldn't know. I couldn't know, so I kept running.

Another cold shower, and I made my way down to the mess hall to get something to eat.

Normally, I woke up much earlier. I would cook, heat up, or take what I wanted, and then bring it back to my quarters to eat in peace. I did this to avoid the usual traffic in the mess hall around this time of day. Ever since freeing up the _Normandy's_ budget a bit, we could afford some _actual_ food. I wanted to take advantage of this as much as I could. Sitting with company wasn't part of that.

We had docked the ship at a fuel station according to an earlier announcement from Joker, freeing the crew up to take some extended time off for breakfast.

Wrex, Tali, Garrus, and Kaidan sat at the tables in the mess hall, chatting with Joker as he made meals for everyone in the kitchen nearby. The way they all talked and laughed together didn't bother me. It was the way I felt like I was somewhere far away from the _Normandy_ right now, and their presence only reminded me of this weird out-of-body feeling of mine.

"'Morning, Commander!" greeted Joker, still setting ingredients out over the counters. "Wow, I don't think I've seen you in the mess for breakfast since… _Never!_ The heck are you doing up this late?"

"Hello to you, too, Joker," I deadpanned, heading to the fridge.

"Hey, wait a minute! Are you really just gonna grab something and go? Even though we're all here?"

"Yes," I said, browsing for something to heat up.

Wrex called from his seat, "C'mon, Shepard, why not sit with us? I'm actually gonna try your human food. Don't you wanna see how much I hate it?"

"Yeah, Commander, why not?" added Garrus. "We haven't had the chance to share a meal with you yet. We should spend some time together."

Tali wanted the same: "Yes, Shepard, we should! Joker's making dextro-friendly food for Garrus and me. You and everybody else can have _your_ food." She noticed my lingering reservations. "Please? You won't have to talk to us if you don't want to… It's about having you here with us, that's all."

"We miss your company, Commander," said Kaidan in earnest.

"What they said," affirmed Joker. "We're not gonna bite, Shepard… Come on!"

Liara's room _was_ close by. Was she awake yet?

"Fine," I accepted.

Joker cheered, "Sweet, awesome!"

"Just don't try to be cute, Joker," I warned. "I want something _normal_ to eat _._ Not that gourmet shit you burned last week. And whatever you make, put some seasoning in it. You know— _salt, pepper?"_

" _Pssh_ , yeah, yeah, I know! You're a picky eater. I got it. Go on and have a seat! I'll be done in a jiffy."

At the tables, I saw Garrus and Wrex sitting next to each other on one side, with Tali and Kaidan across from them. I made my way over there, not really sure where to sit. Tali and Kaidan were closer, but there were a bunch of empty chairs off to the side, too.

For some fucking reason, Kaidan stood up on my approach. He gave me a fumbling sort of smile, moving his hands as if he was about to pull out a chair for me.

The chair right next to Tali, where he had just been.

I glared at him.

I was _not_ in the mood to explain to him why this was a bad move.

Kaidan shrunk away from me, retreating a few seats away, and sat back down.

I took his old seat next to Tali anyway, pulling the chair out my damn self.

In the kitchen behind me, Joker cracked up laughing as he scrambled the raw eggs: battering, cackling.

Garrus coughed. "Rookie mistake."

"I'll say," agreed Wrex with a grin.

Tali put way too much thought into this: "Is it really that obvious to be a _rookie_ mistake? I mean… _is it?"_

"Uh, yes!" called Joker.

I sniped back, "Guys, seriously? We're not doing this!"

"Sorry, Shepard," shirked Tali.

"Whatever."

Garrus took the gigantic cue to change the subject: "Any idea where Liara is? She's not usually up this early. But, since most of us are here, I figured she might want to join."

"Oh, she's awake," said Tali. "I saw her leave the showers when I walked by about half an hour ago. She went back to her room afterward. I did invite her to breakfast, by the way. Said she wasn't hungry." She recalled something: "You know, I just realized the strangest thing. Liara never takes warm showers. There's no steam or anything coming from her stall whenever I run into her. Only cold water, it seems."

_Did she…?_

Joker nearly dropped his spatula, suppressing his coughs. "Whoa, whoa! Tali, what the hell?!"

"What?!" she shot back.

"I don't get it, either," confessed Garrus.

Wrex hummed in contemplation.

Kaidan slumped down in his seat, trying to disappear from the room.

I folded my arms and set my jaw, needing to mask this relentless energy jolting through my skin.

Tali huffed, "Okay, fine! Don't explain. I'll ask her about it later." Joker cringed, but otherwise left the issue alone. "Speaking of awkward topics, I was going to ask Kaidan about one earlier." She pretended to shout, "Since he's all the way over there now, I can't talk to him properly!"

Garrus asked, "What about?"

"Err, well—it's about Ashley."

Wrex remembered: "You mean how Alenko _insists_ we've got it all wrong about her?"

"Yes," confirmed Tali. "We never kicked her out of—" She censored herself, probably because of me. " _TRS._ I spoke to her privately. We had a long talk. I don't know, she actually sounded sincere. I'm willing to believe she doesn't secretly hate us, and that she's only hiding it to stay on the _Normandy_ …"

Joker wasn't convinced: "Then why'd Ash freak out when Shepard put her in the hot seat?"

"Right, that's what gets me. I think of that, and I'm back to feeling like she's lying to save herself."

Kaidan spoke up, "You've got it all wrong… There _is_ something else. She's not willing to discuss it yet."

Less accepting, Wrex asked, "Well, why the hell not? If it clears her name, she should explain!"

"It's… It's private. That's all I can say. She needs to sort this all out. Give her some time first. Please?"

Tali shrugged. "If what you say is true, then I can accept that. You can let her know."

"I _want_ to be on good terms with Ashley again," said Garrus. "She's a capable soldier, and before this whole thing, I never would have thought she had something like this in her. So, I'll wait, too."

"We'll see," allowed Wrex, putting on a front of not caring either way.

After breakfast, the others left with Joker to the helm, needing to talk about some other secret thing. I couldn't bring myself to mind how they spent their time between missions. They took care of building their team morale on their own, without me needing to go out of my way to keep it going for them.

It wasn't quite noon yet.

Unable to sit here and wait, I went back up to my cabin: to brush my teeth again, to brush my hair out again, to freshen up in general—again.

I took a long look at one of my spare bottles of aromatherapy sprays. I liked using these on my sheets and my casual clothes to get rid of the stale non-smell from the _Normandy_ , and to help me sleep _._

I considered giving this to Liara as a present, since she had already given me something.

Maybe she would like the smell: black chamomile. Soft, smart, and smooth. The same scent that I had on right now. Or maybe…I should have saved this for the one who was really on my mind, deep in my subconscious. Deeper than that, I imagined Ashley smelling me, enjoying this in her own obsessions.

I pushed down this hot, hot ember growing in my chest for her, unable to extinguish it; sprinting away from her, again.

* * *

Back in the mess hall, on my way to the med bay and to Liara's room, I again didn't have to worry about Dr. Chakwas. She sat at a table in the mess, alone, drinking from her coffee mug, and eating a light brunch. Her e-book reader sat over the surface as she read. Whatever it was, she was really into it. I figured she would probably head back to her room again once she was done eating. Without nearly as many active crew aboard, she had no serious need to stay glued to her desk in the med bay like before.

Thankfully, Dr. Chakwas didn't notice me walking by, as stiff and unprepared as I was.

Green next to Liara's door again.

I knocked, again.

Liara answered the door immediately.

Unlike before, she looked right at me this time.

Liara had already picked up some of my intensity, her eyes scanning me all over, studying me. She inhaled, once, taking in my scent with a subtlety I might not have noticed, had I not cared to spot this about her. With her pupils widening and her breaths quickening, she reminded herself to say something:

"Good day, Commander."

Throbbing from her acute attention on me, I asked, "Can I come in?"

She stepped aside, watching me walk in her room.

She studied my posture, the light movement in my shoulders, and the forced-military-lack-of-movement in my hips—all from only a few steps.

I felt my face heating up again as the door closed behind me.

Needing some space, I went to lean against her desk like before, arms folded down over my waist.

This language, trying to protect myself… _from what?_

Liara started the conversation, sounding light enough, "Did you enjoy your breakfast with the others?"

"Not exactly… I only stayed with them because they wouldn't take no for an answer."

She frowned, a bit pissed off. "Hmm."

I asked, "What? They didn't tell you?"

"No, they left that part out," said Liara, stepping a bit closer to me. "I figured you did not truly wish to be there. I assume you did not have much to talk about while you sat with them, either."

"Can't say I'm much of a social butterfly."

Liara smiled. "That is true."

"What about you? How are you doing? You know, from last night."

Then, she retreated into herself again. Quiet, cold breaths.

"Let's not discuss that now," evaded Liara. "It is not important in the grand scheme of things…"

Not believing her, I changed the subject anyway, "Then what _is_ important?"

"Your visions from the beacon on Eden Prime. Do you remember the offer I made, Shepard?"

"Yeah, you said you'd help me make sense of what I saw," I repeated back to her. "How, though?"

Liara fought her urge to stare down at my boots, to avoid my stare. "I could join my mind with yours, to perhaps piece together these images you witnessed. The melding process…it joins our nervous systems as one, allowing me to see what you sense."

All as just a casual thing, sure… "Okay, but how will you know what to look for?"

"I will see whatever is most pressing on your mind, Commander."

"The beacon wouldn't really be that _thing,_ Liara…"

Liara was so fucking innocent. "Of course it would be," she claimed. "You suffered a great deal when you interacted with the device, when those images flooded your senses. Your mind should have been utterly destroyed by the process! Instead, you persevered. That is quite remarkable." I still had a bad feeling about this. Plus, giving up my control like that…? "Shepard, you need not worry. Your strong personality may make things a bit difficult for me, but I will manage. Please, I only wish to help you."

If I outright refused, then she would've wanted to know _why_.

I doubted that she'd have pushed the issue if I told her no.

Still, my refusal would've let Liara wonder too much.

More than she should have.

"Do it, then," I allowed.

"Very well," said Liara, taking a shuddering breath. "I have never done this before… I promise that I will do my best." She stepped closer to me, closer, closest. "Close your eyes…" Having to follow her commands _and_ letting her in my head: it put me on-edge, bringing up an irrational hostility that color-coded my thoughts for me. "Try to relax, Commander. _Embrace eternity!"_

Black of her sight, red of mine:

Images from the Prothean beacon scratched in and out of existence, scattering and jumbling and screaming in a scarred howl of the ones who'd died in this blaze of destruction. Unclear, unreadable, nothing there made sense—not the fire of the sky, and not even the suffering and agony of the victims.

Underneath those screams, I felt Liara's efforts, picking up on all that I'd suppressed about her, _reeling_.

I couldn't see any of it myself.

I couldn't describe it, couldn't name what any of those thoughts were.

Only darkness crested over my mind's sight.

Liara had a full view of all that was there, of all that I had purposely suppressed out of my reach.

_That damned hurricane, right in the eye of the storm._

When she ended the melding, I had my head to myself again. But, this silence between us… This new view Liara had of me, how she stared at me in such shock—I couldn't stand it. I hated knowing that she knew this shit about me now. And so I scowled in this hatred, shaking my head; avoiding her silent stare.

"Commander, that was…"

The rising and falling of her chest, quickening: Liara had probably seen all the ways I wanted to make her mine. Forceful, strong, willful and without holding _anything_ back.

The rise and fall of her chest, faster: Liara had likely seen that hurricane of me. How it had spun out of her control and mine, destroying who she thought she was, and replacing that emptiness with the truth of how _hard_ she took it from me, screaming my name all the while.

Rise and fall of her chest: she breathed without breathing, eyes staring _through_ me at a distant horror.

Standing up, level with her now, I felt my heartbeats accelerating. Loss of control of the situation:

"Liara…? Hey! What's wrong?"

Picking up on my own growing panic, she raised her shaking hands to her face—

Like a bursting fountain of breathless air, Liara couldn't stop it anymore—

The scratch of her voice through her constant breaths, pitched higher and higher, quicker and quicker.

Breathing harder, and harder, nothing worked, nothing helped, and nothing calmed her.

Liara wouldn't stop shaking.

She gripped at her face to make it all stop, to no avail.

Her whole body raised and fell with her breathing, continual breathing, relentless breathing that couldn't, wouldn't fill her lungs with actual oxygen and keep it there.

The air spilled from her chest, back out again, only for her to breathe harder to catch it, failing, falling, like water slipping from her hands as her entire being rumbled beyond my sight.

"Liara, what's going on?!"

I grabbed her shoulders with my own shaking hands, trying and failing to hold her still.

"Why can't you breathe? What's wrong? Talk to me!"

Shaking her head, she dragged her hands down to her chest. Unable to push these palpitations down, all Liara could do was keep at this, louder and louder, worse and worse.

I felt like I was about to lose her, like I was about to kill her from what she saw.

"Shit, _shit!_ Liara, _fuck_ , calm down!"

Higher and higher, her pitched voice kept clawing at her breaths, _loudest._

I couldn't help her on my own.

I darted my eyes toward the door.

"Stay here!" I ordered, about to make a run for it. "I need to get Dr. Chakwas! Hold on!"

Holding at the doorframe as I tried to run outside, I stayed wedged between Liara's room and the med bay. Empty, no one there—Dr. Chakwas wasn't there, she wasn't there. That meant she was in her room. Her reading, her free time. I had to get to her room down the hall; I had to move from this place.

Liara forced her scream out for me in quickness and in dire need:

"Shepard, don't _leave me!"_

Limbs locked, my body stopped in place, like I'd collided against an impassable space.

Liara had overridden my own panic, my own knee-jerk bolting from the situation.

An anxiety attack…

I should have realized it sooner.

Retreating back into her room, I waited for the doors to shut closed again.

Standing in front of Liara as she hid away from me, even between her still-going panicking, breathing and breathing without breaths, I knew I couldn't be selfish with her.

Not now, not ever.

I wrapped my arms around Liara's shuddering waist, pulling her close to me.

She stiffened in shame first, trying to wriggle out of my hold. I wouldn't let her. I stayed still.

I let Liara lower her face to the smooth angle of my chest, not minding these wet specks from her eyes that had slipped down to my shirt. More warmth, wider spreading over the material, through to my skin underneath, hotter with her breathing.

Liara gripped me around my shoulders, hooking herself there, against me, to keep from falling into her own abyss.

I strengthened myself here as her anchor, as she needed.

"Hey, I'm here," I told her, calm and steady. "Stay with me, Liara." Slowing, steadying. "I'm sorry. I'm sorry…" She started to match my own breathing, finding her stability through mine. "I'm not going anywhere. You're safe with me."

And then, she was all right again.

She could finally breathe as normal, calming down.

This softness of her, of her presence and her light weight in my arms—I didn't want to let her go.

The undulating ridges of her hearing along the side of her head, underneath her crests—I knew she heard this struggle in my own breaths, no matter how hard I tried to suffocate it.

I had told myself to box this up and keep it away from her.

Now, that seemed so pointless. Or at least in the original way I'd imagined it.

I needed to find a new box, a new safe, a new lock and a new key to contain this with. The old ones had broken beyond repair. They splintered again, just to make a point, when Liara raised her head a bit, wiping her face.

For the time being, I could help her through this.

"You all right?" I asked.

Liara sniffled and nodded, reddening through her blue.

"When these things happen… As far as I know, you're not supposed to avoid whatever caused it."

"I know," she said with a hard voice.

" _Have you_ been avoiding it?"

Sniffling one last time, in such effort, Liara scowled at her last tears streaking down my neck.

"I _had been_ , yes," she replied, still unyielding.

Censoring myself, I suggested, "Do you mind giving me an idea of what it's about?"

Liara knew exactly what it was, but she chose to be vague: "Something I had repressed for many years."

"Something…?"

_Something she had forgotten._

_Seizing her control after living with her controlling mother._

_Caught researching this something that would've helped her find her own control._

"Shepard, you are wise enough to know what I mean. I don't wish to discuss it with you right now."

_And a traumatizing argument with Benezia that had caused the two of them to stop speaking altogether._

Liara stepped out of my hold.

With a closed fist, she pressed a button over her door controls to lock it, the red gleaming over where the green had been. She then went to sit down on her bed, next to the neat fold of her white comforter. She hunched over, hanging her head in her hands. Without a word, I felt the way she scolded herself, chastised herself over falling apart in front of me, and over everything else that had spilled out without her say-so.

Even after all that, and the tone she'd used with me, Liara still had her hands situated in a way so as to keep me in her view, in her periphery.

Editing the affront from my own tone, I asked her, "Do you wanna get some rest?"

Liara pierced my eyes with one look, like she'd learned to do from me.

Or maybe she hadn't learned it from me, and I was just the one who had brought this out.

I walked over to her.

Sitting down at Liara's side, I stayed close to her, the heat of her limbs against mine.

This open confinement of her room made me feel like we were out in the middle of nowhere, together. Together, locked in here because she wished it, and because I didn't have the nerve to leave her alone like this. Outside the _Normandy's_ walls and hull, we drifted across the stars, across nowhere, going nowhere, with all the time in the universe—for now.

Taking off her shoes, Liara crawled into bed properly. Moving over, nearer to the wall, she lay down on her side, facing away from me. She kept her head over her long pillow, perfectly halved to leave room. Then she pulled up her comforter right to her legs. She stopped there, like she expected something.

I twisted myself around to look down at her.

She twisted her neck around enough to look back at me.

Liara kept on piercing me with her expectations, twisting _me_.

"Yes, I do want to rest," she finally responded, hardened, still.

I let out a rigid breath, mouth welded shut.

Liara had made herself clear.

Clearer than I'd ever imagined she could have at this stage.

I leaned over to take off my boots, wishing I'd had some old-fashioned laces to busy myself with.

Settling my head down over my apparent half of her pillow, I lay down over my back, stiff as a board.

Liara faced herself fully away again. She shifted around a bit, making a point to move her comforter.

I slipped my legs under the fullness of the material.

Something about the comfort here made me think Liara had owned this thing for a long time.

Glancing at her head, the inflection point of the ends of her crests still faced me, rippling down to the back of her slender neck. Then, the whole curve of Liara's side swelled and surged as she shifted, again, wanting something else from me.

Getting the hint, I brought her comforter up over both of us, turning to face her as I did.

This light, breezy, gentle smell of _her,_ I breathed in over her pillow, and over her pale blue sheets. And again, closer and clearer when Liara let me pull her back against my front, fitting herself here against me. She shifted, and shifted, piecing herself against the puzzle of me, shorter than me as she was. She soon settled herself, angling her hips in the support of my bent legs, toward her, with her head fitting right beside the slope of my neck.

And how she reveled, quietly, with the softest of laughs as I breathed out this absolute pressure over the top of her head.

My hand draped over her waist, holding her here—I could have done more. _Could have._

Deeper breathing.

Liara had already started falling asleep in my arms.

So I emptied my thoughts as best as I could, letting myself rest with her.

Not a sound, not another soul around for miles, lightyears. Her own world, and Liara had pulled me right in without an order, without a single argument from me, taking me away from all that I couldn't face.


	5. Fearless

" _Brave" by Jhené Aiko / "Beyond the Stars" by Apocalyptica (first ~5 mins only) / "What the Future Holds" from Mass Effect 2: Atmospheric_

 **V.** Fearless

_(Shepard)_

The endless haze of this day so far clouded over me, perspiration over my skin prickling me awake.

Locked away from the rest of the ship, this breezy scent from Liara's pillow and sheets greeted me awake. The same from the top of her crests met my nose as I inhaled, finding her still in my arms. This continuance, unexpected, made me take a sharper breath than I'd intended. The swell of my chest pressed a bit tighter against the back of Liara's shoulders. Feeling me through her sleep, she shifted, once, settling closer against me; and then she sighed, soft and satisfied, before relaxing again.

Liara was here with me.

She was still here, asleep against me, on her side with me behind her, just like we'd fallen asleep earlier.

She still had her peace in her sleep, uninterrupted.

Liara leaned back more against me, using my whole body to cushion herself.

I held back my reactions this time.

There was no fucking way I could fall back asleep like this.

_What time was it, anyway?_

Checking my omni-tool was impossible—I needed my right hand to activate it, but I couldn't _move_ without waking Liara up. We had moved a bit, with my right arm under the open slope of her neck, the leanness of my bicep bolstering her sleep. And I couldn't turn around to check the time on Liara's terminal, either—not without waking her up.

Throbbing between my legs again, wanting Liara again, I had no escape from this agony.

None whatsoever…not until Liara shifted again, like she sensed my silent suffering. I stayed completely still. I refused to breathe too hard, to avoid any blame for pulling her out of her sleep. She needed her rest, after all. After everything that had happened, and everything I could yet to imagine, I accepted that she needed some time to sort through her own problems. Whether she let me in and allowed me to be there for her, well—that was another story.

I hoped that she would.

All the same, I wouldn't have been surprised if she kept her distance after this, refusing to trust me.

The more I solidified this feeling inside of me, the more Liara seemed to react to me. Like she knew, somehow. Like she had picked up on the sway of my emotions. Like she had learned to gauge me and read me without a word, all from that single instance of joining her mind, her nervous system with mine.

Attached to me, enough for this bond to form between us.

Inhibitions eroding, eroding away, Liara kept moving against me a little at a time. She let out such a low whine at the steam of my breaths against her. This comforter over us had turned the space between us and around us into a damned oven. And then, she reached back for my left hand, pressing my palm firmer over her waist: guiding, inviting.

She almost made me pass out when she started grinding her ass against my navel, my thighs.

I growled to stay conscious— _"Liara…"_

She wouldn't stop.

She wouldn't…

Needing this friction, Liara kept pushing at me in discovery, fitting herself tighter and tighter against me. Just being on me like this wasn't enough for her—she had to press right down on me where she knew I would feel it the most, where she knew it would provoke me to respond:

"Why now…?"

Easing my waist away from her backside, I had already started panting against her, painting over her skin the pain I put myself through in restraint. In protest, Liara had the nerve to keep whining, moaning, like she didn't know _exactly_ what she did to me. I didn't want her to protest; I didn't want her to _not_ get her way. I wanted to give her everything she wanted. I wanted to make her feel wanted, maybe for the first time in her life, and without scaring her again.

This irresistible pull, undenied: pulling at my body, pulling at my head to pull me down, bringing my lips to the bare of her neck above her collar. This first for me, of easing my entire essence over her, against her skin, into the tracts of her breathing harder, higher, and without panic this time. Unbridled, Liara moved with this motion of me, crying out her breathy ecstasy—exactly how I'd imagined before.

I held Liara close with a tenderness I never knew I had, needing to keep learning this near-aquatic taste of her, of wind and water both. Just as compelling, just as fluid, Liara folded herself into my body as she let me know her here. And, as soon as I brought my hand up to her collar, she wanted the whole thing off. She tugged at the flap of the fabric, impatience of her slender hands fumbling over my patient one, her fingers lacing atop mine and pulling, pulling down.

Liara stopped short of taking her top off.

She left it on, primed to remove, with her hands knitted between the freed flaps, still feeling me.

She used her backside to bump at me, pushing away from her and over onto my back. I let myself roll with the motion. A little thrown from her suddenness, I reminded myself to keep this same energy with her, and to not escalate anything unless I knew for damn sure that she wanted me to.

Again, like before, Liara chose to validate me for my choices with her. Arms folded over her front to keep her top on, she sat up in bed. Only then did I realize that my arm had fallen asleep—my arm that she had slept over, using it as a second pillow. Numbness and tingling distracted me from the way Liara turned to observe me, making her mind up about something. I groaned from the ridiculous effort of shifting my arm into another position to wake it up, on top of everything else that had happened so far.

"You surprise me, Commander," mused Liara, seeming to make a point of using my rank. "I had no idea you could be this gentle…let alone want me like this in the first place." She admired the way my hair had fanned out behind me, under me. "Should I let this go any further, would I be allowed to—?"

She kept gazing at the winding spill of my hair behind me, so…

"You can touch my hair however much you want, Liara," I told her, smirking. "I'm just amused that you're asking at all."

Liara avoided my eyes. "Well, I did some light reading on your culture…"

" _Light reading_ , huh?" I asked, smirking more. She clammed up, then, not knowing what else to say. "You don't have to play coy with me. Not about this." Kneading out the last of this discomfort from my arm, I knew without a doubt that Liara had done her research on me— _all of me_. I thought against teasing her over it, grateful that she cared this much. "You're incredibly sweet, you know. Pretty much the opposite of me. At the same time, when you're angry, you'll let me know without a doubt… I like that about you."

"Do you, Shepard…?"

"Yeah, I mean it. I like you, Liara. More than I can handle at times… I _really_ …care about you."

Liara took my words to heart, letting them fill her. That filling filled an empty, bottomless void in her that had gone unfulfilled for far too long. In that limitlessness inside of her, I understood what this meant. No matter how many times I could say the words, or act on my feelings, Liara would never be _satisfied_ —done, full, or completely validated, enough to move on from me for greener pastures.

There was something about the way my words and my actions so far had stuck to her, both infinitesimal in that void and quintessential to her own feelings about herself.

In this single act of acceptance, Liara had taken the idea of _needing me_ to the next level.

Far beyond anything that I had ever thought possible.

But in her acceptance, I still sensed that lingering mingle of hurt, anger, disbelief, shock, and anxiety.

Those subconscious reasons for her repressions: they had yet to agree with me being here with them, sharing this same psychological space, and affecting Liara's emotions to this degree, this extreme.

That edge in her voice again: "As damaged as I am, all things considered, I doubt you would be put off by my problems. You are remarkably strong-willed, Commander. I do not believe that I could ever chase you away with…this _thing_ about me. Perhaps not directly. Know that I take comfort in that."

She knew herself best—I was in no place to challenge her on it. "Then what _are_ you worried about?"

Liara kept one arm over her front, still keeping her clothes in place, using her other hand to guide her around. She settled her legs at either side of me, mounting my waist in hesitation. This tightness of her clothes kept me from feeling her as much as I wanted to, but for her, for this first time, Liara was more than pleased by how I felt as her foundation. The more I growled over the _surprise_ of how wet she was over me, the more she lessened her hesitations, settling in with the relative lightness of her full weight.

Letting my head lull to one side, I caught the idling screensaver over Liara's terminal on her desk, displaying the time in Earth hours, the same as we followed on the ship: _15:34_ , or _3:34p.m._

Pulling my attention back to her, Liara leaned over my body with hers. This lock of her arms kept her chest from settling over mine. This purposeful distance she kept between our faces helped me zero in on her eyes, her in-depth study of me.

Yet she still said something to contradict that:

"I fear that I want you in ways that you may disagree with. You might become uncomfortable with me."

Not buying it at all, I asked, "Liara, you've never slept with anyone, never been in a relationship—right?"

"Yes, that's correct," she confirmed. "However, you must also understand that this, what we are doing—I am not asking for a relationship with you. I don't expect us to have one for quite some time, if at all."

"Wait, _what?"_

Liara wasn't in the mood to repeat herself. "You heard me, Shepard."

I wasn't expecting her to be my girlfriend today, _now_ , just like that.

But the way she needed to hear me say that I liked her, that I cared about her…what was that about?

"That is the conundrum I'm dealing with," reinforced Liara. "Though I did say that my issues would not put you off, this adds another layer of complexity to things." One hand she used to run her nails through my hair, finding the fineness of my falls to her liking, to her silent fixation. "I won't ask you to wait for me, Commander. I shouldn't. I can't… There are many others who want you, who are available for you."

This near-nausea in the pit of my stomach.

This sweat coating over my palms.

This darkening of my sight, of everything beyond the blue borders of her skin, her face, her neck.

 _This feeling_ , like I was about to lose her again—like I was about to lose something, someone I never had.

What the hell was wrong with me? And why was _she_ the one to bring this out?

"Hang on a minute," I said, needing to catch myself here. "It's clear that things between us are too involved already for us to just date. What do you think a relationship is supposed to be, exactly?"

"A monogamous commitment to share our lives together in totality."

"Liara, that's marriage," I distinguished.

"Shepard, there is no need to be pedantic," she insisted. "What is the point you are trying to make?"

"Listen, I'm not fighting against…your decision. I respect what you need to do on your own. I'm only asking—if we both want each other this badly, and we're not seeing other people, then what's to stop us from keeping this going? You know, find some kind of arrangement."

Liara looked a bit guilty, like she had considered this already. "I _do_ want that…"

"Then why not say it? Why not ask me for that instead?"

"Because…I'm afraid that I will act as though we are in a relationship anyway, even though we are not."

I remembered: "Is this one of those things that's supposed to make me uncomfortable?"

" _One of many,_ yes," replied Liara, irritation growing—with herself more so than with me.

"Then lay it on me," I requested, glad that we had gotten somewhere. "What's the rest?"

"If I told you everything, we would be here for days!"

I already had my answer now, but still—"Give me what's relevant. What you're most afraid of. Besides, even if we _were_ here for days, it wouldn't matter! I'm here, listening to you. We're talking. We're working this out, aren't we?"

"Shepard, we have a mission!" she choked back. "You can't say these things when they aren't true…"

The way Liara looked at me in desperation, like she _wanted_ those things to be true—it took me back.

Now wasn't the time to tell her how much she had already warped my priorities.

Instead, I brought my hands to Liara's back: stroking, pacifying. She let me guide her head down, over my shoulder. She inhaled the smell of my hair, of how it had spread to her pillow under my head and her sheets underneath me. She breathed in more, too, of the black chamomile still lingering through the navy blue of my shirt, finding her calm there, from my touch and from my words.

"Liara, babe," I soothed. "You are an exception for me in so many ways. I don't wanna lose what we have. I'll go with whatever works best for you. All right?"

She nodded over the crook of my neck, her body releasing this tension bit by bit.

"But, I'm not letting you off the hook completely. I still need to know at least some details. Talk to me."

Liara curled into me more, whispering right in my ear: "I need to own you, Commander."

Again, she made such a _point_ of using my rank, getting at something deep in me:

As deeply as her voice reached up and wound around the thousands upon thousands of thoughts that now crowded and compounded in me, all as a lifeboat in these deep waters of this unknown with her.

"What…what do you mean?"

"I crave you in ways that I never thought possible. I can't stand the thought of anyone taking you from me. I could not bear the reality of someone else wanting you, too. I know that it is highly unfair. Especially considering the limitations I have set in place. I simply need space to sort out my longstanding issues. Space that I would not remember to keep while in a formal relationship with you."

Just a bit more—"Go on."

"Please, don't misunderstand. I have no intentions of seeing anyone else. My reasons for this wouldn't make much sense right now. It is also about giving ourselves time to grow into each other. Time, or something else. I am not entirely sure… I expected you to shut down any and all discussion about this."

Normally, I would have… "What about guarantees? What am I looking at here?"

"I will not leave your side, Shepard… Whether you will do the same for me, that remains your choice to make. You may grow impatient with me. You may despise me for needing you as hard and as deeply as I do. We have only known each other for a little over one month, and yet you have such an innate understanding of all that I have wanted in another person—repressed though it may have been…"

"I only have a few more questions, then," I prefaced. "I need you to be really honest with me. Please."

Accepting the inevitable: "Okay…"

"Would you ever be…passive-aggressive with me?"

Liara couldn't lie, "Yes."

Fuck, I hated that.

"Would you expect me to read your mind at times?"

" _All_ of the time," she said, emboldened by my lack of outward judgment.

I hated that, too.

"Would you act possessive if someone else came around, regardless if I liked them or not?"

"Absolutely, Commander."

I hated that more!

"You say you need to own me. Does that mean you want to keep tabs on me, control me?"

"Shepard… _yes,_ I want that. I need it from you. _I need you!_ I need to cling to you. I need you to take care of me when I need it and leave me alone when I need my space. I need you to ease me into your world. I need to know everything about you, down to the last intimate detail. I need to keep you with me and care for you and be there for you no matter what, no matter how much time passes and no matter who or what may come between us… I need to be your everything even if you won't be mine."

…

"So…you want it both ways," I summarized, thrown by how much she turned me on—this warm feeling in my stomach where that nausea had been earlier, comforted by her honesty, her own fearlessness.

Anyone else would have shut down the conversation by now, convinced of my unavoidable rejection.

Anyone else would have run off by now, letting their shame overrule the possibility of us finding a compromise together.

Liara didn't seem to like that expression, but she had no say in the matter. "I suppose I do…"

Possessed, obsessed: "Okay, Liara. Okay."

"Okay?" asked Liara, startled. _"Okay?!"_ She moved a bit to regard me properly, uncertain if she should be shocked or overjoyed. "Commander, _how_ is this okay? How is _anything_ of what I said indicative of a normal, stable, and equitable arrangement?! Everything that I want, everything that I need with you, it's insane! How can you tell me…that _any of this_ is okay?"

"Babe, you saw what's in my head," I reminded her, gently. "My question is, how are you surprised?"

Liara curled back into me again, hiding. "I only saw the…the more physical aspects. The roughness, the depravity of the things you wish to do to me. But, then again—" She knew. "Oh… Shepard, I…"

"Changes your perspective, doesn't it?"

"Yes…"

This shift in her breathing: I could tell Liara was overwhelmed again.

"Think about it some more," I offered, rubbing her back. Liara nodded. "Have you eaten at all today?"

"No… I should."

"Want me to make you something?"

Liara smiled against my shoulder. "I'd like that—another time," she deflected. "Commander, would you mind giving me an hour or so to recharge? I know what I said about my needs, and now I am sending you away… I'm trying not to overwhelm you, too. Besides, I…think I need another shower."

I laughed. "Yeah, that's fine. I'll head up to my room. Email me when you want me to come back down."

"I will," she promised, sounding a bit preoccupied. "Thank you for having this talk with me, Shepard. You have been very flexible with me, very understanding. When you come back, I should have a better handle on things, though I expect my moodiness will return. Please forgive me in advance."

* * *

Eating lunch in my cabin while taking care of work at my terminal: filling requisitions orders per Tali down in Engineering, responding to Garrus' concerns about the Mako's maneuverability, and, as a courtesy, updating Captain Anderson on our current plans to take out the geth on Feros tomorrow.

Taking a warm shower afterward: putting this black chamomile body wash to use, since I knew Liara enjoyed the smell on me.

Lounging on my couch in peace.

I gave Liara my personal email address, and she gave me hers. We didn't have to worry about mixing up our private messages to each other with work-related ones. And now, I waited to hear back from her without really waiting. I enjoyed passing this time, staring up at the ceiling of my room.

Not a single worry or fear. Nothing pressing over my mind. No what-ifs, no hang-ups.

Listening to the vague, silent humming of the _Normandy_ as we drifted on and on, I almost couldn't believe my luck.

Liara was a rare type of person. She cared about her passions so much, often to the point of shame and embarrassment for her. But once push came to shove, she was tough enough to not hold back—even with someone like me, someone who could have judged her and hurt her and thought less of her. I felt that quiet strength of hers here with me, separated as we were at the moment. That quality about her comforted me even while she wasn't here. That brand of her independence kept me from thinking that she was weak, or incapable, or someone who needed me to save her.

I was so used to people keeping their flaws hidden for my sake. I was so used to their excuses of not wanting to turn me off or disappoint me—like how Liara had initially tried to justify herself. By the time I did learn who they really were, it was too late, because I felt like they had lied to me. I hated when people tailored themselves to protect my delicate sensibilities—or for their own self-preservation, in keeping me with them under false pretenses—only to get upset and cry foul when I found out the truth and wanted nothing more to do with them.

It took some prodding at first, sure. Ultimately, Liara had the courage to be straight-up with me.

Maybe it had something to do with the asari: how they took the _long view_ with things, making decisions that weren't necessarily beneficial in the short-term, but would be better in the long-term.

In the short-term, she had definitely taken a risk by being this open with me.

But in the long-term, _and_ _now_ , I respected her more for being real with me like this.

An arrangement, a relationship, friends with benefits—the label didn't matter to me.

As long as I could keep getting to know her this deeply, that was all I cared about.

I wasn't worried about losing Liara to this mission, either. I trusted myself enough to cover her when she needed it. If I did need her help for some reason…well, I was so used to looking out for my own back, it would take me some time to get used to the idea of Liara having mine—and succeeding.

That thought extended to me _actually_ trusting the rest of our squad, too.

 _Possibly_ —later on…

An hour and a half had somehow passed already, just like that— _17:28_ , or _5:28pm_.

_From: Liara – I miss you._

_Shepard,_

_If you are not busy, I would like it if you returned to my room now._

_I have had the chance to make up my mind on how to proceed with you._

_Do you mind allowing me to set the pace between us? For years, I led myself to believe that I was not the type of person to take the initiative. This was only half-true. I recently learned that I am prone to switching. I hope that this will not be an issue for you._

_-Liara_

.

_To: Liara – Re: I miss you._

_Liara,_

_Set the pace however you want._

_Somehow I'm not surprised that you're a switch. This is mostly new for me. I'm used to being dominant. But, I'm willing to go with whatever you're most comfortable with. I want to please you. Always._

_I'll be right down to see you._

_-Shepard_

* * *

Once again, Dr. Chakwas was not in the med bay.

For the time being, I didn't have to worry about dodging her possible questions: why I kept visiting Liara so often, if I gave this same treatment to the rest of the crew, or if I just needed medical attention.

Those books of hers had saved me a lot of headaches.

Still, I couldn't rely on them to save me all the time.

I'd have to suggest to Liara that she come up to my room from now on.

Red glowing over her door controls.

Locked.

I went ahead and knocked, giving her a little longer than usual to answer; not minding at all. I only wondered if this change was some kind of sign, or an omen of things to come.

When Liara answered the door, she wasted no time in stepping aside.

I walked in, taking curious note of the plain, white sweatshirt she wore, and her tight black pants.

Once she finished locking the door back, I pulled her in for a hug. Liara let herself smile over my shoulder, holding me back. Obviously, this was nothing like me. She had such a knack for bringing out this side of me. This side that I'd kept hidden for a long time, whether it was to avoid showing weakness, or to keep my pride.

I saw no point in doing that with Liara. Not while we were alone.

I asked her, "You feeling better?"

Liara hummed out her uncertainty. "More or less…"

"Did you get anything to eat, at least?"

"My appetite has mysteriously vanished," she explained, pulling away to sit down over her bed. "I did not think it wise to push things. I'll try to eat later."

"Isn't that kind of—extreme? Not eating at all for this whole day so far?"

Liara educated me: "We asari typically only need to eat once or twice per day. You may find it strange. When I am in this mood, it is not unusual for me to forego eating for this long. You needn't worry."

"Must be nice," I said, sitting down next to her. "Needing to eat three times a day or more wastes a lot of time for me. I wish I didn't have to sleep at all, either. I could get a lot more done."

"Yes, I'm sure you could."

Such suggestiveness in Liara's voice, just before she crawled into bed, again on the far side, behind me.

But, she made a point of facing me this time, attentive in the way she looked me over.

I figured maybe she wanted to talk some more—continue from where we left off earlier. I could see her asking about my past, about the people I was once involved with. Either that, or she had questions about my life before the military…

"Commander, won't you relax with me in bed?"

Leaning down to remove my boots again, I realized the truth, caught so in the inflection of her voice:

Liara already knew all of those things about me.

She had done her _light reading_ on anything she could find with my name next to it. And probably, not only that—not just things that had to do with me directly. Unlike every other non-human I'd met, Liara had at least some idea of the etiquette with my hair. She had been the one to alert me about Pressly's bullshit from weeks ago, as if she knew that I would not only understand, but that I'd also take her side.

Liara had gone digging into my history: a full-on expedition down to the roots of the blood in my veins.

Sounds of my shirt shifting over her sheets, and I lay back down, face-up.

Glancing over at Liara watching me, I needed to take stock of this. I wrapped my hands over my waist, feeling like I was in a therapist's chair or something. I eased my gaze up to the eternal blue of the ceiling, lit up by the light of Liara's monitor. I couldn't hear the ambient sounds of the _Normandy_ anymore. Not with this exacting, concentrating, obsessing over me, taking over the rest of my senses.

I felt like she could have stared at me like this forever.

I felt the rush between my legs, novel and foreign, taking my mind to a place I'd never been before.

"Shepard," spoke Liara, her dark mood returning. "You are difficult to read sometimes. I also believe you'd like to keep things this way. Don't you? If so, perhaps I shouldn't complain."

"Old habits," I told her, not recognizing my own voice. "If it bothers you…what do you want me to do?"

"You're allowing _me_ to decide?"

"Well… _yeah_."

"Hmm, I'll think it over," promised Liara, reaching for my interlaced hands. "You fascinate me greatly, Commander. I am sure I've made this more than obvious to you." Taking hold of my hand closest to her, she let out a low, pleased sound. "Incredibly soft. I assumed your bare hand against mine would feel harder, somehow. All that time you spend sniping." Softness of her own, Liara smoothed her thumb over the pads of my fingers, keeping my hand propped over hers. "As always with you, looks can be deceiving. Though there is nothing at all deceptive about your beauty. I could gaze at you for hours…"

"Could you? I mean, you wouldn't get bored?"

Liara brought the backs of my knuckles to her lips. " _Boredom_ isn't a concept that could ever apply to you," she complimented. "From the moment I first saw you, Shepard, _I knew_. And the way you sacrificed for me, a complete stranger to you at the time… It speaks to your carefully-hidden nobility. You are a protector at heart. I adore that about you very much." She hesitated. "Even though it frustrates me that I am unable to be with you fully, I'm nonetheless grateful that you're here. In time, I hope that I will have sorted through my issues…"

I reminded her: "If you wanna talk, or if you need help sorting through anything…I'm here, you know."

Sensuality of her smile from behind my hand, and then Liara leaned into me more. Subtle in her movements, she settled herself back on top of me, exactly as before, with the bends of her limber legs pressing tighter against my waist. On instinct, I held her thighs, one hand on the other. Liara let me hear her approval; she made me feel it, in the way she pressed herself down over me, harder. This telling slipping from underneath the tight stretch of her black fabric spoke all.

"Commander," said Liara, pushing down on my hands with hers. "I think, right now… What would help, is seeing how well you are able to read _me_." She pulled my hands up, up to the hem of her sweatshirt, her nails and fingertips mixing with the sweat over my palms. "We don't need to speak. I don't want you to take the easy way out by asking questions. I want to watch you learn me. Everything about me. Well—" She used my hands to hike up her shirt, bare blue of her waist inviting. " _Almost_ everything."

Not thinking anymore, I held onto the slimness of her waist, smoothing up and up. Steadily, Liara used the excuse to lift her sweatshirt on her own. Nothing on underneath—except for the tight winding of her bra. She took her time lifting up her shirt any higher than that, savoring this trance in my eyes.

Needing to clarify, I forced my voice to work, "I'm not allowed…to ask you _anything?"_

"No, you can't ask me anything," retorted Liara. "Not even that. Not now."

"You answered me anyway."

"Shepard, you shouldn't forget your promises to me. Do as I said."

 _I shouldn't have forgotten_.

I stopped while I was ahead.

Liara rewarded me for my restraint, taking her shirt off at last.

She leaned down, into me and over me, purposely blocking the rest of my view of her.

Blind and groping without hurting her, I locked the cinch of Liara's waist in my grip, figuring her out and learning her, like she fucking told me to do. I bucked at her with my waist, getting back at her in the best way. Every flex of her muscles over her back, long lines pulsing with her pushing down on me, I learned to memorize. Every escalation of her pleased panic—contained—I gave her more of the same thing.

Tangling her arms through my hair, Liara held onto the back of my head for support.

If I didn't have such a tight grip around her, I knew—she was afraid she would fall off of me.

The way she panted and screamed made it too obvious. The way she squeezed at me with her thighs gave me other obvious clues. The way she clung to me in this novelty of her own: more than enough permission to take this further, but not too much.

Ever with a goal in mind, I slowed down.

"Breathe, Liara," I whispered, hard-edged in this heat underneath her. " _I need you_ …to fucking breathe."

Liara burrowed her head against my neck, my shoulder, blowing out her breaths over my chest.

I smoothed my hand up her spine, up the back of her neck, holding her head closer to me. My other hand, I kept over her hips, guiding. Slowed, simmering and with purpose, I let Liara keep feeling me between her legs. Grinding at this singular pace, reaching up against her, over her, stroking her with this part of me alone. I used our clothes to my advantage for more friction. I found a new endurance to give to her, all from the way her whole body quavered when I put just the right amount of pressure.

Rhythmic motions, learning her in patience.

Impatience masked with care: I needed to get her off—needed to show her how I could make her feel.

Liara finally relaxed the vice-like grip of her thighs around me. She spread her legs wider in her permission for me to take her just like this, in needing more. All the while, I found my own sick amusement in being the first to fuck her, however limited this was.

Her enlightenment shined so bright through the light, loudness she let out, so radiant.

Her own impatience started to brim, Liara's psyche warping and her addiction seeping in.

Once she started grinding back against me, fraught for more, I knew I had her.

" _Please_ , Shepard," she begged, exhilarating me. "You're holding back. Stop—stop holding back…"

"Hmm, what makes you think I'm holding back? Why would I _ever_ do that?"

Liara growled in exasperation. " _You already know—!"_

Cupping my hand in firmness, I slapped her ass, once, and held on with a wider grab—enough to make Liara scream in want, jumping in-place a bit, enough to make me grin over her suffering.

"No, I _don't_ know," I lied, delighting in her indecision:

She couldn't grind against me harder _while_ curling her ass up higher, needing to get fucked and spanked by me at the same damned time. She couldn't order me around anymore. She couldn't take the highs I gave her and the frustrations. She couldn't deal with me prolonging this.

"Tell me, babe," I demanded. "Do you ever masturbate? Ever touch yourself at all?" Liara squeaked and squirmed in my hold. I grabbed her, _harder_ —"Don't lie to me, now. I need to know this about you."

"I tried to," she admitted, hitching as I hiked her higher. "I tried! It wasn't… Years ago—I couldn't."

"You couldn't _what?"_

Liara whined my name over and over, like that would make me stop.

"What, you won't tell me? Is it _really_ so embarrassing that you couldn't get yourself off?"

Jacking at her, I drilled right at the source of Liara's humiliation—that she needed me to be her first, her first everything, to take her and to break her and to make her absolutely mine. Unrestrained in her reactions, she let go, getting there, _getting there,_ not caring how loud she was. I pushed her more, this chaotic, smacking beat of her drenched against me, thicker and thicker.

Liara grabbed at the wall for more support, needing me to keep tearing her out of control.

One last switch.

Pulling at her, at everything I could reach of her, I latched my lips over her neck, tightening. I could have kept talking to her. I could have kept humiliating her. I shifted that energy to this last affirmation instead. Something a bit gentler, contradicting the way I ripped and tore at her with our clothes still on and in the way. Something that was more thoughtful, letting her feel the echo of my groaning through her neck, her skin and her bones.

I pulled her arm back down to me, entreating—"Liara, _please_ …"

This emotional switch from me switched at Liara, switching all of her language to my name and my rank, both, interchangeable; overpowering her for such long seconds as she arched over me, into me; leaving her shaking and raw on top of me.

Thrown by how divine she sounded, I couldn't think, couldn't feel my own body here anymore.

I still felt Liara, still felt her breathing over me, collapsing into me in slow motion.

This mild sheen of sweat over her neck coated my lips.

Quietly, Liara breathed harder with my tastes here, as if about to start up again, only to calm down.

Soft sighs of her awareness: Liara relaxed on top of me, holding me tighter to compensate. I was too weak to do the same. Weakened by the way she'd given into me. Weakened by the way she continued to do it now. Weakened by how Liara settled her lips over my forehead, breathing in my dazed state. All I could do was stroke her back a bit, my hand getting used to her bra strap, this perfect tightness.

This endless view of Liara's neck, her shoulder, and the slope of her cleavage: she had me cradled here now, warming and warming.

"Shepard…you are absolutely perfect."

And her voice was more than perfect, setting me adrift across the wide open seas of her.

Absolute peace.

_Subspace._

So far-removed.

But still here, fully aware of the way Liara moved, lying down next to me. She rested her head over my chest, listening: my slowed breathing, beating. She probably felt the same. She did, yet she waited for my own space to pass, lucid enough to monitor me.

Knowing that Liara wanted something else, I made myself snap out of this way early.

When she gazed up at me, she found my own lucidity and smiled.

"Are you with me again, Commander?"

"Yeah… Yeah, I'm fine."

Liara moved over on her back, tugging at me. "Come here," she requested. "Please, come."

Disoriented, I did my best to oblige her. I felt blind, almost. Blind, even though I could see Liara just fine, the way she lay down, spreading her legs; inviting me over and on top of her. Heart picking back up to please her, I did as she wanted. I had to take my time, though, otherwise…I'd get ahead of myself.

I figured she only wanted to hold me like this.

Nothing more.

Fitting myself on top of Liara like this, her legs hugging either side of me, I kept myself propped up a bit above her. Not wanting to fall over her or into her, I needed a bit of distance. I needed to look at her, to understand the way she could regard me with such an equal balance of dark lust and the fresh, ripe, early bloom of something far more profound.

Liara indulged herself in this cascade of my hair. The way it all came down at once as a rush of colors, angling my sight, she couldn't get enough of.

Stirred by me, she pressed herself against me, soaking wet through this fabric.

"I need you—so much," breathed Liara, pulling me so much closer than I'd ever been to anyone, anyone at all. "I don't want you to let me go tonight." Her voice resounded in my head, through my spirit, ethereal and erotic: "Give it to me again. _Please, Shepard…_ Please, once more."

Entranced and entrenched as I was in her, I was sober enough to realize—

We had done things completely out of order.

"Whatever you want, Liara… I'll give it to you."

Pulling away just enough, I crossed my arms over my front, my crossed hands grabbing at the bottom of my casual uniform shirt. I pulled my shirt up and off, leaving only my sports bra on; Liara's breaths of surprise sounded in-sync with the shifts of fabric over my skin. I tossed my shirt somewhere behind me; Liara shuddered underneath me at this sensory overload for her, of the sweep of my hair flowing down my neck and bare shoulders, down the boyish, toned sculpt of my biceps and forearms.

I caught Liara's shuddering with my lips over hers, open-mouthed and rolling. Startled, she recoiled her head farther back into her pillow, moaning into my mouth all the same. Thicker lips of mine outlined hers entirely, enveloping, practically unfair. This imbalance brought back this same, now-familiar warmth in my stomach, rising up to my chest, since I knew she felt this for me, too, if not more.

False restraint: Liara held her hands to my shoulders, as if she meant to push back, but never did.

This same shaking in her wrists, I spotted through her eyes wide open.

The vague light from her terminal's screensaver reached us over here, enough to see.

Unsmiling as if unfeeling, these old habits of mine did razor through Liara's fearful blues vibrant in shine.

She knew what to feel, what to believe. Especially once I couldn't help myself anymore, hooking the bends of my knees underneath her thighs, exposing her more. Liara opened herself more, and more, letting me bring this rhythm right back, over her front, on top of her this time, practically never-ending. So much so, she was brave enough to keep her eyes to mine the whole time.

Liara challenged me in submission to not look away from her, to not break my lips over hers, not once—not even when she needed to break, when I broke her, broke her in, keeping her wanting more.

And we kept going like this.

Going and going, non-stop for hours, hours and hours.

 _I kept going_ for Liara, breaking wide open the expanse of her horizons. I got her off again and again, keeping up with her insatiable hormonal energy for me to keep taking her. Hard, so hard at times, ramming her hips into the mattress, ramming the bed in near-constant noise, making Liara grip onto me for dear life as she got off and off and off. Impossibilities shattered for her first time, and second time, and third time, and fourth and fifth and—losing count after that—I made sure that her voice would never forget my name, no matter how loudly she screamed it out, scratching out her throat.

Not once did I take off any more of her clothes, any more of mine.

The tease, the prospect of making her look forward to more—it was too much for me to resist.

* * *

Only once it was well past midnight did Liara learn that she couldn't tire me out like this. We would've had to do way more for me to get anywhere near exhausted. Not that I was used to this type of marathon… This was only the beginning for her, though it was a first for me, too, in a lot of ways.

Sweating and spent, Liara had sprawled out over her side of the bed.

Listening to her heave for breath in between low moans kept this grin well-done over my face.

If I wasn't starving—and if we didn't have a mission in the morning—I would have pushed her more.

I asked her, "You hungry yet, babe?"

Liara groaned. "Yes, but… By the goddess, Shepard, how are you _not_ worn-out yet?"

"Mmm, I have my ways," I riddled.

"Oh, I'm sure…"

"I'll make us a late dinner," I offered, putting my boots back on. "Then again, I smell like _you_ …"

"Yes—let's keep it that way," directed Liara. "I will find you in the kitchen once I have taken my third shower for the day… You can take one later, can't you?"

Throwing my shirt back on, too, I told her, "I _wanted_ to head back up to my room anyway."

"Why?"

"To get us some wine."

Liara gaped at me. "Tonight?" she asked. "Why now?"

"I should have taken you out to dinner by this point," I explained. "Since I haven't had the chance, the wine is supposed to make up for it. I have a bottle of Sauvignon Blanc. It's this white wine from Earth that I want you to try. You might like it."

"Shepard, that isn't _necessary_ … And I don't have to go out to dinner with you to know how you feel."

"Liara, it's the gesture that counts. I'm not a classless jerk who only cares about having sex with you."

"But… Dinner, and the wine—isn't that for—?"

I stopped her there. "Doesn't have to be."

Blaming herself, Liara dropped the subject. She retreated into her bed more, hiding away. "You can forego the wine for tonight… Please save it for another time. We should just—have a meal without it."

"Yeah, all right," I accepted, heading out. "I'll make us a salad, then. Nice and simple. Come find me once you're ready."

"Of course, Commander…"

Leaving things on that note, for now, seemed like the best thing to do.

I left to the kitchen in the mess hall. No one was awake at this obscene hour. They shouldn't have been, either. Or at least my squad. Liara was the obvious, lone exception to this. I still made a mental note to keep an eye on her in the morning, as well as throughout the mission on Feros, to monitor how she operated on minimal sleep. Sending her back to the ship was a last resort. For her safety.

Washing my hands and taking care to keep my clothes from touching anything, I retrieved everything I needed from the refrigerator. Regular lettuce, sliced cucumbers, tomatoes, and Italian dressing—nothing fancy. But when I'd mentioned the white wine to Liara, I'd had white meat in mind to go along with the drink. I figured it wouldn't hurt to put the meat _in_ the salad instead.

Having it my way, almost.

I found some skinless chicken breasts that I'd already cleaned, pre-seasoned and packed away. I put them over the portable grill-cooker-thing that Kaidan had insisted on buying for us. I'd used these plenty of times back on Earth. His swearing up and down that we _needed_ this one had struck me as strange. Smelling the end-results after a few minutes, though, I understood why he was so fond of the device.

Right when I was about to lift the lid, I heard someone's bare footsteps nearing.

Not quite as light as Liara's, not quite as cautious.

The person—a woman, probably—then stopped all of a sudden.

"Shepard, is that you…?"

Ashley stared at me in disbelief from halfway across the mess hall.

Barefoot, and wearing an oversized white T-shirt and tight black yoga pants, she clearly hadn't been awake cleaning our guns all night. Her hair tied up in a messy bun, I had to guess that Ashley had been in bed all day, or at least resting in the crew's quarters. Still avoiding everyone.

Catching myself staring at the slenderness of her legs in those tight pants, I emptied my thoughts—fully.

"Yeah, it's me," I responded. "Up late, stranger?"

"Uh, yeah!" said Ashley, catching herself in something, too. "Yeah, I—I couldn't sleep…" Finding no malice in my eyes on her, she smiled. "I've been locked in my room all day. Practically dead to the world… _Th-The galaxy_ , I mean!" She chanced walking over to me in the kitchen, inhaling. "Whatever you're making smells _really_ good! I'm starving—haven't eaten since this morning. Mind if I try some?"

I supposed I did have enough for three people.

And Liara _was_ being weird about us having dinner together, alone.

But Ashley, in her obliviousness, was about to walk _too close_ —

"Sure, fine by me," I allowed, trying to step away a bit, discreet. "Why haven't you eaten anything?"

"Just…wanted to avoid the crowd during waking hours, Ma'am."

It was now or never: "Ashley, look, I shouldn't have put a target on your back like that. I had no evidence. Your audit turned up clean. It's my bad that you're dealing with this."

Ashley couldn't accept that. "No, Commander, you went with your gut," she countered. "I was a total recluse on the Citadel each time we picked up a new alien team member. Plus, while we were on the Presidium with Kaidan, I was about to make a comment…"

" _I can't tell the aliens from the animals."_

"Yeah!" she accepted. "Yeah… You shut that shit down fast. S-So, after that, I was trying to adjust…"

I questioned her, "Why bother _adjusting_ , Ashley? I know what the deal is with your family. General Williams. The curse that follows you around over his surrender to the turians during the war. You're afraid you'll cap out at your current rank—I get it. If you really hated non-humans, why hide it?"

"It's not that I ever hated them. It was just a trust thing. Plus, I looked to my commander… _Seriously_ looked at you. That helped change my thinking. I'm sorry for not doing it sooner, Ma'am. And…I'm sorry I was too scared to tell you all of this earlier. I'm such a wimp…"

Honesty was supposedly the best policy—"There was nothing you covered up?"

"Nothing… Besides, even if I had tried to hide anything, it wouldn't have been about that."

"So, there _is_ something," I deduced. "Something you didn't want me to find out about."

" _Something_ … Yeah… _Yes_ , Shepard. I was terrified that you'd go combing through my history, that you'd freak when you found out—" Ashley realized: "Wait a minute! I got your email, but—… You're _done_ with the audit? No more looking into our stuff? You didn't—you didn't see _anything_ from me?!"

She didn't need to know my methods. She didn't need to know that I'd had plans to do a manual search through her history.

Remembering it now, I hadn't done it because I knew—I knew I'd fall into something with her if I did.

"Correct, Chief," I confirmed, keeping the rest quiet. "You're off the hook."

Flooded with relief, Ashley leaned forward, breathing hard. She grabbed hold of the nearest counter, supporting herself as she kept breathing; kept breathing. Like she'd narrowly avoided a crash or some other fatal accident, she had to keep from laughing out of more nerves.

Not wanting to get too involved, I advised her, "You should tell the others. If they're skeptical, they can ask me directly. I'll vouch for you."

"I appreciate it, Shepard," said Ashley, finding her balance again. "It's just—I _tried_ explaining this to them. They want to believe me. Every time they ask for more details, I avoid the truth, and then they go back to being suspicious again. They'd just think I manipulated you somehow…"

"I'm not prone to manipulation, Williams."

"I-I know that! I mean, _I do_. The others, not so much… They need evidence I can't give them."

"You'll find some way to work it out," I counseled. "If they're going to be true friends, they'll listen."

"You're right. You're totally right. Thanks, Commander. I feel better now."

"Good," I said.

She should have a clear head for the mission going forward.

Helping her out and actually… _talking_ with her instead of running away—that wasn't so bad…

Ashley stepped closer, once more—grinning, eager: "So, need any help with dinner? I can…" Too close. Inhaling, again, to _check. "Commander…"_ Even in this dim lighting of the hall, I could see the way her face heated. "Shepard…you smell like sex."

And of course, Liara emerged from the crew's showers, fully-dressed.

Out of the corner of my eye, she spotted the scene and stared.

None the wiser, Ashley remained fixated on me, smirking in lust. "This is one for the history books," she teased in a low, sexy voice. "I had no idea… I mean, who am I to tell you what to do when you're alone in your cabin? I figured you'd at least wash down first. _You know_." She looked me up and down. "I have to ask, though… Do you…do you just use your hand? What do you think about when you do it?"

_Oh, fuck._

"Ashley…"

"Don't worry!" she coaxed in mischief, moving a little closer, nearly setting me off. "Your secret's safe with me… I'm surprised, that's all! Who would've thought that's what you get up to? I…greatly respect and admire your freedom, Ma'am!"

Liara started heading over here, footsteps focused, _deliberate_.

Ashley, either not noticing or not caring, spoke on in suggestiveness, "You shouldn't be embarrassed, if that's the case… You're not the only one who does it. Now that the ship's much lighter these days, I'm all alone in my section of the crew's quarters. I'd be insane _not_ to take advantage of the privacy."

The next thing I knew, Liara was behind me.

_Right behind me._

_Still,_ Ashley continued to disregard her, completely focused on me—"I'm…also surprised you're not saying anything, Shepard. Didn't think _you'd_ be shy about this stuff. You don't have to be…"

Subtle, venomous, Liara eased herself against my back.

She did it in a way that left half of herself visible, half of her expression evident to Ashley in front of me.

She moved her hand up to me, slipping under the ends of my hair.

Slow, soft, and controlling all at once, Liara smoothed her nails up my spine, my shoulder blades, with this gentleness about her tickling at the long trail of my hair behind me. Though my hair wasn't knotted at all, her sensuality combed and brushed at me, mimicking that light pulling in motion.

Ashley wouldn't give her the time of day, though she _definitely_ noticed her by now.

High on opportunity, Ashley moved as close as she could to me without our fronts brushing together.

Gazing at me with fiery precision, she traced me with her eyes, memorizing every part of me in her view.

Raising her nails to the crown of my hair, Ashley stopped just short of touching me. "God, Shepard…you have no idea, do you?" she murmured, so quiet that even Liara couldn't hear. "You spend your days on your own. You keep to yourself at all times. Those nobodies in the Alliance used to talk shit about how you're too pretty to be a marine. And then you proved yourself, ten times over. Now, you're the legendary Commander Shepard who won't let _anything_ get in her way. You're greatness, personified."

As close as possible, Liara leaned into me, pressing her palm fully over my back—sensual in _warning._

And then, Ashley snapped out of her reverie.

Spotting Liara, she stepped back, stammering—

"Liara?! What the—? Is that you?! Why didn't you fricking say anything if you're standing there!?"

" _You noticed me_ , Ashley," lectured Liara, not up for bullshit. "Regardless, you carried on anyway, attempting to ignore me. I wondered how long it would take you to _actually_ acknowledge me here."

"You're creeping me out, Liara!" cried Ashley, stepping away. "Jesus, what the hell is wrong with you?!"

I glared at her.

Yes, Ashley was freaked out, but I wasn't going to stand here and let this go on.

Luckily, she noticed my notice, and sighed.

"Okay, okay…I'm sorry," apologized Ashley. "Maybe I did spot you."

"And then you proceeded to ignore me," repeated Liara.

"Well, I didn't think it was a big deal that you were there! Then I felt this _chill_ in the air…"

"Am I _really_ that insignificant to you?"

"If you're gonna have an attitude like that, then yeah, you are! I said I'm sorry, didn't I?!"

No.

_No._

_No!_

I _just_ fixed Ashley's problem with her emotions running haywire.

I was _not_ about to have another situation on my hands.

I didn't need Liara and Ashley shooting at each other _by accident_ out in the field!

"Will you two cut it out?!" I snapped. "I don't know what the hell is going on, but we are _not_ doing this! You need to hash this out ASAP. No questions asked. I'm not fooling around here."

Ashley backed down first. "Understood—sorry, Ma'am…"

"Very well, Commander," replied Liara, having stepped away a bit.

Seeing as how this was partly my fault, I felt obligated to be the mediator here…

So I suggested, "Look, can we just eat this salad I was about to make—in peace? While we eat, we can talk about normal, non-combative things. You know, like civilized people?"

"Works for me!" agreed Ashley.

Liara, however, clearly felt like she had no choice. "As you wish."

Ashley recommended, "Why don't we head to my room? There's just enough space for us to hang out! You two can sit on one of the free bunks next to mine. Oh, we can have a girls' night together!"

"Chief, this isn't a sleepover," I corrected.

"C'mon, Shepard! I know it's not. I'm _trying_ to lighten the mood! Didn't you say to hash this out ASAP?"

"Yeah, I did…"

"So come on, then!" she encouraged.

My intuition told me Ashley hammed this up to piss Liara off.

 _Have a girls' night together_ …since when was that something she would say in a situation like this?

As long as she was trying to smooth things over, it wasn't my place to point out her ridiculousness.

"Fine, have it your way," I allowed. "Liara, are you up for this?"

"I will do as you want, Shepard," she said, sounding neutral enough.

"Okay, wonderful. To start off, why don't the two of you stay here and make this actual salad for us? I was going to cut the meat into strips and mix it in with the rest. Can you handle that?"

Gorgeous as ever in her joy, Ashley beamed at me. "Sure, we can do that! I promise I'll behave myself."

"You wish for us to stay here?" echoed Liara. "Where are you going?"

I justified: "I need a shower—"

"—don't," they said in unison.

All I could muster at them was a blank stare.

This wasn't happening…was it?

Finding my voice again, I asserted, "Then I at least need a few minutes to myself. Clear my head. By the time I'm finished, you should be done with the food. I'll…find you in the crew's quarters."

"We'll have your salad ready and waiting, Commander," promised Ashley. "See you in a bit!"

Liara turned away, not wanting any of this—but she put up with it because I said so.

* * *

Wandering back up the stairs to the empty command center, I again couldn't believe _my luck._

My motherfucking luck that landed me almost-in-like with Liara, who probably couldn't tolerate me getting any other female attention whatsoever.

We weren't even a couple like that.

But she had been straight-up with me, and this was what I had agreed to…

Leaning against the railing around the galaxy map, I tried to focus on something else. I noted our current destination, of the Attican Beta cluster where Feros was, set to arrive at 0900 hours. _This_ should have been the only thing on my mind: the mission. Stopping Saren from finding the Conduit he was after.

His sinister, lofty plans seemed so far away at times like this.

Times like now, when I remembered the way Liara had felt and sounded underneath me.

I focused on this, because the alternative was too much for me to bear.

There was some part of me that knew the truth: that I had chosen to make these concessions, and that I had given into her like this to avoid my actual reality. Liara was amazing. She was intelligent, beautiful, and so full of raw emotion—but she couldn't give me what I needed. She had made herself clear.

To some extent, this was fine. She seemed to like me way more than I liked her. I was fine with that, too.

I was comfortable with actually _not_ being able to give Liara my real commitment.

Because Ashley was still there—her unsubtlety, her overwhelming emotions _trying_ to get through to me.

And yet, as far as I knew from the grapevine in the Alliance, _she was straight._ Non-military boyfriends in the past; gently turning down the women who asked her out. Whatever she'd said back in the kitchen was only her being nosey… And if she really _did_ wonder about me, it was in that way I was used to from other straight women: those oh-so innocent fantasies that they would never take all that seriously.

That was all this was… Her feelings for me weren't real. She idealized me. She was only curious. _Right…?_

Because if I let myself fall for another straight woman—and my subordinate, too—then that would've…

Unexpected movement in my periphery: way up, far up at the helm, I spotted the back of Joker's chair swinging a little, back and forth. He was still awake at this hour, still piloting the ship instead of docking at a rest station to get some sleep for the night.

Then, barely, I heard his high-pitched laughter.

I couldn't tell if he was watching something or what, but whatever had gotten into him, he was _really_ into it. But honestly, Joker _couldn't_ have been stupid enough to be watching porn right now.

Well, no—maybe he was.

Deciding to investigate, I headed over to him, unsure of what to expect.

The closer I got, the clearer I heard Joker and his shenanigans: the way he cackled to himself at varying volumes, stopping to mumble an incoherent mess of words I couldn't hear, and then cracking up again. Making a bunch of other childish, _fun_ sounds, he struggled to breathe properly. Excitement—perhaps too much—had taken over him, and he kept reliving the experience of whatever had happened.

He sounded like he was high on something.

Stims, drugs, energy drinks?

"Joker?" I asked, nearing him—not too close.

Horrified, Joker spun his chair around to face me. "Commander?!" he screamed. Making sure that it was me, he heaved for breath. "Oh, Jesus Christ, Shepard, you scared the hell out of me! Can you walk louder next time? Or—or find some _other_ way to warn me, so I don't have a freaking heart attack?"

"There won't _be_ a next time unless you tell me what's going on," I deadpanned.

Joker wiped his streaming eyes. "Ahh, jeez… You just _had_ to be here now!" Trembling, he snorted down his nervous laughter. "Wait a minute… _You're here_. That means it was real… _They were right!_ They had the timing right! Oh shit… Oh shit, oh shit—shit-shit-shit—"

"—Joker…"

He leaned forward in his chair, holding his face; shaking his head in wonder and disbelief.

" _What the shit…!?"_

"Flight Lieutenant—"

"—Shepard, you are a freaking GOD. You hear me?! You. Are. A. GOD!"

Panicky, unable to contain himself, Joker laughed and laughed.

I couldn't deal with this anymore—"Snap out of it, Joker! Are you high while piloting my ship?!"

"You think I'm high?!" mocked Joker. "As if, Commander. _As if!"_

"Then what the fuck is wrong with you!?" Uncontrollable, Joker only laughed more—nerves mounting, ribs aching in fear over my rising temper, trying and failing to stop. "Seriously? I don't have time for this garbage! If you're not doing anything productive up here, then go to sleep!"

Joker was about to fall out of his chair.

"Commander, I can't…!" he panted. "It's too much… Too much!"

I raged, "Go to sleep, Joker! _Go to sleep!_ Go to fucking sleep before I knock you out myself!"

Raising his hands in the air, Joker conceded, "Okay, okay! Pulling into the nearest rest station now! I'm going, Ma'am—I'm going!"

I had no real plans for this, but I told him anyway—"If I come back later and you're still here…"

Joker cleared his throat. "No, no, no, I'll do as I'm told!" he claimed. Spinning back around in his chair, he found enough control to get the ship moving. "See? Going now, just like I said. I'm going… I'm totally, totally going. Oh, man…"

"Whatever," I dismissed, leaving. "I'm out of here. Sleep this off."

That wicked grin of his: "See ya, Commander…"

* * *

Bracing myself for the worst, I made it to the crew's quarters, searching for Ashley's bunk area. Each of the different rooms housed their own sets of bed bunks and living areas. All of the doors I passed were locked. On purpose, I'd never visited Ashley in her own quarters, so I really had no idea where to look.

But she had done me a favor and left her door open.

Eventually, I heard her and Liara speaking together.

I followed their indistinct voices—the calm of Liara's breathiness, the slight rasp of Ashley's directness—finding the wide window of the room right across from me. The serenity of that dark, glimmering limitlessness overlooked Liara and Ashley sitting in separate bunks on the lower levels. Facing each other as they talked, they didn't quite look serious or friendly—somewhere in between—yet I still wasn't close enough to hear them properly, since they seemed to keep their voices down on purpose.

Ashley had her terminal over the foot of her bed, playing music at a low volume—anything to keep the absolute quiet from surrounding them, to avoid that awkwardness. She also kept her space clean. Abnormally clean, even for the military: not a single knick-knack or piece of clothing visible anywhere, and nothing that would have identified her with this area.

On the nightstand between the bunks sat three bowls of salad, untouched.

They'd decided to wait for me before eating anything.

Noticing me first, Ashley smiled.

"Shepard, hey! Come on in."

Bracing myself once more, and emptying my thoughts of Ashley once again, I went inside.

"Hello, Commander," greeted Liara, like seeing me again was no big deal.

She sat near the end of the mattress on her designated bunk, leaving space near the pillows.

Ashley lounged over her own bunk, stretching out in an unintentional sensuality…or _maybe_ on purpose.

Passing them by to go to the only open space, I hoped that we wouldn't have any repeats from earlier.

"Isn't quite the same as your cabin, huh?" chatted Ashley, watching me fit myself under the top bunk to sit down. "All that free, open space to yourself. Not anymore! You're one of the grunts now, Ma'am."

"This is…decent," I offered.

"Uh-huh, you hate it."

Liara stood up to hand me my food. "Here you are, Shepard."

I bit down on my reflexive reaction to call her _babe_ —"Thanks."

Ashley chose to be obnoxious: "Aren't you gonna give me mine, too?"

Obliging anyway, Liara did so. "And yours."

"I was only messing with you," admitted Ashley, accepting the salad. "Thanks, Liara…"

"We had this discussion only a few short minutes ago," said Liara, retreating back to her spot with her food. "Didn't you agree to stop doing this? I don't appreciate it."

"Yeah, we _did_ go over this already…"

"Then why continue?"

Ashley used her fork to busy herself. "Because," she mumbled, sighing. "I guess I have no idea how else to talk to you, that's why. I mean, seriously, do you and I have _anything_ in common? No? I thought so." She started eating, making a loud, closed-mouthed sound of surprise. "Ohh, this is so good! Shepard!"

Liara had a small smile on her face as she ate, letting that speak of her agreement.

"Glad you like it," I said, just to say something.

And I had such an urge to devour this immediately, as hungry as I was. I ate at a normal pace instead.

"It's amazing!" complimented Ashley, more. "How did you make the meat taste like this?! Whenever I try using Kaidan's mini-grill, the stuff I make _never_ turns out this way." She did her best to avoid talking with her mouth full. "Ugh, this is so much better than what I'm used to eating when I'm deployed. I practically can't stand it! Commander, you totally have to cook for us from now on. This is…wow!"

"You're _that_ surprised I know how to cook, Chief? It's only salad. What have you been eating?"

"I-I didn't mean that as an insult or anything! And, um…let's just say I've built up an iron stomach."

"Point taken," I acknowledged.

Ashley surprised me by including Liara in the conversation, "Hey, Doc, what's it like for you, being on a military ship?"

"Things aboard the _Normandy_ are very efficient," replied Liara.

" _More_ efficient now that Shepard's the captain and her own XO. She runs a tight ship."

"Judging only by the difference from my first couple of days until now, I have to agree."

"Mm-hmm, I bet!" said Ashley. "Before you got here, what were you used to? You know, with work?"

"I am used to spending time alone on archaeology digs. Or perhaps with a small handful of other researchers. I would spend my days searching for artifacts, cross-referencing discoveries with existing data. In some cases, I was more focused on preserving a site over locating new items."

"Sounds…lonely."

"Yes, it was," confirmed Liara. "I enjoyed the isolation. It gave me the time to reflect in peace."

Ashley studied her, seeming to pick up on something. "So you're saying you like being alone."

"I am used to it, and I enjoy the solitude whenever I get the chance."

"Are you…an only-child?"

"My mother Benezia only had me, yes."

"What about your father?" asked Ashley, baffled. "Extended family members? Family friends? Hell, did you at least have a pet or two growing up?"

Liara frowned at her. "I recall you mentioning how large and involved your own family is. Please don't assume things about me simply because we don't share the same type of background. I have my upbringing and you have yours. They are both different. Not better or worse."

"Yeah, but…"

Ashley then looked to me, remembering that I was an orphan back on Earth. I was sure she didn't have a clue about how gay kids like me had to get by in the city where I was from. She had no idea that I wasn't necessarily out on the streets—that I'd had my own chosen family looking after me, making sure I had a roof over my head, that I had enough to eat most of the time, and that I kept up with school.

Still, I was used to keeping to myself.

I was used to not holding on to anything or anyone.

This old feeling that I could lose everything in an instant—it'd already happened to me enough times.

And then there was Liara, warping everything for me, _again_.

"Okay, then," conceded Ashley. "I get your point… Sorry, Liara. Just trying to get to know you, that's all."

Liara had more to say about that, yet she chose to hold it back.

Cringing, Ashley pointed out the obvious: "Look, I understand… You don't like me. I have a lot to prove out here, so of course I'm going to be ballsy every chance I get. Meanwhile, you're perfectly fine with _existing_ and not having to worry about what people think of you. You have your books; you're fine."

Incensed, Liara only let it burn in slow, quiet bursts. "Ashley…you have no idea what I have had to _prove_ to anyone. You can't presume to know me after a single month of infrequent conversation."

"So what've you had to prove?" prodded Ashley, sitting up; finished with her salad down to the last scrap of lettuce. "Tell me! I wanna know!"

"I would have told you earlier, had the subject come up in a more tactful way."

"But you've told Shepard. Haven't you? Tali, Garrus? Why can't you tell me, too? Does this have something to do with the drama? I told you, I'm not like that!"

Liara continued to control her temper: "Shepard, Tali, and Garrus didn't make wild assumptions about my life, and then proceed to judge me and put me into a narrow box. You think that I am merely a shy bookworm. You believe that I have never had to prove myself, as if my career and my accomplishments simply fell into my lap. You are incredibly mistaken, Ashley. _Do_ _not_ underestimate me."

All Ashley could do was gawk at her, hardly believing what she'd heard.

"Commander, I am leaving now," announced Liara, standing up. "I don't feel that we are making much meaningful progress with this experiment. Chief Williams and I simply disagree on too many things."

"Don't worry about it," I allowed. "You two talked enough. Oil and water—I get it."

"Thank you for understanding, Shepard. I will see you in the morning, then. Good night."

"'Night—"

Stopping that reflex, once again.

Ashley didn't notice, still too thrown from this turn of events.

Liara collected our empty dishes for us and left, making sure the door closed behind her.

Relaxing back against these stiff pillows, I worked to keep my mask on, harder and tighter than usual.

Being alone with Ashley in her room like this…I hadn't prepared for it. I couldn't let her know that.

Ashley hid her face in her hands. _"And there I go,"_ she reprimanded herself. "Messing up another friendship all because I couldn't keep my mouth shut. I'm never gonna learn, apparently…" She regarded me, expecting me to stand up and leave soon. "Please don't act like you feel sorry for me, Ma'am. I blew it, plain and simple. That's the end of that."

I let her know my observations: "From the sound of things, you two hardly talked as it is. Why do you care if Liara's your friend or not? You said it yourself—the two of you have nothing in common."

"It's not about having things in common… I only said that to be an ass."

Rolling my eyes, I said, "Then you have the nerve to wonder why she's pissed at you? _Come on."_

"I know, I know!"

"You still haven't told me why you care in the first place."

Barely audible, Ashley mumbled into her hands—"I care because _you care."_

Needing to dismiss yet another clue she had given me, I acted like I didn't hear her.

Groaning in frustration, Ashley moved to turn her terminal off. She kept chastising herself, privately, unable to stop scowling off in the distance. I could tell she still had something to get off her chest. Something that had been eating away at her this whole time she spent avoiding everyone, avoiding me.

Ashley had to know that I noticed this about her— _at least_ this much. And maybe it was…unrelated.

"You look like you need to have a talk with me," I prompted her. "About this thing that's been bothering you this whole time. Or am I wrong?"

"No, Commander, you're right…"

"So? What is it?"

In the middle of her hesitations, Ashley's omni-tool went off, alerting her to several messages.

" _Really?"_ she complained, disabling the sounds. " _Now_ you people wanna talk to me? I am _so_ not in the mood for this crap." Quiet again. Ashley looked to me again, and then hid, again. "Okay, Shepard. If I tell you this, you have to promise me you won't tell a soul. If this got out, I'd probably lose my mind."

"Sounds serious."

"That's because it is…"

"I know that I brought this up and all," I prefaced. "I'm only wondering why you feel comfortable enough to share this with me now. You've clearly been avoiding me on the ship for weeks. I figured I'd be the last person you'd have this discussion with."

"I did try to tell Kaidan. I _honestly_ tried. He was worried about me after that night. He wanted to help make everything right with the team. He cares _so much_ , you know?"

I asked, "You didn't tell him?"

"I chickened out and made up some barely-related story. He thinks I'm still in love with some old boyfriend of mine from high school. Told him I was scared you'd find the stupid romantic emails with my sappy poetry. He bought the whole thing, didn't doubt me at all. Ugh, I feel like shit about it…"

"Do you think that was the best thing to do?"

Ashley hummed, considering.

"Now that you mention it? Probably, yeah. Of course I feel bad about lying to him. But the hints he gave to the others while you were there? That did smooth things over a little. So that…helped."

"Why didn't you tell him the truth, Ashley? It's _Kaidan._ He wasn't going to judge you."

"He might have," replied Ashley, cryptic. "You don't know otherwise. Not for certain. Kaidan may be a boy scout compared to you and me, but he's still human. I know how he operates. He could have gone behind my back and told the team the whole story, you know, to get them to sympathize with me completely. That would've ruined me, Shepard. I'm not ready for them to know just yet."

I understood: "You didn't wanna take the risk."

"Hell no."

I brought it back—"So why tell _me?"_

"Because…I trust you."

"Already," I pointed out, forcing my mind to go blank again, blanking, blank, blank.

Groaning again, exasperated, Ashley pushed back—"You want me to play your game, be ruthless about it? Fine. You have _nothing_ to gain by telling anyone my business. And if I did find out, then you'd have to deal with me being angry with you and unfocused during missions. I might make a wrong call; shoot someone or something I'm not supposed to. It's in your best interest to keep my spirits up, Ma'am."

This was obviously some type of sore spot for her… "If that's how you wanna play it, I won't fight you."

She seemed disappointed that I hadn't given her an out to shut down the conversation, like with Liara.

Ashley then nodded a few times. "Okay," she accepted. "I'll tell you. Ready?"

"Go ahead."

Looking me right in the eye, Ashley faltered at the last moment, and said, "I'm… I'm confused. My sexuality. I—" Steeling myself, I watched her waver against this surface of me, indestructible. "I'm confused…about my sexuality. I'm questioning. _There_. I admitted it out loud! I actually admitted it…"

This breach in my defenses against her, in all that had kept my cravings for Ashley at bay, I ignored—

"You mean, you haven't told anyone at all?"

"No…not even myself. I was terrified you'd find my extranet searches: _'How to tell if I'm gay', 'What's it like to be with a girl compared to a guy', 'What's bisexuality', 'Coming out to your religious family', 'Is it really unnatural for two women to have biological kids together'_ … And I have…a ton of emails I sent to myself with, um, notes and other—other things…about a certain woman. Things that are meant for my eyes only. Love sonnets I wrote for her. Love letters I wish I could actually send to her. That kind of thing."

_Then why use your work email for that?_

But, really, now wasn't the time to get on her case—if ever.

"I have no reason to judge you," I told her. "Doesn't bother me. You're tough. You'll figure this out."

"I hope you're right. Thanks for being so nice about this, Skipper… But, how did I know you'd say that?"

 _Skipper_ , huh? "No idea."

Ashley laughed. "Figures," she said. "It's sweet of you. You're a woman of few words. I respect that—"

Again, her omni-tool blared with alerts.

Again, she yelled over the interruption.

"Maybe you should see what they want," I suggested. "They're not gonna leave you alone."

"No way! They're so damn rude. How do they even know I'm awake right now?!"

"Could be related to what they're trying to tell you."

"Ugh, fine," conceded Ashley, opening up her omni-tool's messaging interface. "Oh my God, it's Tali and Joker spamming me! Hang on a minute. I'll see what they want really quick, then tell them we'll discuss it later. Like, I appreciate that they're talking to me again and everything, but this is just…ridiculous…"

From Tali? _Joker?_

Goddamnit, I told Joker to take his ass to bed! Of course he was still up chatting on his omni-tool…

That anger left me as soon as it arrived.

I watched as all of the color in Ashley's face drained as she read those messages.

Bright headlights of her eyes, riling, first, before she edged her reaction down, and down, lowering her omni-tool arm. She then brought her shaking hands to her face, burrowing her reaction away from me, as if she could have suffocated it, ended it all from sheer pressure and force alone.

She couldn't.

Not even Ashley could keep something like this in.

Heaving forward of her whole torso, like she was sick, like she was about to throw up—and then she stopped it, swallowing it back.

Keeping her mouth clamped shut, vice-like, was all she could do in this moment.

"Ashley…?"

" _No, no, no,"_ she fretted in a deep-seated anguish, about to burst. "No… This isn't happening… _No, no…_ God, this can't be happening… No, I can't—I can't believe this! Her…? _Her!?_ What the fuck?!"

More than concerned now, I asked her, "Ashley, is someone on the ship in trouble? Do you need me to get involved? You're acting like someone died—"

"— _no one died, Shepard!_ No one's dead; no one's in trouble!"

"…then what's the matter? I'm worried about you—"

These last few seconds before bursting, and Ashley turned her back to me. Latching her arms around her mouth, her head, she tried to contain the outpour. She sobbed in back-cracking convulsions. She growled in throat-bleeding hatred. She groaned in sweat-inducing shame, repeating her disbelief over and over and over again, knowing that I was still here, knowing that I watched her fall apart like this. She almost smothered herself to keep me from hearing it all, but it was no use…

Talking to Ashley or getting her to talk to me—that wasn't going to work.

My shock of her shock—I didn't know what to do, didn't know how to react to any of this.

Deciding whether to stay or whether to leave her alone, Anderson's letter _again_ returned to my mind.

As strong and proud as Ashley was, I understood that her own helplessness over her reaction, over me witnessing her reaction, only made everything worse. I couldn't keep my distance from her right now.

Standing up, I moved closer to where she sat over her bunk.

Ashley came up for air, once, dislodging her arms to breathe, before locking herself again, tighter.

I sat down over her bed. I kept enough space between us—enough to show her that I was here, to not suffocate her with my sympathy. Enough to not give myself away: how _I cared_ for her all of a sudden.

Keeping my eyes straight ahead, I swallowed this sudden, sudden sympathy down, realizing the way it scratched at my throat. I laced my hands together, fingers tightening. I did my best to dry out my stare.

Sitting here, entirely still, I couldn't ignore how Ashley's agony made me hurt for her. Even though I had no idea what was wrong, or why she was so upset, or how this had affected her so much, none of that mattered. What Liara would think, what _anyone else_ would think—none of it mattered right then.

Ashley eventually leaned against my shoulder, letting me support her like this.

She wouldn't stop crying, only lessening in intensity as the night passed, as the hours passed.

I stayed awake the entire time. Staying stoic for her, staying impartial for her. Staying here when I normally would have left in disgust. Staying like this and supporting her as she wracked against me.

I had such a sinking feeling that Liara was involved somehow… But I couldn't let myself believe that.

Ashley fell asleep here against my shoulder after a while, long after she should have. Long after my own exhaustion had crept through my chest, warning me that I needed to sleep, or else. Warning, and nearly winning and shutting me off, but I couldn't. I sat with this exhaustion, knowing that my emergency implants couldn't help me.

Outside, I heard the stirrings of other crew members who'd started to wake up for the hours' dawn.

No rumblings of gossip outside of Ashley's door, and no whispering—no one had heard her.

Only general shuffling through the halls, yawns and stretching; innocent calls of _good morning._

In this surreal experience, I learned more of what Captain Anderson had meant in his letter to me. I understood why he had told me the things he had—more so now than even after the episode Liara had had with me. More so, but in completion, evolving my thoughts of Ashley way beyond my comfort zone.

Liara had helped to sow the beginnings; Ashley had brought everything to fruition:

Sacrificing like this for my team, both on and off the battlefield, was part of my job, my duty as their commander. I would find some way to not compromise our mission. I would find some way to power through this mind-shattering exhaustion. I would push through, lead the squad to a mission success, and then worry about myself later. I could do that—I believed in myself to do all of it. No questions asked.

Completely unambiguous, now that Ashley and Liara had helped me to learn my honor as their leader.


	6. One Mind, One Master

" _Spider's String" from Shin Megami Tensei: Digital Devil Saga / "Meltdown" from Requiem for a Dream_

 **VI.** One Mind, One Master

_(Liara)_

After such a wonderful night, here was this juvenile… _situation_ that I was now forced to deal with.

Sitting in the comm room with the rest of the squad that morning, we all waited for Shepard to arrive, and for her to brief us on our mission on Feros. This circular formation of chairs made it impossible to escape everyone's _varied_ ways of passing the time. Wrex, Tali, Garrus, Ashley, Kaidan—each of them kept to themselves, technically, yet even at this hour of the morning, they seemed to have had more life and emotion injected into them, for reasons that had turned me off to complete silence.

Last night, after I'd left Shepard with Ashley in the crew's quarters, I had noticed that I'd had several silenced alerts to my omni-tool. Tali had sent me numerous private messages over the course of many hours, beginning earlier that evening around 7:45pm. She had reached a fever pitch over that time:

_[19:43:01] Tali: Liara! Are you and Shepard doing what I think you're doing?! How?! When!?_

_[19:55:33] Tali: Ummm, so, we (me, Kaidan, Garrus, Wrex) are here in the med bay, kind-of-sort-of accidentally listening to you, and you two sound really into it like you're enjoying yourselves and I totally should not be telling you this I'm so sorry please don't hate me_

_[20:02:12] Tali: No, no, no, no, no…it can't be Shepard in there with you. Are you…calling her name while you…? I mean, it was more than a little obvious you have a thing for her. Ohh, I don't blame you…_

_[20:02:56] Tali: Wait, no, I hear her!_

_[20:05:32] Tali: YOU TWO ARE SO LOUD_

_[20:11:45] Tali: Keelah, is it that good? Is she? Oh… Oh wow_

_[20:22:16] Tali: Shepard is going to break your bed!_

_[20:27:21] Tali: Oh please forgive me… My mind is going places and I can't—no. I should get back to work. Yes, work. To distract myself from these thoughts! I'll, umm, see if you want to have dinner later? A very, very late dinner. And I'm not going to be able to sleep tonight, you know. This is all your fault._

_[21:39:45] Tali: Bad news… Joker found out. He wants to join the chat. We can't really tell him no at this point. He found all of us in the med bay and he…overheard you screaming Shepard's name. He's practically one of us now. Oh, and…Dr. Chakwas may have walked by, too… Her face was extremely red._

_[21:50:54] Tali: I'm doing my best to keep everyone from talking about this in the main chat room. Ashley doesn't know, and I'm sure this isn't how you would want her to find out. Oh, Keelah, this is going to be weird once she knows. She won't be able to shut up about it, I'm sure. Joker is trying to tell her now. I asked him to wait. We won't do anything more without your permission. It would be rude not to…_

_[22:31:30] Tali: Hey, Liara… I guess you'll see this later. Kaidan came by to see me while I was (trying to) work. He told me the real reason why Ashley has been acting so strange. Something about an old boyfriend of hers. He asked me to tell you, and for us to keep it to ourselves._

_Her reasons check out, but something still feels a little off. I know Kaidan wanted to help us rebuild our friendship with her… I'm not sure how I feel about him going behind her back to tell us about this. I truly want us to be friends with her again. How am I supposed to avoid this? I'm going to have to be honest, and tell her the truth…_

_[00:26:44] Tali: ARE YOU AND SHEPARD STILL GOING?!_

She continued to message me after that, practically delirious from her lack of sleep, among other things.

Once I left Ashley's room, I gave the others permission to speak freely about this in our main chat room.

And then, Tali had messaged Ashley with warnings about Joker's inevitable onslaught of gossip; Joker then did in fact send Ashley several private messages about what she had _missed out on_.

It had all seemed so inevitable at the time: that Ashley would find out, that she would be crushed.

Even so, I felt my own deliberate intentions in giving the others my permission to gossip.

I accepted that I wanted to crush Ashley over this. On purpose. To shut down her advances on Shepard.

This was as close as I could get to doing just that.

On my left, Wrex smirked and chuckled to himself—non-stop, knowing—while nodding, and muttering Shepard's name in a triumphant sort of praise. All for the way she had 'conquered' me, to be sure.

On my right, Garrus sat exceptionally still. He hardly blinked, only clearing his throat on occasion.

Tali had her hands over her helmet, shaking her head as she mumbled to herself—leaving only me to hear her while everyone else was so preoccupied—"She is…the embodiment of all things, in a single person, and with such duality… The strength and confidence of a man. The beauty and understanding of a woman. What _is_ she? And why do I feel this way…? I can't stop thinking about the way she sounded… If my suit wasn't in the way— _could she_ have given me the same strength she gave to Liara? _Oh, no…"_

Kaidan had doubled over in his seat, holding himself about his waist, and repeating, "Oh, God. What have I done?! Oh, God, I have to tell Shepard I messed up… Maybe she's in a good mood after…last night… Or maybe I'm screwed," over and over again.

Ashley had her arms folded. She refused to let her true reactions show. On occasion, she would snap at someone—"God, _why_ are you acting so immature about this? What's with you?!"—only for them to ignore her. Other than that, she kept to herself, hiding her pained thoughts behind her scowl.

All of this went on and on, until Shepard arrived right at her scheduled time.

Already in her all-black N7 stealth suit, and with her hair already pulled back into that long, strict tail of hers, Shepard entered the comm room. She held herself with such an attractive, professional sharpness that cut through the foolishness going on around us. Not all of it stopped right away. Glaring at everyone, she caught the last of their attempts to pull themselves out of their moods or stupors.

"What the hell is wrong with you people?" questioned Shepard. "We have a mission! Get it together!"

Everyone else did as they were told, replying with variants of, _"Ma'am", "Commander", "Shepard."_

Shepard continued, "We've arrived on the planet Feros, not far from Zhu's Hope, a human colony. Saren's geth are causing problems for the colonists and the ExoGeni branch that runs its corporate operations out here. Our objective is to find out why the geth are here, and to eliminate the threat. Saving any colonists or ExoGeni workers is secondary. Any questions?"

Kaidan raised his hand. "Isn't ExoGeni interested in discovering new alien technology? There are lots of Prothean ruins out on Feros. Could be the case that Saren sent his geth to look for another beacon."

Knowing that I knew more about this, Shepard said, "Liara? Thoughts?"

"There are no known Prothean beacons on Feros," I stated. "While there are ample ruins, as you said, Lieutenant, the ones on this planet have been thoroughly explored. If Saren is keen to locate anything here, it would have to be something that we have no records of. Completely uncharted territory."

Wrex asked, "Then how're _we_ supposed to find this thing if it's brand new?"

"We'll learn more once we get to Zhu's Hope," guided Shepard. "Given the number of hostiles that have taken over, we need a full team for this. Let's stick together and take out any geth on our way to the colony. Focus on stripping their shields—Tali, Garrus, I want you two coordinating on tech bursts."

"Roger that," said Garrus.

"Yes, Shepard," agreed Tali.

Shepard ordered, "Once those shields are down, I'd better see some biotic explosions. Liara, Kaidan, Wrex—you know what to do."

Wrex smirked. "Should be fun."

Kaidan's acquiescence—"Commander."

"On your order, Shepard," I accepted.

Shepard's final combat directives: "Ashley, hang back with me to finish off any stragglers. With all the explosions that are bound to go off, I won't bother sniping. I'll do what I can with my sidearm."

"Aye, aye, Ma'am," came Ashley's stoic reply—until she recalled: "Wait a minute… You're an infiltrator, right? Shouldn't you have access to tech abilities, too? Overload, Damping, Sabotage? To use against the geth."

"My specialization doesn't leave room for those standard-grade abilities. I don't need them, anyway."

"What do you mean? Isn't that a _serious_ weakness for you, not having access to those things?"

Tali seemed like she wanted to comment on this, too, but she must have been tongue-tied.

Shepard clarified: "After my N7 training, I received other specialized implants instead—things that help my personal survivability, alone. Like regulating my body temperature in hazardous weather, and an Icarus Landing System augmentation to help me survive most long drops. In extreme situations, I can stave off hunger and exhaustion for weeks at a time. I do my best not to use them unless I need to."

Garrus remarked, "That's pretty badass, Shepard. Sounds to me like you're an N7 Lone Wolf, then."

"Close enough," allowed Shepard. "I can penetrate almost any defenses with my sniper rifle, and I can survive for long periods of time by myself. That falls apart when I'm out in the open and surrounded by an army of hostiles expecting company, like we will be out here on Feros. And I can't have Dr. Chakwas on my ass about abusing my tactical cloak implants. So, in situations like these, it'll be more efficient to let all of you do the heavy lifting. If need be, I can scout around with my cloak in short bursts."

"Glass cannon, huh?" wondered Wrex. "If you get pinned down and can't sprint away, or if you're overwhelmed in close-quarters combat with just your pistol, sounds to me like your worst nightmare."

"Yes, that's my reality."

Each of us looked to one another.

No matter how skilled Shepard was in her own right, she was not invincible. Her shields could keep her safe for some time until she could cloak and escape. Yet without an overwhelming element of surprise, or a proper vantage point, she could not survive or excel in direct fights like the rest of us could. I had my own levels of intensity that I couldn't stand when up against a straight line of fire. But I at least had my biotics to make up for things, given that I had ample space and energy to use my abilities properly.

Shepard didn't have anything similar to fall back on.

We all understood that we had a responsibility to make up for our commander's weaknesses, whether she wished to admit it or not.

Shepard pulled our attention back, "We're done here. Gear up and meet me by the airlock. We'll head out as soon as everyone's ready."

As the others filed out of the comm room, I chose to stay behind.

I watched as Shepard unstrapped that same silver bottle from the back of her stealth suit. She unscrewed the top and drank the contents, only to make a face of revulsion as she swallowed. Walking closer to her, I could smell just how processed and unnatural the drink was, more so as she forced herself to consume more of it.

"This is _disgusting_ ," she hissed, holding the bottle out and away.

I asked, "Shepard, what is that?"

"An…energy drink. I didn't sleep at all last night. Hasn't been long enough for my implants to kick in."

"Why didn't you sleep?"

Instead of answering me, she tried, one more time, to keep drinking.

I pressed my lips to hers, sucking.

Shepard let out a sound of surprise into my mouth.

Staggering back, she kept our tasting intertwined, caught in a panic; a swell of her breath and a pour of the artificial bitterness; I hated the taste, yet I fought my own recoil, angling up and harder into her to compensate. Because no matter how much I couldn't stand this _drink_ , having Shepard's lips over mine gave me this wondrous swelling in my heart. Just as I'd felt the night before, all night long.

When we broke away, she covered her mouth with her hand, wiping at what had dripped down.

I looked right at her in deep concentration, licking at what had trickled from my bottom lip.

Such a beautiful crimson knitting through the sunlight of her skin.

"Liara…go suit up," directed Shepard, masking the rest. "The others will start wondering."

"They already _know_ , Commander," I informed her. "We weren't exactly quiet last night."

Shepard didn't seem terribly bothered by this. "All of you, and Joker… Do you have a chat room or something where you message each other? About the _Normandy_ , and about—drama, I guess?"

I saw no point in hiding it any longer: "You aren't supposed to know about it."

"Oh… That explains a lot, actually. Thanks for telling me. I'll…keep this to myself."

"Of course, Shepard. I'll be on my way now."

As I left the room, I felt her eyes on me, and her longing to pull me back, to keep me with her.

Shepard resisted.

The mission came first, after all.

* * *

Running and gunning through these swarms of geth as a full group, I found this controlled chaos rather exhilarating—aside from having to step over so many dead human bodies on our way to Zhu's Hope…

I stayed behind Garrus, whom Shepard had ordered to take point, with Tali right next to me. Hurrying through these hallways and stairwells of cracked, ashen cement and rubble, I fell into a rhythm of waiting for the exact moment when Tali and Garrus' organized tech bursts decimated the geth's shields and defenses. And then, in that moment, firing off a singularity field, catching entire units in my hold. Wrex and Kaidan sent their own biotic forces out, detonating the blasts that I had primed for them, explosions rumbling and ricocheting all around us.

Stomping ahead to finish off any holdovers, Wrex was all too happy to headbutt them before firing off his shotgun, leaving many crumpled geth platforms in his wake.

Shepard and Ashley had long-since accepted that they had little to contribute in comparison. So they stayed together at the rear of the group. They said nothing, in-sync as they coordinated with one another: watching our backs as we traversed these halls and staircases.

An air of words unspoken between the two made me glance at them every so often.

That air weighed heavier and more oppressive—to me—than our actual surroundings, of the dense clouds hovering far above the structures we rushed through.

The endless heights of the Prothean skyscrapers raised farther than even those white-gray clouds overhead, standing as majestic memories of the ones who came before. Though I knew nothing awaited within those structures, I couldn't help wondering what it had been like for the early explorers who had discovered the marvels that had been inside those buildings. I had to resist the temptation to re-review the old records those discoveries via my omni-tool.

Anything to distract myself from the now-concerning amount of corpses we ran past.

Anything to make me forget how pensive and peaceable Shepard and Ashley were with one another.

Making light of it all, Wrex shouted toward the back of the group, "How's that glass cannon life treating you, Commander? Racking up kills, getting your game on? Or are you too busy cowering back there?"

Shepard surprised me when she fired back, "Keep talking shit, Wrex! See where it gets you!"

"Hah! That's what I like about you, Shepard. You never back down, even when you should!"

"Yeah, you _would_ say that. Now cut the chatter! We should be close to the colony by now!"

Wrex grinned, following her order with an ease about him.

At the fore, Garrus called, "You were right, Commander! Zhu's Hope looks to be just around this corner and down the hall! I see friendlies standing guard, taking cover down the way! Area looks secure!"

"Good work, Garrus!" replied Shepard, pushing ahead. "All right, let's get in here and take a look around. Find out why the geth are attacking. If the colonists don't have answers, we'll search for alternatives. Everyone, stay behind me and stick together unless I say otherwise. Keep an eye out."

We each gave her our acknowledgment, following Shepard as she led the way through Zhu's Hope.

Finally free from the structures we had trawled through, this late-morning glow over the colony blended in with the rest of the cement I was used to. An almost heavenly light shined through the clouds, with the sun trying its hardest to brighten Feros on this stubborn, dreary day. Yet this place remained bereft of much hope or brightness of any sort. Only the Prothean towers beyond seemed in better shape.

Pockets of structural damage and electrical fires soured the scenery in every sense.

No one that Shepard spoke with had any useful information, preoccupied as they all were:

The humans we passed standing guard—they struggled to wield their guns, fearful that the next geth attack would be the end of them.

Other humans were on their knees, tending to the wounded and the dead piled up next to the flames.

Still others did their best to tend to the colony's water structures, power systems, and other concerns.

The housing compound we walked through held within echoes of the ill and the dying, their wailing only barely reaching us through to this hallway.

And outside of this building, the people walking by—they seemed to go from place to place in a daze, on auto-pilot so to speak. Bringing more resources to their engineers near the freighter controls; making vague complaints about their thirst or hunger, as if they didn't quite know _why_ they needed a meal.

They wandered without wandering.

They thought without thinking.

Their presence lingered around us, long after they turned a corner and disappeared.

Shepard glanced around. "Something doesn't feel right here. What's going on…?"

Kaidan quieted his sharp hiss as he grabbed his forehead.

The others didn't notice, too focused on following Shepard.

I stayed behind to check on Kaidan, yet he shook his head, insisting that he was fine. He had me continue forward with him, catching up with the rest of the team.

Spotting an armed security guard nearby, Shepard approached her, "Hey, are you—?"

The guard raged, "You! You're Shepard, aren't you? The one who was supposed to be here _weeks_ ago?! You are, I know you are! Damn you…"

"We couldn't get here sooner," explained Shepard, scowling in annoyance. "There were other matters that we needed to attend to first. I take it you've suffered heavy casualties from the geth?"

"That's an understatement! We lost our leader, Fai Dan, because _you_ just had to take your sweet time getting here! These people are just regular colonists, and I'm only a security guard! We're not equipped to handle any of this! That was supposed to be _your job_ , and guess what?! You blew it!"

Forcing a calm, Shepard inquired, "Who are you? What's your name?"

"Arcelia! Arcelia Silva Martínez. And you're Commander freaking Shepard, the unprofessional Spectre who doesn't know how to prioritize human lives over whatever other shit's going on in the galaxy!"

"Look, Arcelia, as I said—"

"—Commander, I don't _care_ what you said!" shouted Arcelia. "Do you see this heap of junk around us? You see what this colony's turned into now, because of you?! Before all of this started, I was just some rent-a-cop for ExoGeni, keeping kids from writing graffiti on the walls! Now I'm the leader of this shithole, and people are dying every day under my watch! Do you even know how that feels?!"

Arcelia continued to rant on and on.

She gave us—or Shepard, rather—an earful about the terrible situation here in Zhu's Hope, and on Feros as a whole. She spared no details, sharing her every grievance over her abject helplessness, as well as her cluelessness as to the geth's intentions in continuing to attack the colony.

I expected Shepard to fire back at her with force; to shut down Arcelia's tirade at any moment by now.

The rest of the squad shared looks of worry with me. We braced ourselves for that probable outcome.

However, Shepard said nothing.

She merely gave Arcelia a bored look of disinterest, having tuned out some time ago.

Spotting this, Arcelia shouted louder, _needing_ to break through the commander's indifference.

Taking advantage of the only pause through the speech, Shepard's apathy cut through, "Are you done?"

" _Am I done?!"_ sputtered Arcelia. "You have _got_ to be kidding me! Really! Is _that_ all you have to say?!"

"Listen, I already told you we had other things to deal with first. So now, I need you to stop bitching and let me do my job! Can you do that? Because if you can't, then I'm calling off this operation and heading back to my ship. I have better things to do than to stand here and put up with this trash."

Arcelia yelled back, "You cold-blooded bitch! You're brutal! _Heartless!_ Don't you care about what we've had to suffer here?!"

Shepard waved her hand in dismissal. "Fine, you had your chance," she declared, turning to leave. "Pack it up. We're finished here. This was a waste of my time."

Realizing that this was no bluff, Arcelia relented at long last. "Damnit, Shepard, wait! _Wait,_ I said!"

"Are you _done_ , then?" reiterated Shepard.

"Yes! _Yes!"_ cried Arcelia in desperation. "Now will you please get back here?! I need you to take out these geth… As much as I hate to admit it, you're our only chance. No one else is coming to save us…"

"Finally, some sense. Now, you said you have no idea why the geth are attacking?"

"None whatsoever…"

"Do you know where their base of operations is?"

Arcelia pointed somewhere behind her. "They're stationed out in the main ExoGeni building, down the Prothean skyway. All the workers there are probably dead by now. They sent us to guard this colony while the people here looked for anything the corporation could use. By this point, the colonists aren't going to find anything worth all that much. Still, it's not like we have anywhere else to go."

"Then we should make our way to this ExoGeni building," announced Shepard.

"Wait, not yet!" pleaded Arcelia. "Before you do that, we have other worries here. Water, food, our power supplies—all running dangerously low. At this rate, we'll starve to death or die from dehydration before the geth can take us out. Plus, the geth have some kind of transmitter in the tunnels that needs to be taken out. Could you take care of that for us first? Please, Commander… I hate begging like this."

"We don't have time to run errands, Arcelia. We're here to take out the geth. Nothing more."

As Arcelia buried her face in her hands, I felt the visceral upset of her frustrations.

I touched Shepard's arm, speaking to her, "Commander, would it truly hurt to take the extra time to aid the colonists? We have secured the area—for now, at least. Could we not also help with their supply problem? I feel their pain. This is the least we can do for them, to make up for our late arrival."

Shepard stared straight ahead with an uncharacteristic vacancy, concealing her truest, filthy thoughts.

She then amended, "We'll take care of your supply problem. Who do we talk to about that?"

Back to his old self, Garrus ribbed me.

I swatted his arm away.

Arcelia nearly managed a smile. "They're not hard to spot," she mentioned. "You'll find the people in charge of our supplies in the nearby area. I'm trying not to remember anyone's names in case they end up dead within the next hour… If you take a look around, you'll see them in no time."

"Sounds good," responded Shepard. "I should go. I'll come find you if I need anything else."

"I'll be here, Commander. And—thanks."

We returned indoors to search around, back to the long hallway leading to the various rooms.

Everyone and everything had gone silent. No suffering echoing through the halls; no wailing from before.

Kaidan began to slow down, holding onto his head again.

Shepard noticed right away this time—"Lieutenant? You all right?"

"It's just my migraines, Commander," explained Kaidan, slowing more and more. "I'll… I'll be fine."

Garrus held him steady, worrying, "You push yourself too hard on the way here?"

"No, no, it's my old L2 implants… Gives me headaches from time to time. I'm used to it, you know?"

"I don't know about that, Alenko," expressed Shepard. "Let's get you someplace to lie down. I need to assess this for myself."

"Commander, I'm fine," he insisted, his voice sounding farther and farther away. "I'm… I'm okay. I am."

"I'm not convinced."

Shepard guided Kaidan to the clinical white of a nearby room with a free bed and a few empty chairs. She had the lieutenant lie down over the bed's hard, flat surface, before taking a seat over one of the chairs nearest to him. The rest of us remained near the entrance to the room, watching as Kaidan's breathing grew unsteady within moments. Yet his conditioned remained as such, and did not worsen or grow better for as long as we continued to observe him.

After a short time, Shepard said, "He needs to stay here. I'll keep monitoring him for now. I may have to bring him back to the ship if this gets worse." She looked to Garrus. "I want you to lead the team while I'm here. Get those supplies taken care of—food, water, and power. Start off by finding those people Arcelia mentioned. She said something about a geth transmitter, too. See what you can find out."

"Of course, Commander," complied Garrus, at the ready. "You can count on me! We'll head out now."

"Right. Stay in radio contact. If you need me for backup, I'll get to your location as soon as I can."

* * *

Leaving Shepard back at Zhu's Hope left me uneasy.

Regardless of Kaidan's situation, I didn't want to leave her behind. Not for anything.

Trudging through these foul, damp tunnels outside the colony—without her—only worsened my mood.

I remained near the back of the group as we fought more geth, battles blending into one another. Garrus led us at the fore, praising our skills and pushing us forward. Without Shepard here, we were less organized, less focused on impressing her. Straight shooting and casual power usage took precedence over our coordinated explosions, making this whole thing take much longer than it should have.

We had disabled the transmitter some time ago, preventing the geth from communicating with one another about the state of the colonists and their survival. In between these repetitive battles, we searched for ways to restore those supplies.

Taking cover behind a short wall of concrete, I found myself resenting my earlier suggestion already.

Here in this spot, safe from fire, I couldn't stop thinking about Shepard, about the night before.

But then, Wrex took it upon himself to interrupt my daydreaming, approaching me.

I busied myself with more shooting. Conveniently enough, I found that Ashley was almost in my direct line of fire somewhere in front of me. I edged my pistol farther away from her, not wanting to start a scene. This felt useless, anyway, as she, Garrus, and Tali seemed to have things under control up there.

"You're looking pretty comfortable over here, Liara," teased Wrex, bending his large frame over to take cover with me, with part of his kinetic barrier brushing off enemy fire. "Mind if I play hooky with you?"

I gave him a stern reminder: "Wrex, we're in the middle of a fight!"

He laughed. "You're telling me!"

When I continued shooting, and continued ignoring him, Wrex wouldn't accept that. He was clearly interested in speaking to me for some reason or another. And so, he decided to take it upon himself to keep breaking the ice, in the hopes that I would change my mind.

On purpose, Wrex shot just near Ashley's shields, close enough to snap at her with heat—

And close enough for Ashley to shout over her shoulder at us, "Check your fire!"

"What's going on back there?!" demanded Garrus. "If Shepard hears word about any friendly fire, that's my neck on the line! So keep the peace, will you? Let's get the last of these geth down and move out!"

Wrex sniggered in amusement.

I scolded him, "Was that really necessary?"

"Nope, but it sure was funny," claimed Wrex, before throwing the final geth up in the air with his biotics. "There, they're shooting the last ones now. We can get out of these tunnels soon. Stinks down here."

Finally, the gunfire ended—for the time being.

We resumed our search for the alpha varren, as he had run off earlier from his last location.

Nearly twice my size, Wrex trudged alongside me, observing me.

Unable to keep ignoring him, I asked, "Is there something you need?"

"There is," said Wrex. "Wanted to ask you some questions—if you don't mind. You're touchy today."

"What answers could I possibly have for you?"

"Well, let's get the obvious out of the way!"

I rolled my eyes. "Yes, you _heard_. Last night. I am certain it was very amusing to you."

Wrex smirked, knowing, but only briefly. "Yeah, it was," he replied, level-headed. "Not in the way you're thinking, though. Always figured you and Shepard had a thing for each other. Glad you two finally did the deed. Sounds to me like it was well worth it. She's got a knack for impressing me, I'll say."

"You mean, you already knew?"

"We all knew. Since day one. Everyone except Ashley. She's still acting like this is some huge shock."

Why did no one tell me _before_ if it was that noticeable?

"It's real simple," continued Wrex. "When you and Shepard are in a room together, there's sparks flying everywhere. We see it, all the time. Reminds me of some old love tales I know from my clan…" He sighed, dejected. "I won't bore you with those. Tali might want to hear about them. I'll ask her later."

"When you mentioned your clan just now, you sounded so…sad about it."

"Hmm, yeah, guess so. Living with the genophage—that's what it does to you. I'm proud of my clan. Proud to be Clan Urdnot. But we lost our real pride long ago. Now we're just guns for hire outside of Tuchanka. And if we are back on our destroyed rock for a homeworld, all we do is fight. It never ends."

I wondered, "Is this somehow linked to me? To the commander as well?"

Wrex found much pain in asking me, "What's it like, Liara? To be that… _passionate_ about something?"

My heart broke for him. "Wrex…"

"Listening to you two, it got me thinking too much. I learned to shut off my emotions, see? Stop caring about most things. Guns, killing, and earning credits—that's it. Nothing else. You and Shepard make me wonder what it's like to have those kinds of feelings again. To not be so…desensitized to the galaxy, to the problems my people suffer."

"Krogan apathy does seem to be an epidemic," I noted. "At the same time, I don't blame you for living the way you do. The genophage is an insurmountable problem that your people face. If the solution feels impossible, then why dwell on the issue at all? Better to focus your attentions elsewhere…"

"That's how I dealt with it for the longest," agreed Wrex.

"Until now?"

"Until now…"

"But, Wrex…why us? Why has _this_ awakened such an existential crisis in you?"

"Wasn't only you two at first," he explained. "Hanging around with all of you crazy kids, you make me laugh every day. Wasn't expecting that when I joined up. Not one bit. Makes me feel like there's a way out of the hell we krogan suffer year after year. Then I heard that _passion_ from you two! That—undeniable thing. I realized I feel something similar for my people. It's just buried deep right now."

"What would it take for you to feel that again?"

Wrex knew: "Hope. I wish I had hope. Like when I was younger, when I believed there was a way to solve this mess. Then I got older, more cynical. I stopped believing. Never stopped caring, though."

"Perhaps you shouldn't punish yourself for caring," I suggested. "If you forgive yourself for feeling the way you do, that may help. Whether there is a solution to the genophage or not, would it really hurt to accept your emotions, instead of fighting them? The rest may be able to resolve itself over time."

"Huh, yeah… Sounds like you may be right, Liara. Turns out you've got some good insight on this stuff."

We then smiled at one another, so unexpected.

My smile soon faded, however, once I remembered that Shepard wasn't here with us.

Wrex nudged me, recommending, "Why don't you give her a call? Check up on her and Alenko."

"Yes, I'll do that now. Thank you, Wrex…" Dialing into the group's frequency, I wished that she and I had our own private means of calling one another—"Shepard, are you there? Is everything all right?"

Wrex, along with Garrus, Tali, and Ashley all listened in as well, staying silent.

No one needed to _ask_ why I had decided to call her.

" _I'm here, Liara,"_ replied Shepard, warming me. _"Kaidan's resting in that room. His migraine hasn't gone away, but it's not getting any worse, either. I'm taking a look around the colony. These people are trying to act normal. I don't buy it. Something's off about them. It's like they're hiding some secret here."_

I needed to know first—"How are you doing?"

Shepard paused, knowing that the others listened in. _"I'll tell you later. Status report."_

"We are hunting for an alpha varren at the moment, Commander. His meat will help the colonists with their current food shortage. Aside from that, we are making short work of the geth out here."

" _Good. Keep at it."_

There was so much that I wished to say to her; so much that I could not say to her, not right now.

Listening to the sheer space between us, I picked up on this unusual feeling…

I asked once more, "Shepard, how are you?"

Buying time— _"Are you worried about me?"_

"I am _now_ , yes," I said, unable to keep my emotions out. "Is there something wrong? Please…tell me."

Another pause, and then she dimmed her voice low, bristly: _"…I have a headache, too. Not sure why."_

I reminded her: "You didn't sleep at all last night."

Shepard insisted, _"No, it's not related to that. I'm awake; I'm fine. This just came out of nowhere."_

"How bad is your headache?"

Lower, deeper, _"It's…bad. Actually started earlier when that Arcelia wouldn't stop yelling at me. It's gotten worse since then. I'm only walking around now through brute-force. And these fucking things—"_ Shepard sniffled and blew out air, her nose irritated. _"What are these spores everywhere? This is allergy hell! Why did my intel on this place not mention any of this shit? Someone dropped the ball, big-time."_

"Shepard, that doesn't sound normal at all," I worried, making eye contact with Garrus. He nodded to me; we all began hurrying back to Zhu's Hope. "Where are you right now?"

" _I'm watching this engineer over here by the freighter crane controls. She's acting like she needs to fix the control panel so badly, like the thing is broken. Looks fine to me. I'm going to move this crane and see where it leads. I swear, if they have some illegal, hazardous materials stashed underneath this place…"_

"Commander, I don't think that is the best idea—"

"— _I'll be okay, Liara. Focus on getting that alpha varren, and then come back here. I'm heading out."_

"Shepard, wait! Please don't do this!"

The way my heart dropped as she dropped the line, our _only_ line to speak, to stay near one another…

Tali looked back to me, confirming the worst: "She cut all communications to her omni-tool. You're right—this isn't normal. She was acting so strange…"

Ashley bolted ahead. "We'd better move it! _And fast!_ Shepard's in trouble!"

"Ah, shit," fretted Wrex, preparing himself for the run.

Garrus rallied everyone, "Let's get back to the colony, now! Double-time!"

* * *

That putrid smell from the tunnels: it compounded and expanded as we neared Zhu's Hope once again.

Inhuman sounds from the human colony: wailing, howling, and a curdling of pungent liquids deep within the throats of the beings that now neared us.

Bipedal, lunging, burned skin, and limping toward our group in hordes—these creepers assailed us, blocking our entry. The colonists that had once been here at this entrance, standing guard—they were no more, having either fallen or turned into these _things_ , just like everyone else.

Rippling shots from Ashley's assault rifle blasted at them first, head-first. "Punch through!" she ordered. "Make an opening! I don't care _what_ these damned things are! Kill them and find Kaidan. _Find Shepard!"_

Garrus and Wrex joined me in following suit, firing off our guns and abilities in an unfocused frenzy, tech and biotic in a cacophony at once.

Each time these creepers died, they let out more of that putrid, rancid acid in their wake.

We stepped over it all, onward into the colony, past the flames, the rubble, the corpses, _all._

Tali stepped back, hesitating, shotgun in-hand. "But what if… What if they've turned into these…?"

"There's no way, Tali!" barked Ashley, pushing forward; mowing down an entire wall of creepers. "It's those spores the commander mentioned! The colonists have been exposed to them for way longer than Kaidan and Shepard have! They _can't_ have turned! They're here somewhere—focus up and find them!"

Sensing Tali's lingering doubts, Garrus spoke to her as he fired his own gun, "The chief's right! We can't hold back, not for anything! Now come on, Tali—we need your help to keep pushing through! The freighter is just up ahead! Kaidan should still be there!"

Wrex nodded to Tali, caring.

I gave her a single look that spoke to my need to find Shepard, _soon_.

Hiding her fears away, Tali moved ahead with her shotgun, bolstering Ashley's flank.

During this push, I took stock of my own worries, wondering why I hadn't lost myself over this.

Considering this, _really_ considering it, I found solace in the bond that Shepard and I shared together. I found something tangible to hold onto: this undeniable feeling that she was still alive, that she was still out there—near here—somewhere, someplace. _And she was herself._ I could feel her heart palpitations and the quickness of her migraine-pulsing thoughts, all transposed over mine, quicker and quicker; matching this rush I felt from battle; convincing me that she wasn't all right, but at least she was _alive_.

We had our connection.

Primal, primitive—I had marked her as my territory last night. Lines drawn, I'd made myself clear.

Shepard belonged to me.

I knew that she would fight back if I said the words out loud. She was our leader. She had too much pride to face otherwise, to accept anything else. Yet the fact remained:

_She was mine._

I fought with this conviction, accessing a new skill floor with my biotics—one that I had been avoiding.

As a mirror of my new strength, a powerful blast of biotics blew out as bright blue from the housing compound. Creepers decapitated and sent flying, the corpses scattered across the ground in front of us. That unknown substance reeked out from the corpses, bubbling as ooze—a rotten, compost-like stench.

Kaidan limped out from the building, gripping his head.

"Lieutenant!" said Ashley, hurrying over to support him. He nearly collapsed against her. "Kaidan, are you with us? Are you okay?! Have you seen the commander?"

"She left…a while ago," he muttered. "I fell asleep for a bit. Woke up to one of those _things_ trying to claw my face off… No idea where the heck they came from. _God,_ my head's killing me…"

Garrus surveyed the area. "Looks like they're gone for now."

"Shepard is still missing," worried Tali. "She mentioned a freighter crane and a control panel. We need to find them if we have any chance of following her trail! Oh, I hope she's all right…"

Wrex pointed out, "Alenko's not looking too good. Think one of us can escort him back to the ship?"

Ashley pulled up her radio. "Shore party to _Normandy_. Shore party to _Normandy!_ Joker, do you copy?"

Joker responded, _"I hear you, shore party! I was just about to call you guys! We've got a bunch of zombie-things pounding at the hull, trying to claw their way in here! It's crazy!"_

"How many are there?" asked Ashley. "Can you hold out?"

" _Uhh, there's literal waves of these nut-jobs out here! But yeah, the ship can hold 'em. Don't recommend fighting your way through this crap, though. The odds aren't looking too good for extraction… Hey, hang on! Ash, why are_ you _calling me? Where's Shepard?!"_

"We're…looking for her. We got separated, and then those things attacked. I'm guessing she went looking for the source. We're doing our best to catch up."

" _I don't like the sound of that one bit. Just find her and get back here, all right? We'll hold on for as long as we can!"_

"Copy that… Williams out." She then looked to all of us. "Looks like that escort is a no-go. Kaidan, can you hang on for the rest of the mission? If we take out whatever's causing these spores, I'm betting that'll make your headache go away. Shepard's probably found it by now. I really don't want her fighting that thing all by herself."

"Yeah, Ash," promised Kaidan, taking deep breaths. "I'm okay. Locating Shepard's our top priority."

"Right. Let's take a look around—see if we can find that control panel the commander talked about. And we should stick together. There might be more of those creepers on the way…"

We all fell into step behind Ashley as she took point.

She searched with a quieted vengeance, leaving no corner of Zhu's Hope unexamined.

I allowed her to do this, on the outside, ceding this control to her. Inward, I remained focused on my link with Shepard. I felt that I was close to a breakthrough, to being able to tap into her sight and her other senses, even from this distance. If I could feel her, as one, then that would help me find her…

_Seeing through Shepard's eyes, disoriented, I saw her view of the cement-ceiling far above. Feeling through her, I felt a similar cold, hard cement under her back, the pop of her spine rolling against the ground as she moved in place, breathing hard. I saw the fit of her stealth suit over her arms, her hands—how those same hands, she used to push at someone on top of her._

_That someone: an asari with unnatural, green skin and feral face markings; the tight, form-fitting, black-striped uniform belonging to an asari commando; and eyes blackened with her attempts to penetrate Shepard's mind—succeeding, but not fully._

_Behind the asari, looming far overhead, was a massive, squid-like creature, its many dark tentacles lodged into the rise of the landings, keeping it in place. Its control over the asari made plain, it sent more creepers toward the scene to overwhelm, to dominate, to conquer._

" _What keeps the Thorian at bay?!" hissed the asari, deranged as she fought to keep Shepard down. "You are powerful, indeed! Yet your mind should be pliable to the Thorian's influence above all else—ripe for the taking! Who denies the Old Growth's will? Who has indoctrinated you, marked you as their territory with such childish anxiety, such sickening desperation?! Tell me, human!"_

_Struggling hardest, Shepard kicked the asari back. "Fuck off!" she cursed. "Stay the hell out of my head!"_

_Finishing the job, she then shoved the asari down the bottomless drop beneath the Thorian—_

_Only for the creature to open its mouth, rancid ooze seeping: another green asari appeared, an exact clone of the last. Plopped out over her feet, the clone grinned at Shepard with a wickedness, determined to penetrate her again—to keep raping her mind until the Thorian found its control over her._

_Nearly flanked by the legion of creepers hobbling closer, Shepard had no choice but to cloak and run._

I ran off, breaking away from the group. I knew exactly where to go.

"Liara?! Hey!" called Ashley after me. "Damnit… Everyone after her! She could be onto something!"

Rounding the corner behind the housing compound, I found that control panel.

I sensed that she had been here at some point, but…

Tali rushed ahead of me to the panel. "Someone tried to destroy it!" she said, surveying the cracking electricity and sizzling smoke. "Hang on—I'll do what I can to get this working again. If we can lift this crane, then that should lead us to where Shepard is!"

Breathing hard with adrenaline that was not my own, I stared at the structure nearby. This was the final obstacle in our way. This was all that stood between us saving Shepard, or her falling to the panic and chaos underneath us, far underground.

In the near-distance, I heard that inhuman howling, _again_ —tenfold _._

"We've got company!" announced Wrex, pulling out his shotgun. "It's those creepers!"

"Tons of them," noted Garrus. "They're coming from both sides of the freighter! We're surrounded!"

The sheer number of those things was unlike anything we'd seen last time.

As much as I believed in our team, we didn't stand a chance against something like this.

That Thorian must have been controlling these creatures. We had to kill it in order to make this all end.

Losing my patience, I focused my energies on this single obstacle. Locking my biotics to it, pulling at it—I worked everything I had against this immeasurable weight. Determined to lift it up and out of the way, I defied my own boundaries, needing to get to Shepard, to protect her, to get her out of harm's way. I couldn't let her die like this; I couldn't let some other _thing_ take her away, to take her mind from me!

Ashley hunkered down with Garrus on the left side. "I'll hold this flank with you, Garrus! Kaidan, Wrex, defend the right side! Don't let them get through to Tali and Liara!"

_Cloaked and hidden, Shepard remained in a corner near a set of stairs, collecting herself._

_Prowling creepers ran right by her, searching in scores. That asari clone joined the horde in their trek, determined to find her. The Thorian hovered over this game of hide and seek, its immense size taking up the entire space beyond the walls and endless stairwells, watching the proceedings._

_Tugging pain against the very tissue in her brain—Shepard could not remained cloaked for much longer. Not without great risk. Although her head no longer throbbed with the pains of a migraine, her abused implants now posed a much greater threat._

_Struggling to keep her breathing steady, and quiet, she looked around._

_The Thorian's tentacles remained lodged within certain spaces of the landings. Clamped against the cement surfaces, the creature maintained its equilibrium over that long drop, preventing itself from falling into the unknown abyss far below. Destroying its hold over the landings would have surely caused the Thorian to fall to its death, ending the onslaught of those creepers, as well as the asari clones._

_Pushing herself to remain cloaked a while longer, Shepard retrieved her sniper rifle from over her back. Silent steps, silent breathing, she crossed the space to the nearest of the Thorian's many limbs. This king of limbs, she needed to take down, even if she was forced to do this alone. Avoiding more creepers and the maniacal intent of that clone, she soon reached an adequate location to shoot from._

_Ignoring how impractical it was to fire her sniper rifle from this point-blank range, she shot the limb._

_Cries of pain and wailing, gigantic size flailing, the Thorian suffered the blow—the first of many._

_A single, powerful shot. She could fire only once, get the job done, and then move without being spotted._

_Uncloaking for a second after firing, Shepard had refreshed her tactical cloak implants, before going invisible once more. The enemies followed the source of the noise from her shot, nearly discovering her. Dodging them all, Shepard slipped around them, head over to the creature's next weak point._

Ashley and Garrus on one side, Wrex and Kaidan on the other—they continued to hold the line, even as that line shortened and thinned with each passing minute, each passing shot.

Brute-forcing with my biotics, I had made a dent in this structure, lifting it, but not nearly enough.

Tali made a breakthrough with the repairs—"There, I've almost got it! If I can tweak this a little more, Liara, you'll have an easier time moving the whole thing! I only need a few more minutes!"

Pistol in-hand, Kaidan fell to one knee. "Damnit, not now!" he cursed, grabbing his head again. "Why— _why_ is it telling me…to do this?! She's my friend!"

Ashley yelled over her shoulder, "Get it together, Alenko! We need you!"

"Argh, this pain—it's too much! It won't stop… Won't stop, not unless I…!"

"Kaidan, whatever it's telling you to do, don't do it! Fight it, LT! You hear me?!"

Alone on his flank, Wrex resorted to moving into melee range. Headbutting, close-range shooting of his shotgun, smacking creepers away with the sheer strength in his arms—he was powerful enough to hold his own. Yet the raw numbers of enemies was bound to wear him down after a while, inevitably so.

I pushed my biotics as hard as they could go.

"Almost there," muttered Tali in concentration, focusing on the control panel. "Nearly there, nearly there… I just need to—" Her shields rippled in protection from sudden gunfire her way. She shouted in a panic: "Kaidan! What are you doing?!"

Ashley nearly snapped her neck as she turned around. "What the—?"

Nearly breaking my own focus, I could only watch as Kaidan fired his pistol at Tali again.

Tali ducked behind the control panel, taking cover. "Are you insane?!" she screamed. "Have you lost your mind, Kaidan!? I'm on your side, remember?" He fired at her again. "Damnit, stop shooting at me!"

"Lieutenant, stop!" ordered Ashley, approaching him, assault rifle drawn. "Alenko! I'm warning you!"

Garrus, also in close-range, stomped on a creeper's head as he bellowed, "Do you need me to step in?!"

Wrex added, mid-headbutt, "I'm a little busy here!"

Ashley told them, "No! You two, keep holding our flanks! I'll take care of this!"

Distracted as Kaidan was, firing at Tali in a mind-numbing repetitiveness, he left himself open:

Ashley balled her fist with her full anger—anger over his thrall, over his betrayal; over something else.

She punched the lieutenant's jaw, knocking him out cold.

"That did the trick!" called Garrus, fighting harder to hold the line by himself over there.

Tali sighed in relief. "I'll say… Thanks, Ashley."

"Yeah, no problem," replied Ashley, standing over Kaidan's unconscious form. "Must be some kind of mind control with those headaches… He might wake up and start shooting at us again. I won't take any chances. I'll stay here while the guys do the heavy lifting. Speaking of that—"

Creaking of metal, weight cracking and crumbling against the force of my biotics; safeguards and locks bending and breaking. The obstacle moved at long last. Lifting this higher, I threw the impossible weight of this crane off at a distance, listening as it crashed into a faraway flame somewhere.

With that crashing, I ran down the stairs, delving deep underground to find Shepard.

"Well, damn!" praised Ashley, watching me run off once more. "Liara, wait a minute!" Knowing full-well that I wouldn't wait for her—not while I could feel Shepard's presence, nearing—she changed her plans: "Tali, keep an eye on Kaidan! If you have to, help Garrus and Wrex if they're about to get overrun. I'm going after Liara! Whatever's down there can't be good… Hopefully Shepard's still in one piece!"

Tali agreed, "Right, I'm on it! You go on ahead!"

Bolting down to this lair of concrete, I primed my biotics, ready to run into more of those creepers.

Or that asari clone.

Arriving at this familiar platform, all I found was the Thorian looking down at me from its precarious perch. Only a single one of its limbs remained tangled above, supporting its weight over this impossible drop. In such a vulnerable, perilous position, this creature could but challenge me with a look alone.

Somehow, Shepard hadn't fallen victim to the Thorian's thrall. Not as the lieutenant had.

And now I knew for certain that she hadn't: I heard another shot of fire from Shepard's sniper rifle, from somewhere up above. Loudness ricocheting off of these cold, hard walls, the Thorian's rumbling, falling, wailing joined that cacophony, ear-piercing in turmoil. That gigantic size of such an ancient-looking being—the Thorian fell from its perch, fell to that unending dark down below; fell to its ultimate death.

Those far-off wails from the creepers ceased—both from here in this underground opening, and far above-ground where the others were.

Searching around, I called out, "Shepard? Shepard, are you there?! Please, answer me!"

"Liara?"

Up on the landing above, I spotted the commander looking winded, but untouched from her stealth.

Holstering her sniper rifle over her back, Shepard vaulted over the railing in front of her. She then landed on her feet with that same ease and comfort I remembered. Limping a bit, she walked toward me, standing strong as the eternal sunlight she was to me, as always.

I crossed the distance between us first, gripping Shepard around her waist; not caring about this smell.

Shepard was here. _She was here_ , finally, and she was safe. I could breathe again, no longer needing to wring our connection dry simply to keep a hold over her. I could allow my heart to beat again, knowing that she was here with me. Because without her, I couldn't function. Not even my own involuntary functions could work as they should have, on that automatic timing. I had been on fumes without her, on-edge without her. I had lost some part of me, and now I had it back, brighter than before.

Tentative, Shepard held me back, whispering my name this time, "Liara…"

I held her even tighter. "Don't ever do that again… Please, don't."

She could find no promises to give me, no words other than—"I'm sorry I worried you."

I hadn't _just_ worried.

She knew it, too.

Her speechlessness gave away how much she knew, how much she sensed of me.

Right along the top of my head, I felt the way Shepard's pulse pounded against my crests in yearning.

More than that, I felt a change in her.

Something within her mind had grown, shifted. Or perhaps there was something there that I had never noticed before. Something that, to my mind's eye, felt and tasted like that asari clone that had violated her, probing her mind with such viciousness. Whether intentional or not, the asari had given Shepard something of her, something of the Thorian.

Whatever it was, this new article felt distinctly Prothean, shifting Shepard's mind as such.

More footsteps from the stairs, approaching us:

Ashley found us here, quite unable to look up from the ground.

"Ashley," said Shepard, ending our embrace. "You made it."

"Yeah… Hey, Skipper. Glad you're okay. Then again, can't say I'm surprised. Griffons never die, after all."

Shepard asked with an ease about her, "A griffon, huh? Is that what you think I am?"

Ashley smiled to herself. "Yep," she murmured. "Anyway, what happened? How _did_ you survive?"

"It wasn't easy. I had to take out some giant…squid-thing. A Thorian. It was trying to get into my head."

"Explains what happened to Kaidan," recalled Ashley. "He went off the deep-end… Started shooting at us. I had to knock him out cold. I'm guessing he'll be fine once he wakes up."

Shepard nodded. "You made the right call, Chief. Kaidan should be back to normal in no time."

"And if he isn't…?"

"Then I'll deal with it if I have to."

Ashley listened far above. "I don't hear anything from them. Hopefully they're recovering after the fight. Should we get going?"

Shepard surveyed the area first. Spotting something along a nearby wall, she retrieved her sidearm, approaching the anomaly: a large, pulsing sac that looked like it once belonged to the Thorian. I sensed life within the flesh there. Someone was in there—someone no doubt associated with that unknown creature the commander had disposed of.

Collapsing from the sac, an asari commando appeared, caked and coated in the transparent sludge from within the space. Skin of violet, struggling to stand; this person seemed normal enough. Yet those green clones had been of her. I recognized the pattern of markings over her face, so feral.

Shepard aimed her pistol down at this asari commando's head, primed to shoot.

"Commander Shepard, wait!" pleaded the asari, holding her hands up. "I am not your enemy! Please, you must understand—those clones of mine who attacked you, that was not of my own will…"

"How do you know my name?" asked Shepard.

The asari chanced making eye contact with her. "When my clone melded with you, I learned… _you_. I learned all that I could about you, Commander. I understood why the Thorian was so angry with you, as well as with the one who clings to your mind. I only wish to offer guidance and assistance."

After taking a moment to reconsider, Shepard holstered her gun. "Fine," she accepted. "Who are you?"

Standing now, and stepping away from the fallen sac, the asari replied, "My name is Shiala. I am— _I was_ a disciple of Matriarch Benezia." She regarded me. "And you…you must be her daughter. _Liara_. She kept many photographs of you, many records of your accomplishments. She looked over them often, usually with regret. I believe she misses you dearly after you parted ways. She would like to make amends."

I turned away, not wanting any reminder of my mother at a time like this.

I refused to look at Ashley, as well, who glared at me in such disbelief, in such a hateful awe. At last, she had _some_ measure of understanding about me, even if it had not come firsthand from my own words. Even so, she and I had no reason to make amends at this point—the same as with my mother.

"I apologize, Liara," expressed Shiala. "I served with your mother for two hundred years. I still remember the day you were born—how you brought Lady Benezia such joy. But…if you would rather avoid this matter, then I will abide by your wishes. Please forgive me."

Shifting the topic, Shepard questioned, "Shiala, what are you doing in a place like this? If you served under Liara's mother, how did you end up here?"

"When Lady Benezia decided to join Saren, she hoped to guide him down a gentler path. After she gave each of her disciples the option of staying or leaving her side, I chose to join her. However, Saren eventually twisted her, corrupted her mind with his unnatural influences. Following that influence, I was sent here to communicate with the Thorian with my biotics, in the hopes of gaining something."

" _Something,"_ repeated Shepard, rubbing her head. "You gave it to me, didn't you? Or at least, your clone did by accident."

"Yes, the Cipher," confirmed Shiala. "It is the endemic, ancestral memory of what it means to be a Prothean, to think like one. It is their collective unconscious, spanning many generations. After melding with the Thorian, I also gave this gift to Saren, to aid in his quest to find the Conduit. He knows that you are following his trail, Commander. And so he sent the geth here to destroy all remnants of the Thorian, to prevent you from locating it or the Cipher. He did not count on what happened here today."

"Yeah, well, the Thorian was pretty pissed at me. I had no choice but to find it and take it out."

Shiala explained, "The Thorian was not a predatory creature. In fact, it had long outlived the Protheans, and it had preceded their existence as well. This is how it had the Cipher in the first place—through direct knowledge of the ones who came before. It was once content to remain here, refusing to draw attention to itself. However, your presence frightened it, threatened its very survival. It had to act."

"What, by giving me a headache? Trying to infect me with its spores?"

"The colonists who lived here had also been infected to some extent. The Thorian guided the humans to protect it, to keep any outsiders from locating its presence here. You may have received the usual side-effect of that headache, yet you were not fully compelled to act in the creature's thrall. It is…strange."

Shepard remembered: "Your clone said something to me… About how I'm indoctrinated already."

Shiala paused in humble recollection. "Yes, this is true," she agreed. "It is as with Lady Benezia—she is in service to Saren's thrall, a slave to his will. This is due to the massive vessel they travel with: the ship named Sovereign. That very ship causes a similar kind of indoctrination in its subjects. However, the one the Thorian sensed from you is different."

"Different how…? And how the hell am I indoctrinated at all?! I feel fine! I feel like— _me_. So how can I be under someone else's control?"

_Control. Sex. Spoken word. Domination._

_Trust. Subspace. Resisting outside influences. One mind, one master._

"I am afraid I can only speculate, Commander," answered Shiala. "From what I observed, your existing indoctrination prevented the creature's spores from infecting you, as they infected the colonists. You felt the overwhelming attempts from the Thorian to control your mind. And yet you were kept safe, as you are already under someone else's control. Just as I had only one master in Lady Benezia—not Saren, and not Sovereign—you experience something similar, but on a much deeper level."

"Yeah, but…weren't you a slave to Saren, too? You had to be indoctrinated! You weren't only following Benezia's orders. You did what Saren wanted when you melded with the Thorian."

"Unfortunately, yes, that is correct…"

Shepard asked in frustration, "Then how am I any different from you? What's the big deal here?!"

Shiala gave us her interpretation: "Commander Shepard, unlike me, and unlike many others, your will is stronger than any steel. Your mind is set within the oldest, toughest of stones. And the… _taste_ surrounding your indoctrination—it is elevated, but in chaos. It is of the gods. As if the person holding onto your mind views you with that greatness, lifting you with the very determination of those gods.

"As ancient and as wondrous as the Thorian was, I sense another, greater vastness in the powers that now protect you from outside influences. These powers, once-dormant, have been activated by a different Cipher that now resides within your mind, bringing about this chaos. Your powers thrive off of this separate Cipher as much as they are utterly repulsed by its mere presence. It is a Cipher that no ordinary person would come across—only one who has thoroughly studied, obsessed over, and made it their life's work to fully understand the new gods who are now in chaos within you. That is all I can discern."

In Shepard's silence, I felt the strength of how much she wished to look at me.

She hesitated, and doubted, as did I.

Of the gods…

Of the goddess? _Athame?_

I had not devoted my life's work to studying Her. And so, if Shiala's speculations were correct, this person could not have been me. Aside from my habit of expressions— _by the goddess_ —I was not remotely religious. I had rebelled against my mother's efforts in attempting to make a religious scholar out of me. So this was not, could not have been me…

But if it was _not_ me, then who else could it have been?

"Liara, Commander Shepard—I see that you are both troubled," observed Shiala. "However, please know it is possible that I am mistaken. After all, I can only describe this taste. I can only define how things appear from this unknown person's point of view. And even then, this is skewed further by causes I cannot know. Were I able to see the situation from the outside, with my own eyes, as well as with the knowledge I have gained from the Thorian, I could perhaps offer a more truthful summary."

"Don't worry about it," offered Shepard, sounding distant. "Looks like I'll have to find out more on my own. Maybe Saren will have the answers I need—or the Conduit, whatever it is. I'll keep searching." Collecting herself, she then asked, "What about you? The colonists are all dead. I'm pretty sure my team killed just about everyone on this planet who turned into those creepers. Where will you go?"

"If you allow it, I will find my own way across the galaxy. In learning you, you have piqued my interest in these gods, this alternate form of indoctrination. I would like to discover and learn more about what we have discussed here. Should you give me permission to do this, perhaps we will meet again one day."

"You don't plan on going back to Benezia?"

Shiala mourned, "No, I cannot… Her mind belongs to Saren now. Although, I do hope that you can bring an end to her suffering. She also has information that may be vital to the success of your mission."

Shepard looked to me. "Liara? How do you feel about heading to Noveria next?"

I gave her the only answer I could: "You know that I shouldn't avoid my mother any longer, Commander. I would like to settle things with her. As soon as possible. After this conversation, I feel that I need to."

"Understood. We'll get the others, head back to the ship, and leave to Noveria as soon as we can. Shiala, you helped us out, so you're free to go. Hopefully we can all find the answers we're looking for."

Shiala bowed her head to us. "Thank you, Commander. May fortune smile upon you."


	7. Nearer Stars to Sunlight

" _Song of the Ancients (Devola)" from NieR / "As They Enter" from Mass Effect 2: Lair of the Shadow Broker_

 **VII.** Nearer Stars to Sunlight

_(Liara)_

Returning to the ship with the team, Shepard did not immediately tell Joker to set a course for Noveria.

Instead, she joined us all in the med bay, having helped Wrex limp his way here through his injuries. Tali and Ashley supported Garrus, who was also in bad shape after fighting so hard to protect us. I used my biotics to lift and hover Kaidan's still-unconscious form alongside me. Thankfully, the geth had fled from Feros as soon as the Thorian had fallen, and so we'd had no need to fight through more of them on the way back to the _Normandy._

Already waiting for us in the medical bay, Dr. Chakwas directed us to set Garrus, Wrex, and Kaidan over their beds. She then did what she could to tend to their immediate needs, assessing the severity of their respective conditions. Even in her trained calm, I was able to sense her confidence that our team members would be all right, and that they would recover soon enough.

Shepard waited with me near the entrance, along with Tali and Ashley.

We stayed here in silence for the twenty-or-so minutes it took for Dr. Chakwas to let us know:

"They will make a full recovery," she informed us, patching up a gash over Wrex's hump with medi-gel. "It's clear that Garrus and Wrex overexerted themselves in battle. The exhaustion's ailing them more than anything. Thank goodness they weren't in an actual gun fight. I may be telling you a different story in that case. All they need now is plenty of time to rest."

Dr. Chakwas then went over to Kaidan, scanning for his diagnostics with her omni-tool.

"As for Lieutenant Alenko, his vitals are returning to normal. Though I'm concerned about his mental state. Not that I believe any direct leftovers of that Thorian will cause any issues. It's the aftereffects I'm worried about. He won't be able to forget what happened. It may take a toll on him."

Tali reasoned, "But, it wasn't his fault. He was clearly under the influence of that _thing!_ I forgive him for shooting at me. I would never hold it against him. Won't it help if I tell him that once he wakes up?"

"It will, Tali," counseled Dr. Chakwas. "Yet I know the lieutenant. He won't be able to forgive himself."

Tali accepted the assessment with a heavy heart.

Ashley turned away, furtive, with something clearly on her mind.

Shepard remained direct, "Dr. Chakwas, keep me updated on his progress. Depending on how bad it is—if he's not fit for duty, I may have to take official action with the Alliance. I'll accept full responsibility for putting him in harm's way like that."

"That is noble of you, Commander," remarked Dr. Chakwas. "However, there was no way you could have known what awaited on that colony. This isn't your fault, either. In any case, I will need you to help me monitor his progress. How Lieutenant Alenko behaves here on the _Normandy_ will be entirely different than how he performs out on the field. Please keep a close eye on him as well."

"Understood."

"And Shepard, there is something else. It's about you. Although, I know how very _fond_ you are of my medical advice, so I won't force you to have this discussion with me now. Instead, I must ask that you allow my patients to remain here with me during your next mission. You and I will speak later."

Having expected this already, Shepard replied with, "That's fine. We'll leave you to it, then. Thanks."

Dr. Chakwas smiled at us. "Thank you as well," she said. "And good luck on Noveria. I do hope that you ladies will fare better than the men have today."

Leaving the med bay, Tali, Ashley and I followed the commander to the mess hall.

None of us were particularly hungry after the mission. Still, we knew that Shepard had more to say:

"It'll just be us, then," she stated. "The four of us will take on Noveria while the guys heal up. I'll head upstairs soon to plot a course on the galaxy map. I won't have us arrive to Port Hanshan until tomorrow morning, again at 0900 hours. We could get there sooner. I'm not going to push you that hard. So before I dismiss you all, do we need to debrief? Or can we leave Feros behind and be done with it?"

By this point, everyone knew what Shepard had accomplished, taking out the Thorian all on her own.

They knew about what Shiala had told her afterward.

Though _they_ were unclear on who it was that protected Shepard's mind, she and I knew that it was me.

Yet I sensed the commander's rigidness—her need to deny it, if only to keep herself separate from me.

Tali chose to be genuine: "Shepard, I know you won't have anything to say in response… I only want you to know how glad I am that you're okay. When we first returned to Zhu's Hope and found all of those creepers, I was terrified that you had turned into one of them. Then you took out the Thorian all by yourself. I would never doubt your skills even for a second. I guess…I couldn't help worrying about you."

Shepard did not, could not respond, tensing and flexing the muscles in her jaw.

Taking the risk anyway, Tali stepped closer to her, giving Shepard a hug; burrowing against her chest.

In her sincerity, Tali reached at something in Shepard that I couldn't have accessed on my own: this unexpected surprise, of knowing that we all cared for our commander in ways that went beyond a mere distant professionalism. Of course, I knew how Tali truly felt. Of course, I saw how she held Shepard with those feelings, budding and shy as they were, not once expecting anything in return.

That she did not expect anything was what softened Shepard's expression, even in her astonishment.

Stepping away, Tali lowered her head, staring down to the abyss of this unknown—of Shepard's possible reaction, of Shepard's possible retaliation—while pulling at her hands in anxiety.

Tempering that unknown, Ashley held Shepard with one arm, side-by-side; resting her head over the commander's stiffened shoulder. "Same here, Skipper," she murmured. "I managed to push through my fears. We had to find you—simple as that. _I_ had to find you. Thinking back on it now, I probably would've pushed the team way harder if that's what it took to get you back. Sounds selfish…" Even with us here, she found the courage to weave her truth through a curious riddle: "What I confided in you about—I'm pretty sure you know what the next step is. The next thing. The only, obvious thing, with you. You don't have to keep wondering about it. It's true. After what happened…I wanted you to know."

Ashley then moved away, too unwilling to watch her cryptic clues join together through Shepard's eyes.

I couldn't bring myself to say anything, to make a gesture.

 _She already_ _knew_ —just as everyone else knew, having torn my barriers well down, all the way down.

Shepard turned around; turned her back to us.

She folded her arms in an iron-tight grip, preventing her own sentimentality from spilling out.

She stayed silent for the longest.

Thinking.

Hours and hours could have passed; days, weeks or more; and we would've stayed here for her, waiting.

Shepard knew this, and hardened her order: "Dismissed."

Knowing that her gesture went unnoticed, Ashley saluted the commander anyway. She then left to the crew's quarters. A little fraught, a little caught up in something of her own—she quickened her steps, not wanting to give herself away to us.

Uncertain, Tali looked to me first. I knew what she wished to do, and so I nodded to her in encouragement. She then hurried after Ashley, not knowing what to expect. Needing to help anyway.

Not confident enough to take the same risks, I looked to Shepard one last time before leaving to my room. Passing through the med bay, Dr. Chakwas afforded me a smile. She continued monitoring Garrus, Wrex, and Kaidan as the three of them slept on. I couldn't find the strength to return her kindness. I found that she didn't blame me, merely assuming that I was also exhausted from the mission.

Physically, I was not, somehow.

Mentally, no—I still felt a lingering high from my biotics, primed for me to push them even further.

But, emotionally…

Locking my door behind me, I leaned against the nearest wall.

Sliding to the floor of my room, I allowed the true blue of this space's hue to envelop me. To embrace me as I wished Shepard could have. I knew she was far too proud to do anything more with me. At least at this point. And this was exactly what I'd feared: that we would reach some type of juncture like this, where Shepard would prefer to keep to herself, to keep her space, to keep her individuality.

Rather than engage with me, rather than trust in me, she wished to preserve her place in the sky above.

After all, my hold over her mind was one of _childish anxiety_ , of _sickening desperation_.

That was certainly me…and Shepard probably hated that now.

After the mess my mother Benezia had made of my own mind, and of my heart, I knew that it was foolish of me to rely on Shepard to this extreme. I had to deal with my problems on my own.

But I had my confirmation—if Shepard was not willing to be in this place with me, then she and I had no business being in a relationship with one another. I had sensed this lack in her—or rather, this hesitation, her avoidance—and so I had set this boundary, to protect myself, partly for this exact reason.

I had prevented the worst, of Shepard breaking my heart with her solitary nature, but still…

This downpour, this streaming from my eyes brought me no comfort, alone.

How I wished I had been mistaken about this.

Wiping my face, my heart picked up over the sudden alert from my omni-tool. Just as quickly as my surprise had arrived, I moderated myself, reasoning with myself: this was probably only a notification from the chat room. The chat room…that only Tali, Ashley, and Joker were awake enough to use at the moment, and with so little to discuss at a time like this…

_From: Shepard – My cabin._

_Liara,_

_I'm about to call the Council now to debrief them on what happened down on Feros. I expect they'll talk my ear off for a while. They made me stay on the line with them for almost an hour last time. The only reason I have this much patience with them is because they made me a Spectre in the first place._

_In the meantime, I want you to head up to my quarters. It's pretty clear we shouldn't bother staying in your room anymore. You have official clearance and my personal permission to enter my cabin whenever you want. Bring enough of your things to spend the night, or more if you'd like, and put them in my holo-closet. Take a shower in my bathroom. If I'm still not back by the time you're done, you're free to use my private terminal to get some work done. I shouldn't be that long, though._

_Maybe you're surprised that I'm sending this. Let's just say I surprised myself, too._

_Let me know if I'll get to see you later once I'm done here in the comm room._

_-Shepard_

.

_To: Shepard – Re: My cabin._

_Shepard,_

_I almost don't know what to say. I fully expected you to let all of this pass us by._

_This is part of why I set these boundaries in place between us. I wanted to protect my heart from what I believed was inevitable. That is, your need to maintain your distance from me at times like this. When it seemed as if you would leave things the way they were, I admit, I cried over you anyway. I suppose I can't help myself when it comes to you._

_I'm very grateful for what you chose to do instead. Thank you—so much._

_I will bring what I can and leave to your room now. Please don't feel the need to rush your call to the Council for me. I get the sense that you need some extra time to process all that's happened._

_I look forward to seeing you later._

_-Liara_

* * *

Clutching my clothes close to my chest, I made this first step of arriving to the main elevator.

Selecting the topmost level—the captain's cabin—the elevator accepted my credentials. This raising motion made me smile to myself during the short ride. I never would have imagined having this permission from Shepard, and certainly not after what we had just gone through…not this soon.

I was all too happy to move forward with her, together.

Once I reached the appropriate level, I found the short distance to cross from the elevator to her door.

Locked to all else, the _Normandy's_ automated systems allowed me to enter.

Stepping into the comparatively open space of Shepard's quarters, I felt my breath catch in my chest from this novelty. The stern spotlessness here welcomed me, reminding me so of Shepard herself.

Almost overwhelming me, in a good way, I smelled Shepard's soft, smart, and smooth scent, all over her room. This blue caught me as well, everywhere, more so than anywhere else on the ship—the plain walls, the glow of the fishless aquarium along the left wall, and the overall ambiance belonging to an Alliance officer. Military-clean: I took note of the meticulous way that Shepard kept her desk organized, with even the multiple monitors of her terminal arranged at perfect, parallel angles over the surface.

Down the handful of steps and off to the right side, the square angles of her leather couch acted as an extra perimeter to the low table nearby. Across from the couch, and above the aquarium, Shepard had a massive television screen that likely connected to the wireless keyboard and mouse on the table for her video games—organized, once more. And in a corner next to the leather, I spotted a mini-refrigerator glowing an ice blue, neon color, embellished so by the aquarium lighting up the entire room.

Along the far wall was her bed: blue, white, and gray. Alliance-standard.

Perfectly-made, with not a pillow or even a single piece of fabric out of place.

Enough space for the both of us; enough space for her alone, tossing and turning to her thoughts of me.

Short of breath now, I ambled over to her holo-closet next to her bed, next to her aquarium. She had edited the user settings, separating access between hers and mine, by name. I smiled as I selected the profile she had made for me, and set in the clothes I had brought. Out of curiosity, I wanted to check hers, to see what other types of clothes she might have had. I _wanted_ to… I decided otherwise, for now.

Instead, I returned to the area near the door, and entered the bathroom. Simple, straightforward, and without as much room to move around, this area was clearly only meant for one person. Still, I enjoyed how solitary this room felt, even with the sterile silvers of these surfaces. This shower wasn't much larger than the communal ones for the crew, but the door and the walls did cover me completely.

Sighing under the gentle, warm stream of the shower water, I enjoyed how alone I felt here.

Thinking on it now, I couldn't sense that Shepard had even returned to her room, not since we'd arrived back from the last mission. She'd had no need to come back and clean up before I arrived. This was simply how she lived, how she maintained her quarters by habit. And now, I grew to love this about her.

I looked over the handful of body and hair products that Shepard kept organized over the shelves in here. Mostly body products for human men—dark bottles with straightforward fonts. Her hair care collection was more varied, with semi-transparent bottles filled with thick mousse, or herbal shampoos and conditioners. These were all foreign to me. But I appreciated learning about this part of her routine.

Her black bottle of body scrub caught my eye.

_Aromatherapy—black chamomile._

The moment I opened the top and smelled the scent, I _knew_ this was her.

I chanced using it for myself, enjoying how gentle and soothing this felt over my skin. It certainly helped to clean the stress off of my body, leaving most of the day's events behind me. The aroma itself did relax me as well, lulling me into calmer thoughts.

Behind me, I sensed Shepard's presence, already.

She merely stood there for the longest.

Watching me through the opaque glass, misted from the heat of the water.

I couldn't dare to turn around and look at her. For the time being, she seemed content to observe.

I could only hold myself around my waist, thinking back to those thoughts of hers—the ones that had frightened me so. Now, I thought of them, because I felt that same intent from Shepard's aura, in the way she watched me with such an intensity, scaled high up in pointed subtlety from her typical levels.

I remembered the way Shepard fantasized about taking me. Usually from behind, with me bent over in front of her, and usually while she wore a strap-on. Realistic, and one where she could feel everything, though 'without the mess.' And I did want that from her, yet I had caught on to some of her history here: how she was scarred by some of the heterosexual women who had lusted after her in the past, and had stipulated that Shepard could only have sex with them if she wore one of these strap-ons.

I couldn't know how many of these women she had taken or rejected. But the experience had created a fascination in her, a frustration that she learned to accept, to twist to her advantage; turning it into an envy that I had no context about, and no point of comparison for, as this was all so _human_.

She associated power in sex with that added toy—but to her, it was more than a mere object.

She linked her prowess in bed with her ability to please a woman with this particular sex toy.

She sometimes felt incomplete without it, as traumatized as she was from women viewing her as a sex object—to please them—where the absence of a strap-on meant that _she_ was absent, for all they cared.

Just under the sounds of the running shower water, I heard her taking off her clothes:

Folding them, setting them aside;

Untying the tail of her hair from the very center-back of her head, lushness falling down her shoulders.

Shepard opened the shower door, stepping inside with me, and closing it back, locking this heat in. She pressed herself behind me, the length of her hair curving right over the perfect swell of her breasts. In this small denial, she gave me something else to hold on to, in holding me around my waist the way she did—assertive in her confidence, knowing that this was entirely new for me, skin-against-skin like this.

As the shower drenched her hair down my back, Shepard tilted her head down to my neck.

Inhaling me, her breaths heating over this sensitive part of me, she soaked me even more.

And that hard whisper of hers, "You smell like me."

I trembled in her strong hold; I needed her closer.

But if I gave into her now, I might have let this moment pass me by.

"Shepard… You know how much I want you right now. Still, we should talk…about what happened."

She had prepared for this: "Liara, listen… There isn't much to talk about. Not without solid answers. I don't want us running around in circles over this. I hate speculating; I hate jumping to conclusions when I don't have all the facts. So can't this wait?"

I turned around in her hold, gazing up at her in worry.

Shepard continued to hold me with her convictions—softness of her lissome hands adoring my waist, coveting the slope of my lower back up to my shoulder blades—yet this look in her eyes was different.

In this hazy dark of her bathroom, only the silver from the walls gave off any light in here. Like the dim lighting on a gloomy, cloudy day, Shepard's eyes had caught that overcast as her own coldness. But even in this grayscale of hers, I saw the collection of rain building deep within those storm clouds, far past the spraying cascade around us: hidden, and filling wide, and brimming with a growing…love for me.

Love, as it may have been, because she chose to make this sacrifice for me. Shepard brought me to her room and pulled me closer to her, when she'd had every habit and every excuse to push me away.

Love, and much more beyond any resentment, because she chose to place my feelings above her pride.

The moment she spotted the quickening rise and fall of my chest, Shepard settled away that learned coldness of hers. She pulled me closer to her, even closer, embracing me in her adoration—as much as she had coveted me with her touch alone mere seconds ago.

"I'll tell you what I do know," she whispered. "Obviously, it's you. It can only be you. After dealing with that Thorian, I know what it's like to feel a forced thrall. To have something unnatural like that trying to get into my head. With you, it's nothing like that. Maybe Shiala shouldn't have said that I'm 'indoctrinated' by you. That brings up the wrong kinds of connotations. Like it's against my will."

"Then what should she have said…?"

"I don't know, Liara… I don't know. I'm only under your control in as much as I naturally want to please you. This is who I am. And this isn't some weird spell, or a love potion, or whatever Sovereign does to control Saren or other people. It's just…how I feel about you. How much power you have over me in…"

She stopped herself, yet I understood.

She must have felt that it was far too soon to voice this.

And, yes, I supposed it was…but I still wanted her to say the words to me.

Shepard no doubt felt this want from me, as more than the _potion_ she had mentioned. Her heart was about to beat out of her chest against me; she let me go. Breathing out, hard, she reached for her conditioner only, and poured some of it into her hand. Lathering her hair with the white substance, it thinned and soaped, streaking down thickest along the blonde highlights of her brown hair. She then rinsed it all out within minutes, knowing that I watched her all the while, learning more of her.

This switch, of her mental dominance over me to my emotional power over her—once again, it fascinated me to no end the way Shepard expressed such a stiff shyness, as if suddenly inexperienced.

Then again, she had mentioned that this dynamic was new for her. Inexperienced, indeed, in a way.

Once she finished taking care of her hair, Shepard told me, "I'm heading back out now. I know you're not that hungry. I'm not, either. I'll have— _something_ for us, anyway, when you're done." Whatever this something was, it lightened her lips over mine as she kissed me. Stronger than this morning, this fluttering in my chest grew, with her lightness as a mere illusion. "…I'll see you in a bit."

I smiled at her.

Shepard bit down on her own smile in an endearing awkwardness, not quite forcing a scowl.

She then left the shower. Grabbing one of the towels hanging nearby, she covered her body before leaving the bathroom, the door closing behind her.

I leaned against the silver of one of the walls, enjoying the warm water for a little while longer; enjoying this everlasting memory of Shepard's presence here with me, and of how she had controlled herself, again, instead of forcing me into doing anything more with her. She showed such understanding in her restraint, in her consideration for my feelings, surprising me over and over again with her tenderness.

* * *

By the time I dressed myself in a simple T-shirt and fitting pants, the only thing I dreaded was actually leaving the bathroom. That brief, equalizing moment when leaving the heat of the mist to the relative chill of the next room, I couldn't stand. Depending on my mood, it felt like a sudden snap freeze. I didn't like the cold very much at all. So I prepared myself for that discomfort as I left through the door.

Shepard had turned up the temperature in her quarters, but I would always be far too sensitive to this.

As soon as I felt this expected freeze, I found Shepard walking up the few steps toward me. She wore a sleeveless, white tank top, and black shorts that ended right below her knee, both fitting her in a slender boyishness, always with that duality of hers. In that same duality, she had a serious look on her face by habit, and yet she surprised me with the indigo blanket she held in her lean arms.

"Here," offered Shepard, wrapping me with the soft cloth of the blanket. "I hate it, too. I remembered when I left the shower before you." Cocooned in her hold and in this softness, I smiled wide against her shoulder. I felt her jaw moving again and again along the side of my head, as she kept biting at her lower lip, controlling herself. "…you're really cute, you know. I mean, you always are. This is… _more_."

"Thank you, Shepard," I spoke against her bare skin that smelled of her same smooth scent, striped by the white of her top. "You are very caring, and extremely sweet—when you want to be, that is."

Her deepened voice thrummed through her chest. "Hmm, don't let anyone else hear you say that."

I laughed. "Why? Would it ruin your reputation?"

"You're already turning me into some virtuous person I never thought I was. I wish you'd let me keep at least _some_ of my usual personality."

Shepard contradicted her apparent wishes, in the best of ways, when she brought me to sit on the couch with her. She had opened a bottle of that wine she'd mentioned before—the white wine from Earth, though I couldn't pronounce the name the way that she had. Washed and glinting with lingering water like morning dew, she had settled a variety of freshly-cut fruits into a bowl, sugared and sweet.

Her large television screen was on across from us, set to what I assumed was her very old, non-virtual reality video game. On the screen, I could see an Alliance blue background, a drell character on the left side, rows of text options, along with an image of our galaxy separated into its official sections.

I did like the calming, atmospheric synth music that played as she idled here in this menu.

By the time she had me sit down along the edged corner of her couch, I realized that I couldn't stop smiling over everything, cradled as I was here in her blanket.

Shepard raised her brow at me, amused as she wondered, "What's with you?"

I giggled again. "Shepard, did I not say how sweet you are? You've surprised me once more."

"When I _want_ to be, yeah," she echoed, holding up an empty wine glass. "You want to try some?"

"Yes, I'd love to," I accepted. Watching as Shepard poured the wine into the glass with a subtle elegance about her, I wished to know: "You mentioned that the wine is from Earth. What did you say the name was? It sounded like it was in one of your homeworld's other languages."

"Sauvignon Blanc," she repeated with ease. "It basically means white wine that comes from this specific grape." She handed me the glass, grinning as I sipped the white-gold alcohol in tentativeness. "The language is French. I know enough of it to get by without translation programs. Interestingly enough, Normandy is a region in France. It's the site of a famous operation from our long war history. Didn't happen in the same region that the wine is from, but still." Pouring a glass for herself, she asked me, "Do you like it?"

"Mmm, it's quite pleasant," I noticed, savoring the taste, as well as her penchant for fascinating trivia about her homeworld. "It is not as strong as I thought it might be. The level of alcohol is…relaxing."

"Depending on your tolerances, it'll creep up on you. White wine usually makes me sleepy. I'm okay with this one, though. Moscato works for me, too."

Finding that this flavor had grown on me quickly, I asked her, "Do you not enjoy red wine?"

Shepard made a face. "Too bitter."

"You prefer sweet to bitter, then?"

Shepard procured a sliced strawberry from the bowl. "Yeah, I do," she said in a low rasp, offering the fruit to me. "I'm not really a typical _girl_ about these things. Hard to pin me down." I let her feed me, enjoying this added taste and sweetness; enjoying even more the way her fingers bent and fanned out in that same, quiet elegance of hers, of such tranquil femininity. "But, about this topic of girls, women—it feels like there's an elephant in the room. Or an elcor, I guess, if you have no idea what I just said."

Pleased by her consideration, I told her, "I am familiar with this human saying of yours, Shepard. And I have to agree, yes. Tell me what you're thinking."

She sipped some of her wine, studying me first.

When she found no expectations in my eyes, Shepard let me know, "I get that you have a broad understanding of my history. I like that I don't have to go over it with you. It's funny, though—before I met you, I had sworn off getting involved with anyone else. Lasted a good few years where all I did was focus on work, or my video games. Then everything changed."

"Would you say that this is a positive change?"

"Most of it is positive. I'm still adjusting to the rest."

Curious, I asked, "What are the positives, then?"

Shepard fed me again. "I keep surprising myself, like I said in my email," she recalled, watching me lick my lips as I chewed, slowly. "When I was younger, relationships seemed like they were all about keeping score. Who was right, who was wrong. Whose fault it was. Who was she; she said, she said. So I'd keep my pride to avoid how shallow everything felt. I wanted to avoid the reality that that was all I could hope to have with someone—that shallowness. You're the exact opposite of that. You actually _want_ me to get deeper with you. Whenever I tried with other people, I ended up destroying them."

"I feel the same way," I admitted. "At least, from what I observed in other relationships around me, they seemed to be absorbed with those surface-level concerns. This is why you are my first, Shepard. I chose to avoid everyone before I met you. Even if it meant suffering their predictable gossip about me."

"What gossip?" she asked, scowling in anger for me.

I frowned over the memory. "In my sophomore year of university, one of my classmates asked me honestly if I was asexual. She and her friends had convinced themselves that I must have been, since I kept to myself so much and never attended social events. They could not fathom the idea that I was just not interested in the same things that they were."

"Seriously? Even if you _were_ asexual, who cares? It's none of their business! That's fucked up."

"I grew used to it over time," I said, glad that she cared this much. "I suppose this is why I became so obsessed with my research. The data never judged me."

Shepard wished to know, "What about with our team? Aside from you-know-who, how are you getting along with everyone?"

"The current crew on the ship have all been very kind to me. And I have found unexpected friends in our teammates. I am closest with Tali. Garrus enjoys teasing me in good fun. Wrex was not necessarily a friend before, but a conversation we had during today's mission changed that. During downtime, Kaidan is rather distant toward me for reasons I am unclear on. You-know-who is obvious."

"And Joker?"

"Joker is… _Joker."_

Shepard laughed. "Yeah, I guess he is," she agreed. "As long as he's not acting like an ass."

"Never that, Shepard. I believe he respects me more because you do. In a way, I do consider Joker as a friend. It is only difficult to tell when he is being serious and when he is not. He is also prone to arrogance from time to time. Though I suppose that is simply part of who he is."

"He's got a chip on his shoulder because of his brittle bone disease. I've always seen it as his coping mechanism. Joker's the best of the best at what he does, so I have no reason to complain about whatever else. Besides, he has a lot to prove out here, much like a certain someone."

That elephant in the room. "Ashley, yes."

For some reason, Shepard gave me a charming smirk. "There's that edge in your voice again."

Edged harder: "You find this amusing?"

"Not… _amusing_ ," she tried to amend. "What can I say? I like it when you don't hold back."

"Shepard, I don't like this part of me. Does it not remind you of the shallowness we once avoided?"

"It doesn't, no. It's…different. You're not unloading your jealousy over me like it's the end-all-be-all. I get the feeling you're trying to understand all of this. Even if you do hate it. So, ask me whatever you want."

I did want to understand.

And I had many questions.

I only feared that Shepard would grow less tolerant of me once I began voicing these problems of mine.

So I suggested, "Would it be possible for us to continue this while you play your game? I would like to watch you."

"Yeah…we can," said Shepard, baffled. "But, why? You don't want my full attention?"

"Not necessarily…"

"I mean, I can play this game with my eyes closed. I'm not gonna be all that distracted. You sure?"

I nodded to her.

Not wishing to push the issue, Shepard settled her lips over my forehead, comforting me, before turning her attention to her game. She was about to explain what everything was, until she looked over at her keyboard and mouse atop the table. Deciding that she didn't feel like using those tonight, she retrieved her wireless controller from a drawer next to her mini-refrigerator, and returned to the couch. In between reconfiguring her preferred inputs and restarting the game, she looked to me.

I sat closer to her, right next to her and against her side, still covered by the blanket.

"I think you'll want more of this," noted Shepard, pouring more wine into my glass. "And the fruit. You can have as much as you want." She set the bowl next to me, on my other side, opposite her. Controller in-hand, she then explained, "As I'm sure you noticed by now, this is a retro game. Old school, non-VR. I like it a lot, though. It's pretty much our galaxy today. Almost two hundred years ago, these human developers somehow predicted everything we have going on in our current year of 2183. I think that's why it's so much fun to me. Like, how did they know all of this back then? It's crazy."

I wondered, "What type of game is it?"

"It's a third-person shooter. Kind of an N7 simulator. You play on a team with up to three other people, killing waves of enemies. I'm not too hot on the limited enemy factions. We can only fight against geth, beefed-up Cerberus goons, and mock battles against the Alliance military. Gets a little repetitive."

"Do you only shoot?" I asked, watching as she cycled through several characters of many different races and specializations: drell vanguard, krogan sentinel, human engineers. "I see some biotic characters."

Shepard frowned. "I'm not that great with adepts," she told me. "Plus, they're better when you're on a pre-made team, where you can coordinate biotic explosions together. I play by myself. That means I get matched with random people. We shoot, we complete objectives, and then we win. Usually."

"Usually?"

"You'll see what I mean…"

Shepard selected a level twenty male quarian infiltrator. She confirmed that she had an N7-grade sniper rifle equipped on him, and then went to find a random match. Though I had spotted a _geth infiltrator_ among her choice of characters! How could she play as a friendly geth when they were also an enemy faction? Was it possible for _any_ geth to be friendly instead of hostile? How did Shepard feel about these concepts, seeing as how we had fought against several geth on our mission against Saren thus far?

I had so many questions about this, too.

She quickly found a lobby of two other players so far, with one remaining slot for someone else to join. I noticed at the top that the difficulty was set to Gold, which I presumed was quite challenging. Although perhaps not challenging for Shepard, as she had expressed how comfortable she was with this game.

During the wait, I watched as she selected equipment for her character, giving him various bonuses such as more damage for his sniper rifle. She then returned to the list of other players in the lobby. The image, or the banner she wore had designated her as a Sniper. I also saw that she had a much, much higher N7 rank than her teammates. But no one left the lobby, so I supposed they didn't mind.

I took note of her gamer profile name—Vespair.

Shepard knew that I noticed. "This is special information, by the way," she informed me. "No one knows my profile name. No one except you. It's why I play alone. If any of the crew found out who I am, I'd have to deal with their friend requests and all of that bullshit. I don't wanna be bothered."

I sympathized, "Of course, Shepard. I don't blame you. I promise to keep the information to myself."

The fourth player finally joined. Someone named Infiltrait0rN7. And they were a geth infiltrator!

Yet Shepard made no comment of it. Instead, she checked herself as ready for the match alongside her teammates. After a brief countdown, their characters all loaded into a map of an Alliance base on Vancouver, on Earth, and the fighting soon began against the Cerberus faction of enemies.

I sipped more of my wine, greatly impressed as I watched Shepard's impeccable gameplay.

As she ran around the map, cloaking and sniping, she always knew where to go. She always knew exactly where to find more enemies, able to predict where they had gone or where they would spawn next. She also used her character's ability to highlight enemy locations, more so to help her teammates see them.

She fired off seamless headshots with ease.

She did not appear to care about vantage points, sniping at medium-range; sometimes at close-range.

Despite the overwhelming amount of Cerberus enemies rushing at her and her team, she never allowed herself to be surrounded or pinned down, always staying on the move.

Without complaint, she revived her teammates during the almost comical amount of times they were knocked out over the course of the match—except for that geth infiltrator, however.

The geth held their own, assisting with revives and bolstering Shepard's flanks as needed. They were not nearly as aggressive as Shepard was with kills, appearing to be more interested in supporting her, regardless of whether she noticed or not.

"You are very skilled at this game, Shepard," I praised. "Though I am not surprised in the slightest. Still, it is enjoyable to watch you play."

"I like hearing that from you," she admitted, grinning, before firing off another headshot.

I noticed such confidence in her precision as well—"You never hesitate."

"Hesitation is defeat."

How insightful of her…

Shepard changed the topic, "So, let's have that conversation. You know, about Ashley. We can play twenty questions if you want. I have to see where this goes. Too curious for my own good, probably."

"If you're sure…"

"I am, babe. I want you to feel comfortable with me."

I smiled over her continued sweetness. "Well, then, I will start with the obvious—do you feel that she likes you in that way?"

Shepard stiffened a bit against me, still shooting. "Yeah… It's more than a _feeling_ , though."

"How do you mean?"

"I mean, I _know_ she does. I can't get into all the details. Let's just say she's not that subtle."

"Does it bother you?" I wondered. "Knowing that she wants you. She is your subordinate, after all. And not like me. I suppose it is different, as you are both in the military. There are rules."

"Rules against fraternization. I think that's the main reason why she hasn't _really_ tried to come onto me. Aside from all of that…it doesn't bother me that Ashley feels this way. I had suspected something for a while, though. I dismissed her as yet another one of those curious straight women who 'liked' me."

Knowing what she meant, I asked, "If you know how she feels, then why did you label her as such? Does she only have a history of dating men?"

Shepard paused, wording herself carefully—"Yes, but as I _think_ you know, I tend to attract women who want the best of both worlds with me. I'm not sure if that's what she sees. Maybe she does."

The most painful question: "Shepard, are you attracted to her?"

"Honestly?"

"Yes, honestly… Tell me. Please."

Shepard took a moment longer to consider her words, and then she told me, "Ashley is an attractive woman to me. She's tough. She's dedicated, dependable. She's confident—in most situations. She's beautiful. I'll admit—I even like her bitchy attitude. You know I have a thing for women who are _real_ with me, and that's part of it. And I'm sexually attracted to her. Anything more…I don't know."

Hmm… "In a different timeline, would you get to know her more? Would you have sex with her?"

"If I didn't know you, and if she and I weren't in the military together? Yeah, I would."

I tried to summarize: "So you find her sexually attractive, and yet you are unclear on anything more?"

"It's not that much of a contradiction, Liara. Or at least, I don't think so. You're attracted to women—don't you think Ashley's attractive?"

Scowling, I replied, "Not at all."

Shepard stopped herself from laughing. "Not even…in an objective sense? She's hot, isn't she?"

"No, she isn't. I strongly disagree. In fact, I am quite confused about this. Regardless of the fact that she and I are from two different species, I don't see how you find _both of us_ attractive. She and I look nothing alike."

Shepard shrugged and smirked, admitting with a swagger about her, _"Fine is fine_ , Liara."

"Even if what you say is true, I am still unable to see what _you_ see in her."

"Babe, you can't tell me Ashley isn't hot!"

I believed I understood now. "If you mean that _anyone else_ could find her attractive, then perhaps so."

"Okay, now we're getting somewhere," accepted Shepard. "I get that you're turned off by her. When I thought she was racist, I was turned off, too—big-time. But now…" She grumbled. "Then again, if she heard us… If _anyone_ heard the way I'm talking about her… Ugh, they'd never let me live it down."

"Shepard, please speak freely," I requested. "No one else is listening. I want you to be open with me."

"Right… I don't want to disrespect her, that's all. Whether it's her or any other woman—I can't do that."

I wished to keep this going: "I get the sense that you have avoided pinning down your feelings for her."

Shepard confirmed, "Yeah, that sums it up. I have to keep my distance. I'm her commanding officer. But a lot's changed in the past few days. I'm starting to rethink this giant gap I keep between the two of us."

"What do you mean?"

"Before I found out for sure that Ashley likes me, I just did my best to ignore the clues she gave. The way she'd compliment me, and praise me all the time. She was a little bitchy when Tali first joined, like she was jealous. Every now and then, I'd get turned on by her voice. Or I'd spot a look in her eyes, giving away how much she wants me. I tuned it out as much as I could. It's much harder to do that now."

Listening to this description of Ashley's habits did somehow arouse me, though I didn't understand _why._

I asked, "So, what changed…? What helped bring you to this point?"

Sitting in the lobby once more with those same random teammates, Shepard listened to the comfort of the game's ambient music. As absorbed as I had been in our conversation so far, I'd missed her results screen from her previous match. I had no doubt she'd placed first with her score. Although, this was a cooperative game, so I supposed the score didn't matter to her all that much.

She then revealed, "You opened me up, Liara. You made me reckon with myself. You showed me my own contradictions: how I act like a lone wolf, but I care way too much about making sure that the people around me are taken care of. Whether I wanted to or not, this spilled over to other things that I had no intentions of ever changing. You didn't open one door in me. You opened almost all of them."

"That does sound quite profound," I expressed. "Are you…angry that this has happened?"

"Not angry… I'm confused. Like, _why_ _now?_ I don't like caring this much. About anyone."

"But you do care, Shepard," I pointed out. "You do. _You care._ You are incredibly caring and protective, and not only with me. Our team knows this about you, too. If this is part of you, then why fight it?"

Shepard chose not to answer me right away.

She played another match.

Though even as she played, and played so very well, I felt her mind and her heart lingering on my question. She knew that my concerns were not rhetorical. Not in the slightest. I did want an answer. I did not want her to continue running away from her own feelings, even if Ashley _was_ involved this way.

Her character ran and ran—cloaking, sniping—but she was not him.

Her secret support-admirer followed after her the whole time, yet she still did not notice them.

Feeling more of the effects of the alcohol, I leaned against Shepard's shoulder. I could feel every movement from her arm against mine as she pressed the buttons over her controller. A bit hazy and warm from only two glasses of her wine, I didn't want to fall asleep. I didn't want to let this momentum, this opportunity leave overnight as we slept. I needed us to keep talking about everything.

I had no idea why I was so infatuated with this topic.

Getting inside of Shepard's head in this way was unlike anything I'd ever experienced before.

Her psychology gripped my own. Her existential troubles tugged at my heart. Her private worries hadn't diminished her unyielding veneer I knew so much of, because I saw that as yet another part of her, too.

For as much as she tried to dismiss them, our team meant more to her than she would ever admit.

I hadn't brought up Tali. Her crush on Shepard seemed very innocent in the grand scheme of things.

This situation with Ashley mesmerized me the most, if only because it spoke to Shepard's restraint.

Shepard was here with me, getting to know _me_ , spending time with _me_.

No one else.

She had chosen me, and she had decided to put up with my double-standards, all to have me to herself.

But because of my sickening desperation, I could not get Ashley out of my head. If she knew how obsessed I was over the mere thought of Shepard having her, she would have found some way to hold it against me. I was fixated, I was infatuated, and I was _obsessed_ , all because of the obvious inevitability… The clear truth that Shepard would be attracted to others, as she already was. The plain, unchangeable knowledge that I could never have her in a vacuum, removed from the rest of the universe.

I craved that impossibility anyway—of having Shepard completely to myself—like a child chasing after the sun.

If this was how Shepard felt about her own confusions and frustrations…then I couldn't blame her.

Once she finished the match—placing first by a wide margin—she turned the game off.

Setting our empty wine glasses over the table, Shepard moved with a pensiveness I didn't recognize in her. She set the bowl over the surface as well, eating the last of the fruit there. So silent in her manners as she ate, I couldn't even hear her chew or swallow anything.

When she finished, Shepard looked me over, watching the way I watched her.

Then she said, "I'm gonna give you my current answer about this situation with her. All right?"

"I am listening, Shepard," I told her, curious as to her choice of words.

"Ashley wants an idealized version of me. The legendary Commander Shepard. And I'm sure she fantasizes about _just_ _how far I can go_ when ordering her around. I'm perfectly fine with letting things stay this way for now. I'd rather not interrupt her with the truth."

"That is fair," I replied. "And I will keep it in mind. I only wonder why this is your _current_ answer."

"I don't want drama, babe. If I'm choosing to be open with you like this, can we be cool?"

"Yes, of course," I promised, holding onto her arm closest to me. "I need to know everything about you. Down to the last…intimate detail. No matter how it might make me feel. I will never hold your truths against you. I couldn't. I can't… I will instead do my best to be more accepting of her."

Shepard found her calm, accepting my promise into her heart.

"Okay, well…the reality is that I do care about Ashley as a person. She's not what I labeled her as before. I only put that label over her to protect myself, anyway. Now that I'm open like this, I'm going to start caring about her more whether I like it or not. I know that I'll be tempted by her. She's very sexy to me."

I certainly noticed, posing the rhetorical, "Then we will have to see what happens with her, won't we?"

"Some advice, Liara," she offered. "I may not know a ton of personal details about Ashley, like her younger sisters' names or what she likes to do during her spare time. Doesn't matter, though. I know her type. She's easy to read. By now, she knows that you and I are involved. So she's going to needle you, try to figure you out. She _will_ get in your business and see what she can learn. I guarantee you."

"I appreciate your wisdom," I responded, at a loss. "But…how do you know these things for certain?"

"Trust me—she's as obsessed with you as you are with her. Now let's leave it at that."

Gentle, with such care, Shepard bundled me in her blanket again, and picked me up.

She brought me to bed with her and had us lie down together.

Protected by this smooth feeling of her comforter layered atop her sheets over us, I let myself come down one more level from this long day.

I rested my head over Shepard's chest as she lay over her back, breathing in this dark of the night with her, swelling in the water-light of her aquarium. Black chamomile exfoliating, of course I felt these stronger pulls, of wanting to do so much more now that I was here.

But Shepard's exhaustion had caught up to her sooner than mine had. And not only from the rest of the day. I understood that our conversation had drained her, emotionally. Yet she'd given me her patience when, again, she had every reason to make excuses, and to shut down my questions and curiosities.

This kept a smile on my face as I listened to her sleepy whispers to me, finally answering my question:

"It would be easier to not care about the team… If I fail, and something serious happens to any of them, it'll fuck me up. If I don't care, then I'll be safe. I'll be fine… That's why I fight my feelings so much."

Curious once more, I asked her, "Is this why you prefer to fight alone, even when we are with you?"

Shepard hummed her tired acknowledgment. "When I'm by myself, I only have to worry about…myself."

"Then why not fight harder, _with us?"_

"Don't wanna take that chance, babe… I'll protect you all, but it has to be from some kind of distance."

"Shepard…sometimes, like now, you make me feel that you'll run off someday. You'll run into a battle you cannot win alone. We won't be able to support you. No one will be able to help. If that were to happen, I am not sure I could handle it. I could lose you…if you keep running away from us like this."

"Liara, I'm sick of that pain of losing everything. _Everything._ I'd rather…not care."

"So much so that you would run from me, too? You would put me through that pain instead? Would you really leave me behind?"

Falling asleep, still, she murmured, "If I knew you'd be safe, I'd go…finish the mission… I'd come back."

That wasn't what I meant. "Shepard…"

"I know. Tired. But… I know." She inhaled, enough to sober herself just enough, her heartbeats erratic underneath my ear; breathing out these last words before this sleep took her: "I'm just…scared. As much as I'm about to fall asleep right now…I could fall into something at any minute. I need you…to keep me away from everything else. I don't want to face it… I don't."

* * *

Lingering in my head and all through my body, my biotic high from earlier would not let me rest.

Shepard had long-since fallen asleep.

Turning around to look at her alarm clock along the nightstand, I saw that it was four in the morning. The last time I had looked at the clock, it was 3:30am. I hadn't been able to sleep. Not after drifting off for a brief time, only to wake up at around 2:00am, somehow feeling refreshed. Refreshed in this high, I did my best to observe what this was—to truly take in this newness. I felt that I was on the precipice of a new discovery, a new understanding, and so my mind refused to let me rest properly.

Ever since Shepard had fallen asleep, I'd felt something forming in my head. A ruler, a scale, or measuring tape. Anything like this, anything similar that would allow me to measure, weigh, to quantify. Data-driven as I was, I tried my best to figure out exactly why I had these tools with nothing to use them on. _Nothing_ , precisely, came to mind. And so this clock began to tick down.

Seeing specs of pale green through the dark of Shepard's quarters, I continued to wait, to anticipate.

The same pale green that the crew had recounted from the Prothean beacon on Eden Prime, in fact.

As fascinating as this was, however, I felt my patience growing thin. Having waited these two hours for something, _anything_ to happen, I needed this—whatever it was—to show itself sooner rather than later.

I lay over my back with Shepard right against me. She slept on over her back as well, not having moved at all since she'd first fallen asleep hours ago. We had to be awake in four hours, at least, in order to prepare ourselves for what awaited on Noveria, with my mother. Checking the clock again—4:07am—I accepted that I would not have the chance to sleep any more myself. I hoped that I would be awake enough for the mission. I had no desire to try one of Shepard's artificial energy drinks otherwise.

_Energy._

So much energy I sensed all of a sudden, so powerful, from deep within Shepard's mind…

I studied her, watching the way her eyes moved in rapid—normal—movements behind her eyelids. Dreaming, of course. Her quickened breathing piqued my curiosity more than anything. Short, sharp breaths she breathed out through her nose. Aggression, building.

Sitting up on my side, and facing her, I whispered next to her ear, "Shepard… Are you awake?" She continued to sleep. Though I felt the slenderness of her bare legs beneath her shorts: her smooth limbs tangling with mine covered by this tighter fabric. "What's the matter…? Why are you breathing so hard?" She breathed even harder, sightless hands touching me, roaming up my arms. Yet she remained perfectly asleep. Deep in sleep, making me wet with these possibilities. " _Are_ you asleep? Are you…?"

Turning over to face me, Shepard slipped her leg between both of mine, spreading me, making room. She then settled her body on top of mine, still asleep, still asleep. This sudden sharpness of her navel against me, pushing against me—I gripped her around her back, clamping my mouth shut to stay quiet, to not wake her. I couldn't trust myself to stay silent, not like this.

Not like this, not at all, feeling myself about to lose control.

When Shepard first took me like this the other night, she had been awake—grinding in purposefulness.

Chaos in her sleep, uncaring, forceful—this time, she fucked me, so impatient and needy in the way she gripped me, too, clutching onto me like this.

I pressed my clamped mouth against Shepard's sweating neck, recoiling and bounding against her in how uncontrollable she was, and somehow so very consistent in her irrepressible physicality.

I could keep from waking her up. The tight fabric of my pants wasn't tight enough—she couldn't penetrate me with this flat of her, as I _knew_ she dreamed of having me in such a specific way, without this tightness in the way.

Asleep as she was, she grabbed at my hips, finding this tightness.

A puzzle, a wall she rammed her head into: she grabbed and grabbed, expecting to find only my skin.

All of this, and her persistence had me whining in her ear—still trying to keep quiet, needing to know:

Shepard growled over my neck, "Liara… I can't…fucking control myself with you—"

Brute-force solution—

She grabbed at the top of my pants, clawing her fingertips against this bend of black and blue.

Lifting her waist up and off from mine, she ripped at this fabric, tearing it down, and down, and off, and off of me. Screaming in need with this tearing, the shock of this liberation alone almost made me come.

This jolt in my core, Shepard sensed, and took advantage of: she lowered herself, lowered her head between me, hiking up my thighs against the bends of her arms. The muscles of her biceps cushioned me in the seconds before I felt her whole, watering mouth against me, devouring me without thought.

Gripping her scalp, tangling her hair, I screamed more from this suddenness, knowing now that Shepard would not wake, she would not wake up. Possessed as she was in her dreams of taking me like this, she ate me with this roughness that she did her best to hide during her waking hours. Aching from this strength of her tongue stroking me, she had already found me; she already knew me.

The perfect contrast, kicking off this fetish in me: the way Shepard's hair moved and flowed against my thighs in silken weight. In that smoothness, I struck a match with this heat in my throat from all of my helpless noise, burning these sensations into my memory: the way Shepard blew out her breaths from her mouth against me; the way she used her entire head to give me mine, and not just her tongue, but angling her neck and putting her back into the thrusts of her tongue against this single spot of me, single-minded in pleasing me; and the way she muffled her own sounds against me, her voice vibrating as she struggled to breathe through this soaking wet of me, yet she didn't stop, she didn't stop.

Spiraling out of control with her, that jolting found me again—harder and unstoppable, just as Shepard was between me. That she couldn't control herself, that she couldn't wake up, that these lines had blurred beyond redemption, and that I felt the outline of her smirking lips against me in her perversions: all of it got to me, got me off in a single, crashing releasing, with this collision shaking me and breaking me apart, unravelling in Shepard's mouth.

As I did, I joined my nervous system with hers, needing to ride this high through her mind's eye:

Dreaming, Shepard was in this same position, this same state, as if watching herself watching, rippling out in an unending repetition with no true beginning. She saw her body glowing blue with mine from this melding, but again, her perception was so fragmented that she could not tell what the reality was.

In real life as in her dream, Shepard licked me from her lips, from the drip down her mouth.

In both, she used her tank top to wipe away and dry the rest, watching me come back down.

In both, again, I brought her head closer to my lips, allowing me to rest as I whispered in her ear:

"This is very fascinating, Shepard. Just as _you_ fascinate me, endlessly. Before you surprised me with this, I had a feeling that something would happen. I have been awake for a couple of hours now, waiting with that feeling. And now that I have you like this, there is more that I want you to explore. Things that I couldn't bring myself to admit while you are awake."

In reality, she continued to lie here with me, sleeping soundly.

Her dream took over, and so I made myself lucid through her perceptions:

_Much like during Shepard's episode with the Thorian, when I could see through her eyes in first-person, and when I could feel all that she had felt, she brought me into this same point of view._

_She opened herself to my fascinations, to what I wished to explore. Deeper than her unconscious sleep, I felt her permission for far more, our experiences shared through our collective understanding of one another._

_In her dream, I was no longer in bed with her. I could not see myself through her eyes. I had become a part of her, absorbed in this intimate way: to see through her, think through her, and feel through her._

_I could speak to her through her mind, where only she could hear me—'Shepard, are you there?'_

_Somewhere between sobriety and unawareness, Shepard only groaned in her sleep._

' _Open your eyes.'_

_Still in that same grogginess, I had this first-person view of her lids opening, her sight blurring before coming into full clarity. Staring off at the alarm clock over her nightstand, the time read 99:99am. An impossible hour, obviously, yet it spoke to the absurdity of her continued dreaming, even as I could speak with her like this while I was awake during this melding process._

' _Perhaps this is selfish of me,' I communicated. 'But, our earlier conversation has yet to leave my thoughts. You were right—when it comes to you, I'm obsessed with Ashley. I cannot help how I feel. I should stop fighting it. So there is more I wish to see of you. Far more, now that we are able to do this. However, I won't force you. I can't; you are not under my direct control. This is your choice to make.'_

_No desire for me to stop: only a powerful emotion, a need to know what I wanted, and to show me._

' _Stand up, then.'_

_Shepard struggled to do so, finding the floor of her room with her bare feet. As she gained her balance, I moved with her sight as she looked down at her long shorts, the boyishness of her sleeveless tank top. She knew that I intended for her to leave her quarters; even through this was not real, she remembered her logic, ruling that she could not possibly be seen like this by anyone else on the ship._

' _You needn't worry about that,' I consoled her. 'Go to your holo-closet. There is something I'd like you to wear underneath your clothes. Your strap-on.'_

_Walking over to the orange glow of the closet, Shepard fought through the remaining fog of her dream-like state. Fumbling a bit, she searched through her sets of clothing, finding the toy that I wanted. The new weight of this appendage—I felt it between her as my own, hanging, and cresting in the somewhat tight fabric of her boxer briefs under her shorts. That tightness wrapped around her in some discomfort._

_She breathed harder, though she did not grow as hard as I'd expected her to._

_Not yet, at least._

_I asked her, 'Is this new? You have not used it on anyone else?'_

_Shepard hummed her affirmative._

' _And do you have other unused strap-ons to choose from in there? To eventually use with me.'_

_The up-and-down motion of her head as she nodded, growing harder._

_She then turned around to her nearest nightstand, the one without her alarm clock sitting on top of it. Reaching in one of the drawers with hands haphazard, Shepard pulled out a few thin, square plastic packages for protection. As there was no seed to shoot out from this toy, the protection, in Shepard's mind, was only to prevent the possible spreading of infections. Again, her logic continued to dictate her actions, regardless of anything else—she pocketed the packages, awaiting my next directions._

' _Now head to the elevator. Go down to the crew deck.'_

_Attempting to walk normally, Shepard still set her hand out beside her, smoothing her fingertips along the surfaces to assist. Logical: she went to her bathroom to wash her face and brush her teeth before leaving, savoring the cinnamon flavor of her toothpaste; hating the fluoride of her mouthwash._

_During the short elevator ride, she had her hands covering her groin. Still so convinced that this was real, her self-consciousness had taken over. I sensed that she knew what I wanted her to do, further cutting down her defenses and her pride. She did not fight against me. She did not change her mind; suddenly refuse and turn back, no matter how real this situation was._

_She'd shown me that logic could pull at her throughout this surreal experience._

_None of it, or not enough of it, could convince her to stop now._

_Departing the elevator at the crew deck, Shepard stopped at the short hall, where the intersection was between the two sets of winding staircases leading to the CIC above._

_No one in the mess hall. No one in the med bay._

_No one was around—anywhere._

' _Shepard, I want you to go to the crew's quarters. I am sure you remember the way to Ashley's private room—make your way there.'_

_More awake now, yet still dreaming, Shepard headed to Ashley's room. Navigating the halls of the crew's quarters, with its many doors leading to each of the separate living spaces, I felt her need to hide. As if she would activate her tactical cloak at any moment, to prevent being spotted. In her paranoia, illusions of the other crew members resonated from behind the doors: their auras, their presence, waiting to come out and find her. In particular, Shepard kept expecting Tali to emerge from one of the rooms; from every single room. She continued imagining Tali's indignant outrage, not understanding any of this. Shepard burned with shame and embarrassment at the mere thought of Tali's judgment: accusing her of creeping around like this in her perversions._

_No one emerged from their rooms, yet the simple possibility kept Shepard's footsteps even quieter._

_When she arrived to Ashley's door, she found that it was locked._

_She stared at the red light, fixated on it._

_I reminded her: 'This is only a dream. I would like you to act on the thoughts you hold back with her. I want to see how you want her. I want to know everything about you… Including this. Of course, if you would rather turn back now, you are free to do so. You will always have that choice.'_

_Blinking light of the color change: a Prothean, pale green shined into her eyes as permission granted._

_Shepard passed through the automatic door, the low tune and hissing shifts marking her memory._

_Alone in this space, and sleeping on that same lower bunk, was Ashley, practically dead to all. She had on an oversized T-shirt again, with her lower half covered by the gray, Alliance-issue blanket from her bed. Eyes fixed on the spread of her legs beneath that blanket, Shepard noticed the way her limbs seemed to bend in such a specific way. She also saw the outline of Ashley's hand and wrist somewhere near her thigh, giving away what she had done just before falling asleep._

_Heartbeats picking up, Shepard distracted herself by looking around the room._

_Unlike our first visit, Ashley's quarters clearly looked as though they belonged to her._

_Her terminal was on another table nearby, opened to her extranet browser with several tabs—her email, both work and personal; an R &B and soul music site; vid-mail from her family; an article about differences between how civilians cleaned their guns compared to the standard Alliance practices; a glamorous lesbian pornography site made 'by human women, for human women'; collections of love sonnets and other romantic poetry; and a fan page led by someone named Conrad Verner that was dedicated to providing the latest updates on Commander Shepard's goings-on throughout the galaxy._

_On the table nearest the window, Ashley had stacks and stacks of old-fashioned print magazines with Sol on the covers: Shepard's alter ego as a fashion model._

_Her gowns, her androgyny, her avant-garde experimentalism, her tuxedos and other men's wear, and rare instances of the handful of her relationships and breakups plastered over various LGBT and women's magazines—the vastness of the stars beyond the glass glimmered over the complete variety of Shepard's life and career back on Earth._

_On the other, smaller table next to Ashley, in between the bunks, Shepard found a few books of poetry, as well as many datapads with notes, letters, and attached photos and vids. Standing next to Ashley as she slept, Shepard picked up the topmost datapad over the unkempt pile, and read its contents:_

_Commander Shepard,_

_I don't think I'll ever let you see this._

_I'm gonna write my thoughts down anyway._

_It's only been a few hours since we left Eden Prime. We're headed to the Citadel now. I'm in the mess hall by myself, and I can't sit still. I'm climbing the walls from thinking about you so much. I need to vent._

_I knew about you before we met down on the colony. I've known about you for years. Since Torfan, since your N7 training. You've always been a huge inspiration to me. And when I first saw your scowling picture years ago, I was…mesmerized by you. You're so gorgeous and intimidating, it's insane. Then I looked into you more, found out you're only four years older than me. You were an orphan back on Earth. You've seen some things. Explained the stories I heard about how ruthless and cutthroat you are._

_When we finally met, I was on pins and needles, hoping we wouldn't butt heads too badly. I knew I'd be too proud to let you talk down to me; I knew you'd be too proud to let me backtalk you. Neither of us are the type to take any kind of disrespect lying down. I honestly wasn't sure if I'd survive our first encounter._

_But during our mission, you were neutral toward me at best. You were never mean, never rude or anything like that. Well, not to me—you shook down those so-called farmers pretty good, and their smuggler pal that was hiding behind those crates. I wondered if you chose to be impartial with me since you knew I'd lost my entire unit right before you showed up with Alenko. Like, did you secretly hate me, and you were only pretending to be objective to spare my feelings? I can't really say. You're hard to read._

_I remember the way that Prothean beacon lured me in with its strangeness, like I just had to see what was going on. Then it pulled me in, hard. You didn't hesitate—you saw that I was in trouble, and you grabbed me and got me out of the way. You saved me, and then that thing almost fried your brain, made you see those visions. I was so scared for you. Dr. Chakwas said it's practically a miracle you survived._

_You were pretty pissed at me when you woke up. It was my fault you had to suffer through so much pain. You hurt me a lot when you yelled at me…but I couldn't blame you. I never got the chance to apologize to you properly, one-on-one. After Captain Anderson told you that he assigned me to the Normandy, you clearly didn't approve. You walked right by me when you left the med bay; didn't say a word._

_I'll always carry that moment with me, Commander._

_You made me feel like I didn't exist. Like I meant nothing to you. Like I was trash._

_That was when I knew I had to prove myself to you. If I could get through to you, then all of my suffering would be worth it. The crappy assignments, the dickhead COs I had before, never getting accepted into military academy, and people doubting me because I'm a proud Williams—I could finally say that it was all worth it, if only to have the chance to serve with you on this team. To show you that I'm good enough._

_But, honestly, this is such a surreal experience. You've been my idol for the longest, and now I get to see you every day on this incredible ship. Then again, you're more than just my idol… You're the one who made me start questioning myself. A lot of things about myself. I mean, I've had a couple of girl-crushes in the past, and I've hooked up with some women in secret…but it was never like this. They weren't you._

_And now, I'm stuck between this rock and a hard place: wanting you so damn badly, while needing to prove myself to you on a professional level. My heart and my ambitions clash whenever I think about you. Plus, I know you're a lesbian… I've read the magazine stories about the few girlfriends you had. They were so much prettier than I am, and they had way more money than I do… But I guess none of that matters. There's no way you would fraternize with a subordinate. God, this is tearing me up inside…_

_This is nothing like me! I'm a mess already and I'm not sure if I'll be able to handle it. Then again, you can handle anything that this galaxy throws at you… I should be able to deal with this, too. I should. I will!_

_Okay. We're about to pull into the Citadel soon. I'm heading up to the bridge to see the sights with you as we get there. I want to see how those beautiful lights reflect off of that intensity in your eyes. And your skin, and your hair, and…all of you, really. I hope I don't stare at you too much. I'd give myself away._

_A single look from you turns me on like you wouldn't believe._

_Respectfully,_

_Ashley_

_._

_Once Shepard finished reading the letter, she set it back down with the rest._

_Verifying its contents, she remembered a brief conversation she'd had with Kaidan in the command center, on their way to the Citadel—while Ashley had been in the mess hall writing that same letter:_

_Standing near the galaxy map, Kaidan had told Shepard, "Am I seeing things, or does Chief Williams know you from somewhere? She seems to be kinda familiar with you…" When Shepard only frowned in disinterest, Kaidan amended, "Okay, okay, I'll admit—I could be seeing things! Or it could be that she's heard all about you through the Alliance and from the vids, and she's meeting her hero for the first time. I don't know how; can't quite put my finger on it. She likes you a lot. Maybe you should ask her about it?"_

_Shepard had dismissed the idea: "Ask her yourself. Do you always come to your superiors with pointless shit like this? It's high school gossip. Leave me out of it."_

" _Sorry, Commander… I won't bother you with this again in the future. I was only curious, that's all."_

" _Go be curious with someone else," she had said, walking away. "Don't waste my time, Lieutenant."_

_Back here in this dream, back in this version of the present, Shepard ran her hand through her hair, breathing out a sigh polluted with guilt and regret. She'd had no idea that things had been this bad, and this painful for Ashley, even back then. And now, it must have all grown worse over time._

_Looming over Ashley's sleeping form, Shepard hesitated._

_She stared, and hesitated._

_She wanted, and hesitated._

_She fixed her sights on the thinness of the blanket over Ashley's body, over the outline of her wrist and her hand just underneath; how Ashley's hand began to move ever-so-slightly, continuing; how Ashley sighed out through her own sleep, moaning Shepard's rank and her name in such defenselessness._

_Possessed by her curiosities, Shepard moved the blanket aside. She sucked in a breath, finding that Ashley was completely bare down past her shirt. Still, that shirt was large enough to cover her hand, and to cover her inner thighs, but not entirely. Vague glinting from the stars outside the Normandy shined over the lean length of Ashley's legs, highlighting the wetness dripping down the slight tan of her skin, down to her sheets underneath her. She reached her nails to that moisture in her sleep, coating her fingertips with it, before moving her hand back up between her, touching herself again, a little bit more._

_Taking the chance, Shepard reached out to Ashley's thigh closest to her. She stopped her hand right above. Just above. Hovering over Ashley's skin and flesh. Waiting, and watching, and listening as Ashley lay there and breathed, completely unaware of her presence._

_Downward, Shepard spotted her own hardness growing out beneath her shorts, extending._

_She pressed her other hand down over this lifting, blood rushing, and pumping, everywhere._

_I encouraged her: 'This is only a dream, remember? None of it is real. You are allowed to explore this.'_

_Deploying another defense mechanism—a wall over her heart, a powerful dam—Shepard gave in._

_She touched Ashley's inner thigh, slicking her fingers against the soak of her: a thin layer of this pleasant, if not persistent musken scent. Stroking her skin, the sounds rubbed through the silent night in this room. Down to the bend just under her knee, Shepard adored the hard slope on the outer side of Ashley's leg, shaping her skin and this bend in a way that she found alluring—distinctly feminine and graceful._

_She lingered here for some time, obsessing through touch; enough that Shepard removed the plastic coverings from her pocket, setting them over the datapads atop Ashley's desk. She then took off her shorts, stripping down to the red of her boxer briefs containing this point of her arousal, leaving her tank top on. Farther down Shepard reached her hand—she admired the muscles here, strong and tight from Ashley's years of military service. And though she didn't reach her hand there, she took the time to enjoy the thinness of Ashley's ankles, both joined in this position she had her legs in, along with the delicateness of her bare, arched feet only barely covered by the blanket._

_Stroking her hand all the way back up to Ashley's shirt, she did not go for the obvious. She instead reached farther up, tracing the shape of Ashley's fit stomach underneath the white cotton, of her full breasts hidden by the same, and to her slender neck dotted with sweat, all the way up to her face._

_Leaning down, Shepard held Ashley's soft jaw with a dominant slant, at once gentle and controlling. On purpose, she did not linger here, did not take in the details of Ashley's face, the looseness of her hair._

_Shepard knew that she would have to face her again in the morning; she did not wish to remember this._

_Instead, she settled herself between Ashley's legs, getting on top of her. Not quite touching, not quite far-removed—Shepard kept her weight over her bent knees, over her forearms supporting her as she slipped them under Ashley's shoulders, holding her. She made sure her erection was not anywhere near enough to Ashley's thighs, to prevent her from feeling anything too early._

_Intentional, Shepard leaned down, more, to Ashley's lips. She kept her eyes open in coldness, in knowing the weight of her power; though she fixed her eyes to the rise of Ashley's cheekbones, again, to avoid remembering too much of this. She found Ashley's lips with her own, thick on thick and meeting in a supportive, plump firmness. Bottomless in this breadth, Shepard pressed into her more, head tilting to find more leverage, deeper. And Ashley returned the same to her in sleep, tilting her own head higher and up into this, moaning into the meaning. All the while, this dam over Shepard's heart sparked in the beginnings of a motorized fire: protected, prevented, but still shearing and igniting in more drilling heat._

_These flames loudened Ashley's moaning into a steady awakening._

_Eyes shooting open, she found her sight hidden within the cascading flows of Shepard's hair, that golden brown sheltering her from the shock of finding another person on top of her like this, but not entirely—_

" _Shepard!" gasped Ashley, breaking their kiss. "How did you—? What…?! Oh, my God… The way you look right now, you're so freaking hot—and you're here with_ me _…? There's no way…" Breathing harder, faint, she double-and-triple-checked Shepard's features, mesmerized and making sure: "Is it really you, Commander…? Is it you…on top of me like this…kissing me awake? Mmm, you smell so nice, too… I smelled this on you a few times before. Having you this close, it's…" Finding her own logic, Ashley calmed herself, reasoning, "No… No! I-I must be dreaming. That's it! This is a dream. It's totally a dream…"_

_Not wishing to confirm or deny anything, Shepard asked her, "Do you want this or not, Ashley?"_

" _Do I want this? You mean—you? You're honestly asking to have sex with me…? Oh, God—Shepard… I…"_

_The way Ashley breathed in her hesitations mixed with her wants, her needs—Shepard grunted, struggling to stay still. The undeniable sounds of a woman's voice sewn through this susurrus of Ashley's rasps, of her fears, her emotions: all joined as one, stuttering and shivering through Ashley's chest. With that stuttering, Ashley looked into Shepard's eyes, needing to see her, even if Shepard wouldn't return her regard directly; more emotion, more feelings, of disbelief, and need, and trust, and far, far more._

_Underneath, her breasts shuddered up and against Shepard's on top of hers, reinforcing, reinforcing._

_Making a point of what awaited, Shepard pressed just enough of herself between Ashley's legs._

_Easing her body into the movement instead of away, Ashley melted from the welcome surprise, moaning this time in sheer delicious delight. And she held Shepard around her back, tangling her hands and her arms through her hair, sounding out more of her pleasure, all of it only from this fore._

_Shepard pulled back, and forced her own voice to push through, "If you don't, I'll walk away—"_

" _Commander, wait!" cried Ashley, gripping her harder. "I do want it. Yes, I want you…_ Hell yes. _I just…" Breathing in, and out, once more. "This is so sudden! And I… I-I've never… I mean—_ I have, _but…"_

" _I thought you've slept with other people."_

 _Ashley sighed over this vulnerable space: "I have… Some guys, some girls. Not a whole lot… And—and we only had oral. It wasn't… Like, I would always stop things before we got too far! It never felt right, so I didn't let them do anything more to me… One of the girls—I fucked her, but I wasn't her_ first _…"_

_Tensing her jaw in her control, Shepard asked, "You're a virgin, Ash?"_

_Shuddering over the question, and over Shepard finally using her nickname, Ashley replied, "Yes…"_

_Shepard attempted to leave. "Then we're not doing this—"_

_Gripping her harder around her back, again, Ashley begged her, "Commander, no, please-please-please don't go!" She then let out a sound of frustration, hiking her hips higher against Shepard's pointed lingering between her legs. "Damnit, I'm a mess… I told myself, if I ever got the chance to do this, I wouldn't throw myself at you like some desperate whore… I wouldn't do it. Now I'm fucking doing it!" Discarding those concerns already, Ashley tried again, "Shepard, please don't leave… This feels right with you! This feels so damned right, like I always dreamed it would… I need it from you. I need you…"_

_Pulse throbbing through her neck, Shepard growled again, this time over her new dilemma:_

_She knew that there was no escaping this—especially not with Ashley tasting her neck so, sucking and licking her throbbing in this succulence, revering her in a maddened high from this fresh opportunity. Eager in that desperation, Ashley stayed at this in true hunger, pulling at Shepard's control—the unyielding bones of her, the unmoving steel of her—needing her closer, oh so much closer._

_More begging, so depraved: "Please, stay with me… God, please, I've needed you for years—ever since I first saw you, how intense you are, how drop-dead gorgeous you are… Exactly like the sun, you're so brilliant and special—I'd go to the ends of the galaxy for you, Commander." Ashley hiked herself against Shepard again, higher and more persistent, rusting at Shepard's restraint—"You could end me with one touch, one look… I want you to do it with your whole body. I need you to destroy me—to take the last of this purity I'll ever fucking have. I want to give it up to you, Shepard… Only you, only you. No one else…"_

_This gaping, open weakness Shepard had for a woman unrestrained, and needing to please her needs:_

_Ashley found it, finding Shepard lowering her body in response, and seized at this chance—_

" _Fuck, I can't stand this… You're so dreamy, Commander. You're everything I've ever needed in another person. There's no way I'm letting you go now. Please, oh please…won't you please take me? I want you to claim me, break me. I need you to make me bleed…just like I've been bleeding for you for years now…"_

_Ashley's breathing, again, with her breathy breaths laced so with the rasp of her voice: Shepard's entire body pulsed in a rage against her control. Completely uninhibited, Ashley reached for Shepard's boxer briefs. Smirking and sounding out in that same delicious delight, she reveled in this hardness shaping itself within the slight tightness of the red fabric there, pulsing harder and harder underneath her touch. She kept at it, and kept at it, bringing Shepard closer, so close, until she could almost pull her arousal right out from her boxer briefs._

" _Fucking take me, Shepard," she breathed, right in her ear. "Fuck me. Own me, finally. Make me your goddamned bitch already. You know I'm yours… I've been holding myself back all this time. I only wanted to avoid pissing you off—making you hate me—because I wasn't sure if we could ever do this… By now, you have to know I'm crazy about you. That I'd kill for you to have me. So what are you waiting for…?"_

_Caressing Ashley's hand with her own, rounding over the shape of her mounted touch, Shepard made up her mind without thinking at all._

_She then pressed her lips to Ashley's one last time, before whispering in her mouth—_

" _No, Ash. I said no." Pulling away, Shepard growled over the way Ashley could not, would not let go, clinging to her. "There's no way I'm disrespecting you like this! I don't know enough about you… I mean, you sound like you—"_

 _Holding on, holding on, Ashley admitted: "What, like I love you? Like I'm_ in love _with you? That's because I am, Shepard! I love you! God, I love you…" She found some solace in Shepard relaxing over her, barely enough to hold back her tears, shuddering hard. "Fuck, how are you doing this to me…? Why am I falling apart all because you won't have sex with me? I'm losing it… Ugh, what the hell is wrong with me?!"_

_Shepard held her, giving up on the idea of leaving, exactly—"Ashley…I'm not leaving your room—"_

"— _no, but you're going to go back to_ her _once this is over! My alarm's gonna go off in a few hours, and then this dream will end… Damnit, damnit…! No, no, I can't—I'm not letting you go, Shepard. I won't!"_

" _I'm not cutting you off," promised Shepard. "If you really want me, then you'd better make that clear."_

_Ashley needed her—"I'm gonna come after you. Hard and fast. Is that what you want? You need me to prove myself all over again? You wanna see how messed up I am for you? Because if that's what it's gonna take, just say the word. I'll do whatever you want… I'll do anything, anything at all! Please…"_

_Once again, not a single thought or hesitation—"Yeah, that's what I want, and that's what you should do. I'll listen to whatever you have to say. Just don't expect anything to change any time soon."_

" _Okay, Shepard…you asked for it. I swear, when we're not out on active missions—I'll give you my all."_

" _Good. I don't want you to hold back with me. For now, go to sleep. Go to sleep, Ash. Go back to sleep…"_


	8. Little Wing

" _Noveria" from Mass Effect 1 / "Beneath the Mask -Rain-" from Persona 5_

 **VIII.** Little Wing

_(Liara)_

Awaiting Shepard's arrival in the comm room that next morning, I found myself invigorated from the night before. Sitting in my seat, I used my omni-tool to jot down the near-hundreds of thoughts and theories I had about last night. I had already suited up beforehand in my set of all-black armor, as it was quite clear that Shepard intended to bring me with her for the mission. There was no need to waste time with gearing up after the briefing.

Silent, Tali sat in her seat nearby, lost in her thoughts. I remembered how difficult it was for me not to divulge anything to her while the two of us had eaten breakfast together earlier. I simply couldn't.

And now, I allowed my scientific mind to take over—for me to find my objectivity here, and to find the positives in what I had observed last night. I used my omni-tool to jot down my notes, my discoveries, and my findings from just how _real_ everything had seemed of Ashley, and of Shepard's perceptions of her. Thus I gave weight to the possibility that the three of us were connected beyond the normal boundaries of physical reality, of time and space…

Once Ashley entered the room in her dark camouflage armor, all-smiles, this proved my hypothesis.

"'Morning, you two!" greeted Ashley, a clear bounce in her step. "Lovely day today, isn't it?"

Tali did a double-take. "Sure…? I guess?" she questioned. "Ashley, what is this? What is going on?"

Ashley plopped down in her seat across from me. "Hmm? What do you mean?"

"When I left your room last night, you—" She censored herself, knowing that I listened. "You weren't in the best shape… I wanted to stay and talk to you more. You insisted that I didn't need to do that, and that I should go to bed. I stayed up all night worrying about you! And now you're…cheerful?"

"Oh… Sorry, Tali—you didn't have to worry about me like that… I'm okay now, I promise!"

"But how?! What changed so drastically from then until this morning?"

Ashley grinned, sharing openly: "I only had the best dream of my life last night, that's what!"

"A dream…? What kind of dream could be _that good_ to cure your problems so quickly?"

"The best dream of my life!" repeated Ashley. "Undisputed! Unchallenged! It was so perfect, Tali… Oh, man, I can't even talk about it without feeling all giddy like this! Like, did you know it's possible to smell clearly in a dream? And to taste realistic details? And—to have most of your dreams come true, in a dream, after you were dreaming a lesser-but-still-pretty-good dream? I'm over the moon right now!"

I jotted down more notes via my omni-tool, attempting to transcribe their conversation verbatim.

Tali felt the whiplash from these contrasting events. "Ashley, I'm really happy for you… I just, I don't know—this all seems rather strange. Were you experimenting with stim packs or something before bed? _I've heard_ …about some cases where peoples' dreams become affected if they aren't careful with those."

"Nope! No stim packs, no drugs! Oh—um…well, I _did_ watch something before I went to sleep, but…"

"Do I even want to know…?"

I noticed Ashley eyeing me, uncertain.

"Hey, Liara," she said, detached. "Are you listening to us right now? You look pretty busy over there."

I thought up a comeback, but felt that it would have been pointless to voice it at the moment.

Instead, I told her, "I am always listening, Ashley. But please, carry on. Don't mind me."

Not wishing to admit what she had watched the night before, Ashley instead attempted to keep me in the conversation—"It's kinda hard to do that, you know. I get that you're a scientist, a researcher, and that this is your thing. I've never seen you like this… What are you writing, anyway?"

White lies: "This is a compilation of notes that I would like to use later for my next dissertation on the Protheans. I am of the mind to contact my alma mater, to see if they would be interested in receiving more academic works from me. I will need to type up an abstract first. Before I can do this, I will need to verify the data I have collected thus far for my hypothesis. I am in the middle of reviewing my main primary source in order to fact-check my current progress."

Ashley frowned, feeling inadequate. "…right," she tried. "So what's your paper gonna be about? I mean, you said the Protheans…but that's vague. What about them?"

More white lies: "I am exploring the mystery surrounding the Protheans' shared experiences as an interconnected group of different organic species under a single empire. Given that the name 'Prothean' is that of an umbrella term for the worlds and civilizations that spanned their galactic rule, it is curious that they came to share such commonalities. Shiala's explanation of the Cipher caused me to look into the matter. It is a Cipher belonging to many separate species, all collated into shared knowledge."

"Oh. Well that sounds…interesting. What's your hypothesis?"

"The short answer is that it may be possible for different organic species to share a consciousness."

Tali chimed in, "You mean like the geth? If they were made up of different synthetics, I suppose. They _do_ share their own collective geth consciousness. It's how they are networked, and how they think and behave together. Are you saying that it's possible for separate organic species to do the same?"

"Yes, I believe so," I replied. "However, as I said, this is only a theory. I still need more data in order to verify my observations. I expect that this will take quite some time."

"Well, if you decide to include anything about the geth in your dissertation, you can always come to me for more information. I think your research sounds fascinating! It would be exciting to see if we organics could ever become networked in the same ways—unless we already are, and we just don't know it yet."

"Thank you, Tali. I'll be sure to keep that in mind. I would trust your accounts more than anything I might find in a simple textbook. I am envious of your direct and detailed knowledge on the geth."

Tali giggled. "Aww, thanks, Liara. That's sweet of you to say. I'm jealous of how knowledgeable you are, too—about everything, and not only the Protheans. It must be nice to be able to outlive the rest of us and to learn so much over a thousand years. Well, only a hundred so far in your case, but still!"

Ashley, meanwhile, had lost her high from earlier, looking quite frustrated over there.

She found some of her high again, however, once Shepard entered the room in her usual stealth suit—

Only to deflate once more as we all observed the commander, spotting how…subdued she appeared.

Standing in her place at the center of the room, Shepard looked around. She stared at each of the empty chairs one at a time. She acknowledged Wrex, Kaidan, and Garrus' absence this morning in silence. Steeling herself back to her default—somewhat, almost—she then regarded the three of us here, once again, one at a time, finding our thoughts and feelings plain, evident.

Tali couldn't make eye contact with her.

Ashley couldn't, either, for her own reasons as well.

But once Shepard looked at me, I smiled at her with love.

Naturally, she expected me to be upset, and to hate what I had witnessed from her last night.

Deep down, that may have been true…yet I chose not to linger on any of that. Instead, I decided to enjoy this unique and intimate insight I had into her mind. Even now, I wondered if she had made the conscious decision to alter her behavior, knowing that I watched, and that I may have judged her.

Whether she had or not, Shepard translated enough to me through her eyes: this slant of her brows, and the way she _wanted_ to look away, but could not.

She knew what I knew.

There was no taking any of it back.

Finding enough of her voice, she began the briefing: "Like I said yesterday, it'll only be us down on Noveria today. This place is a so-called business planet, where the galaxy's biggest corporations skirt around Council law for their own gain. The specific location we've arrived to, Port Hanshan, is Noveria's capital. Security is pretty heavy here. But Benezia managed to get through with all of her cargo, so we should be fine. She's up on a research station in the mountains, Peak 15, with her asari commandos."

Any other time, one of us would have chimed in with a comment, or a few questions—why did my mother have so much cargo? Why did she have her asari commandos with her at a research complex? And why was security so heavy in the first place? Was it to protect the corporations' secrets?

However, given Shepard's restrained demeanor, as well as the absence of half our team, Ashley and Tali weren't willing to make up the difference. Especially not with all of the troubles they had on their minds.

Shepard continued, "A few days ago, there was a Code Omega that went out across Peak 15. Someone up there is experimenting with something they're not supposed to. An official crew had to go up to investigate the alert and shut it down. They reportedly couldn't find anything suspicious. We'll need to be on our guard anyway once we get to the facility. But, the main issue will be getting up there at all."

Ashley spoke up, "What do you mean, Skipper? If the problem's up on Peak 15, what's there to worry about before we arrive? Shouldn't there be a shuttle or something to take us up there?"

That stabilizing tic of hers: the way Shepard clenched down on her back teeth, jaw flexing.

"Port Hanshan knows we're here on Citadel business," answered Shepard. "The problem is, people are going to be nervous with a Spectre around. It's clear that these corporations are out here for the not-so-ethical loopholes. If I got wind of something, I would be obligated to follow-up on what I learned."

"So, they're giving you a hard time?" asked Ashley.

"Basically."

"Oh… Right. Makes sense. They won't want to help us get to Peak 15, then. We'll have to find a way."

"Correct."

Curling into herself over Shepard's brusqueness, Ashley said no more.

Tali couldn't keep quiet anymore—"Um, Shepard… Considering half the team isn't here, wouldn't you say that this mission will be rather informal?"

"It already is, Tali," confirmed Shepard.

"Okay… In that case, am I allowed to bring up a different, not-so-related topic?"

"Go ahead."

Taking another chance: "Forgive me for asking this… But, are you all right? I don't know, you seem different today. I get the feeling this isn't about the guys being stuck in the med bay."

Shepard scowled, glancing away; arms folded.

Tali refused to rescind her question, genuinely needing to know the answer.

Ashley watched the exchange in a grave need for answers as well.

Out of respect for Shepard's authority, I resisted the urge to take more notes, shelving this for later.

And then, Shepard responded, "Not really, no. I had that talk with Dr. Chakwas. Medically, I'm fine. I don't know how to feel about what she told me, that's all."

Tali asked, "Well, what did she say?"

No supposition of whether the conversation had been private or not.

Shepard chose to be ambiguous: "She said that something about me has changed over the past month. Yesterday, once I got the Cipher, Dr. Chakwas noticed something else that accelerated the change. Shaped it. Gave it a purpose."

" _Something…?_ What is this change?"

Grappling with the reality that Tali would not let this go, Shepard thought of another solution:

"Liara, come here."

"Very well, Commander," I obliged, standing up; walking over to her.

Only a few paces apart—Shepard did her best to dispense of this suspense dragging her emotions down.

Opting for a demonstration over more words, she activated her tactical cloak. Invisible to our eyes, she seemingly disappeared, with only the shining glimmer of her cloak phasing across her body in the dim lighting of the comm room. And then, she deactivated her cloak, reappearing before us.

Visible, Shepard placed her hand over my shoulder.

This time, when she cloaked, I disappeared with her: a joined phasing of light passing over obscurity—

Just as she had done for me down in the mines on Therum, when we had escaped from the geth.

Ashley and Tali both jumped to their feet.

"No way!" yelled Ashley.

Tali stammered, "But—but, _how?_ That should be impossible! Liara doesn't have your same implants! _"_

Disengaging her tactical cloak once more, Shepard found our memories through my eyes: how they simmered in my remembrance, and now, how I found yet more explanations for the theories I had come up with since last night. This was all connected to the control, the protection, and the bond we shared.

Yet I knew that there was more.

Shepard walked over to Tali. Knowing what to expect, she placed her hand over Tali's shoulder, attempting the same demonstration.

This time, when Shepard became invisible, Tali did not join her.

Not even behind her helmet, through her suit.

Shepard then resumed her normal appearance, not at all surprised.

"Well, it…it _shouldn't_ work on me," reasoned Tali, hiding her disappointment. "Depending on how this is all wired, you couldn't get through my suit, anyway. Too much tech in the way. Unless…unless this process isn't physical at all, and I'm just not connected to you in that way. Hmm, how strange…"

Masking her dread, Shepard stepped over to Ashley, once again knowing what would happen.

Not knowing the same, Ashley only stared up at the commander, fearful of this unknown.

Delaying this, Shepard decided that now was the best time to give us more details, speaking to Ashley directly—"Dr. Chakwas has a theory. She said that I can pretty much share the effects of my implants with certain people. My instincts treat these certain people as an extension of my own mind, my own body, my own skin. It's some kind of wiring through our collective unconscious as organic species."

Lost again, Ashley needed clarification: "Our…our collective _what?"_

Rolling her eyes in impatience, Shepard repeated, sharper this time, "Our collective unconscious. You know, from Jungian psychology? Ring a bell?"

Flinching under the weight of this disapproval, Ashley tried to recall, "… _maybe_ it's familiar. I-I only took one psych elective back in college… Didn't exactly pass that class with flying colors."

Lips pursed, judgmental: Shepard had little regard for Ashley's admission.

I had learned of a similar theory back in school on my homeworld, though this Jungian psychology was of course native to Earth. Was it particularly common? Common enough to be shameful should any humans not have been familiar with this theory? Either way, I would have to look into the topic later.

Although, this exchange between Shepard and Ashley had certainly enlightened me in other ways.

Feeling this disparity between the two of them, Ashley only lowered her head.

Shepard sighed, and gave an explanation, "Our collective unconscious is our shared ancestral memory as humans. You can think of it as a giant pool of our commonalities. And each of us as individuals, we all have our own archetypes. It's something we can identify in others because of our collective psyche."

"Oh, I get it now," said Ashley, so soon. "Tali and Liara were just talking about this before you got here. They didn't mention anything about archetypes, though… Aren't those…shortcuts for describing us?"

"Yes, they are," replied Shepard, finding more patience. "I only brought this up as an example. It has nothing to do with the rest. I'm telling you so you can get a better idea here. Those stereotypes, tropes, and archetypes in general: we can spot them and discern them because of this knowledge that we all share. It's a shortcut, like you said. A mental shortcut. It's not always helpful, but it's there."

Ashley smiled a bit. "You're a lone wolf. That's your archetype, isn't it? And I'm able to make that mental shortcut because of the experiences we all share?"

Warming a bit more, Shepard confirmed, "That's right. I'm glad you're a quick learner."

"You're a pretty good teacher, Commander…"

"Maybe, maybe not. Seems to me like you just need better motivation to learn and apply yourself."

Shepard set her hand over Ashley's armored shoulder, and activated her tactical cloak.

When Ashley cloaked with her, I was glad to have yet another piece of evidence to prove my ideas.

But Ashley herself—she staggered back in her shock, well out of Shepard's reach, somehow remaining cloaked as the commander did. I could not see anything else on her except for her glimmering outline, separate from Shepard's shape that remained in the center of the room. Yet I really had no need to see her expression or her reactions. She worked to stay as quiet as possible, though she sounded as if she was somewhere between her extreme happiness from earlier and a different, obstinate confusion.

And once Shepard deactivated her invisibility, so, too, was Ashley visible again—back to normal.

Looking rather flushed, Ashley needed to say, "…so, Skipper, if our collective unconscious is only for humans…should I bother asking why this trick of yours works on Liara? Obviously, she's an asari… Then again, they were just talking about how this thing could connect _all_ organic species together… And Dr. Chakwas said the same thing, didn't she? But, it didn't work on _Tali_ , and—… Oh, man…"

"My cloak didn't work on Dr. Chakwas, either," said Shepard. "So, no, this isn't a human thing with Liara as an exception."

"Because she said it only works on _certain people_ …"

"Yes, Chief."

"And you can give these _certain people_ an extension of you. Your mind, your awareness… _Everything."_

Reluctant, yet honest, Shepard replied, "That's…exactly right."

Ashley sat back down in her seat.

She needed to process everything.

I watched that process through her eyes that had ventured off to a far, far distance from here, piecing this puzzle together. Some lingering disbelief kept her quiet as she did this. Otherwise, I felt she might have exploded from the sudden emotion of this sudden, sudden discovery.

Shepard ordered, "Tali, Liara, you're dismissed. Head to the bridge and wait there. Ashley needs a minute. Once she's recovered, I'm going to take ten. When I find you, we can go ahead and leave."

Tali left the room without a word.

Shepard sensed what I intended to do; she said nothing as I left, knowing that I merely waited near the wall outside the room, listening in.

Pacing herself as she lapped through her emotions, Ashley waited a bit longer.

Waiting for some kind of privacy in the comm room.

Waiting for her waiting, Shepard awaited the inescapable from this encounter.

I chanced peeking in the room, attempting to remain unseen. They hadn't moved from their places.

Some of Ashley's high-pitched breathing pierced through her pacing, impatient in the severity of this disaster, of this absolute shock to her system.

Her shaking voice, her hands covering her mouth in control—"Commander… _Did we…?_ Shepard—"

Unwilling to prolong this: _"Yes."_

Hiding her whole face with her hands—"Oh, my God… _Oh, my God…"_

Shepard had no more words.

Yet Ashley, even in her incredulity, needed to rationalize this:

"I had a feeling… I honestly _wondered_. I just couldn't let myself believe that you were really in my dream like that. Now you're telling me…you were aware of what was going on. _You_ _remember_ what we almost did. And we shared the same dream. The same experience. Is that… Is that what happened?"

Seeing no way to escape the truth, Shepard only nodded.

Gasping in sharpness, Ashley's face heated a bright, bright red. She clamped her hands over her mouth, harder, as if she could have kept all of this from falling out.

Mortified, Ashley then rushed to stand up, rushing herself to speak in a rush:

"Oh, my God, Shepard, I'm so sorry! I was a total brat last night—I didn't think _any_ of it was real! So I just spoke my mind and told you everything that I feel without really _thinking_ because you were there on top of me and _I_ was there underneath you and—"

She paused, recalling:

"You know everything…? You remember what I said! What I confessed?! Those three words I gave you… And how I said I'd chase after you when you gave me your permission because that's what you said you wanted—and you told me not to hold back, and it turned me on like crazy, and, and… Oh, God…"

Ashley paced around, nearly hyperventilating.

Shepard remained still, yet prepared to take action to help her if necessary.

Devastated, Ashley went on, "Oh, fuck, I was so desperate… Shepard…I'm so freaking sorry. I swear, that was nothing like me! I mean… Nothing like how I'm _supposed_ to be! And I know Liara's your girlfriend… She probably knows, and that's why she was so fricking pissy with me earlier—!"

Shepard felt my wordless request through her: that she ought to be honest about this.

Because if she held this inside, we both knew that it would one day explode. She would self-destruct.

And so she interrupted with that honesty, "Ashley, she isn't my girlfriend—"

"—wait, _what?!_ Shepard, what are you talking about!? Of course she is. She's your girlfriend! Isn't she?"

"No…"

"But… But! You— _you're screwing her_ , so—!"

"—that _doesn't mean_ she's my girlfriend! Look, it's private, all right? I'd rather you not tell anyone about this. She and I have an arrangement. We're involved. It's not official. That's it."

Ashley let out a hard, hateful exhale, trying to center herself.

"She's not even your girlfriend… I've been losing my mind over her…for nothing? No, no way…"

I gathered that Shepard disapproved of how relatively childish and immature Ashley was, seemingly obsessed with these surface-level details we had both agreed that we detested. The other imbalances between them—their respective intelligence levels, the age difference between them, and the power dynamic of superior and subordinate—likely made everything worse.

Yet even with those issues present, I saw the potential for something far greater here.

I had figured out this new intuition I'd gained last night: the measuring, the weighing. Now able to measure the strength of Shepard's mind and her will, I could tell that something of Ashley had fortified her. Such a noticeable change from before the dream until now—in my blurry vagueness, _before_ , I'd had at least some idea of the value in my care. And now it had grown, surged exponentially.

It was this particular person, no matter how petulant and unbearable, that strengthened Shepard's own resolve to remain unbending. I could not know how or why, only that it was the undeniable truth.

And so I shared with Shepard my approval to explore this with Ashley—if she wished to do so.

And I knew: if Shepard chose to run from this issue, to avoid it, this would have caused problems for us.

I could not continue having things both ways with her—not like this, and not with my scientific curiosities overcoming my personal aversions to this situation. I knew that it wasn't fair of me to cling to this false idea we had of a relationship. I had to be the better person and face reality:

What faith was there for us to have when I could not even trust myself to take that next step with her?

Besides, even if I were to suddenly declare to Shepard that we ought to be in a committed relationship now, this would have been insincere of me… She would sense this; she would lose respect for me, for us.

And this was _my fault_.

Encouraging her to do what she had done; playing around with forces we hadn't understood at the time.

There needed to be consequences, after all…

Yet Shepard chose to say instead, "Ashley, listen to me… I understand how you feel. What I did, what I said last night—I thought it was only a dream. I'm sorry for letting my guard down. I'm your leader. I'm your commanding officer. I'm not supposed to give in or be weak around you. It was selfish of me."

Straightforward: "Are you…turning me down, then?"

A question for her question: "What are you asking me for, exactly?"

"You're not in a relationship, Shepard," reasoned Ashley. "You say you gave in, that you were weak, but I don't believe that. You held back— _big-time_. You kissed me awake. You asked me for my consent. You found out I'm still a virgin, and then you… _You could have just…"_ She took a shuddering breath, shaking off her confusing arousal over such implications. "Even though it was a dream, you took care of me. You didn't treat me like some cheap slut, or… _you know._ Do you even realize what that says about you?"

Fortifying herself inside the strait-jacket of her restraint, Shepard said nothing.

Ashley embraced her anyway, gentleness getting to the core of what had grown between them.

Whispering against this forced stone of our commander, Ashley expressed: "I'm really scared to admit the truth to you, Shepard. Please…I only want you to hear me out with this." More forced stoicism, and Shepard nodded with her permission. "Look, you _know_ me. Since when do I ever act like this around anyone, over anything, except you? You're my hero, Skipper. I've looked up to you for at least five years now—maybe more—and…and I know that makes you uneasy. You know what I'm saying here."

"Speak your mind, Ashley," requested Shepard, fresh with verification that that entire letter was real.

And Ashley's emotional breathing, her feelings and her harsher rasps igniting through her breaths, just like I knew Shepard couldn't resist: " _I'd go to the ends of the galaxy for you, Commander…_ As much as you're standing here right now, with this wall, this stone, _this dam_ over your heart, keeping me out—I'm your rock, too. You can rely on me! My love for you makes me fight harder. I'm stronger _because_ of the way I feel about you. And I want to show you that… So I'm requesting your permission… For a chance."

Shepard closed her eyes in anguish, considering her words carefully.

"A chance…for what? Be upfront with me."

"What else? A chance to change your mind, for us to have something together. It doesn't even have to be a relationship…I can't ask you to leave Liara's side. The way you feel about her: I can tell, it's magical… All I want is for you and me to explore this, what we have between us now. I don't want you to shut me out. And I don't want you to act like you feel _nothing_ for me, either… I'm begging you… _please."_

Caught red-handed from this whole affair, Shepard did not have the heart to turn her down: "That's fine with me, Ashley. I'll give you an honest chance to change my mind. I'll listen to you. But like I said before, don't expect anything anytime soon. I never asked for any of this. I need some time to adjust."

Ashley held back her excitement, dousing it with this reality: "You don't sound all that optimistic… Or convinced I'd even make a dent in that armor of yours."

"It's easier to doubt you. Before all of this happened, you were like a stranger to me. I worked to keep things that way. Now you're unraveling that work. I have the right to stay guarded. If it gets to be too much, then by all means, keep your distance. I have no intention of hurting you, or disrespecting you."

Hollow with remembrance: "You don't know enough about me… You're such a gentleman."

A sinking dread sounded through Shepard's question: "Are you all right…?"

"Yes, Shepard. Never better."

Ashley pulled away just enough to observe her properly.

Though much of that red had returned to Ashley's face, she remained in a state of reserved determination. In her reticence, Ashley concentrated and consolidated the morning thus far, finding and creating a new imbalance—her own restraint in the face of Shepard's difficulties, always in that duality of hers, even as our commander fought to hide how she felt.

She had Shepard well and truly unnerved, and she knew it.

"Ashley," tried Shepard. "I need you to keep this to yourself. Whatever happens—can you do that?"

"Understood, Sir."

Pausing from that new honorific, Shepard required reinforcement, " _Promise me_ you will."

"Yes…you have my word."

Her word, Ashley laced and lingered over Shepard's mouth in a bold softness.

This continuation from last night, of that motorized heat melting away at the dam over Shepard's heart: whatever quiet contemplation Ashley expressed on the outside, she gave back this same uninhibited life through her tastes, igniting and reigniting those defenses in her way. Yet Ashley gave the same passions and curated attention that she would have given anyway, had Shepard worn herself bare and whole and unbroken. All without discriminating, without intimidating her own love away.

Even once she pulled back, Ashley never truly left Shepard's space in this proximity, staying near.

She kept her hands over Shepard's chest, adoring her face, her body in darkened esteem unending.

Ashley then spoke her mind, "Your kisses last night tasted like cinnamon, too… That your toothpaste?"

Vulnerable to such fixations, Shepard whispered, "Yes…"

"And your scent," said Ashley, angling her nose over Shepard's neck; inhaling. "It's so good… What is it?"

"It's black chamomile… Aromatherapy. I guess it's—a nice placebo, to keep me calm."

"I'll have to buy both of those for myself, then."

Ashley left the comm room, left Shepard staring after her as she went. Departing from the doorway with a deep-set scowl, she went around, far around, away from the side that I was on, as if she couldn't see me; as if it was a mere coincidence that she chose to walk around that other side. And for a brief time, she fooled me into thinking that this only happened by chance.

Inside the room, Shepard sat in my usual seat.

She hid her face in her hands, breathing in and out.

Everything about her aura signaled a need to be alone right now.

Bottling up my need to comfort her, I departed to the bridge, consumed by my patience for her.

* * *

Such a bitter cold iced through us all as we left the _Normandy_ for Port Hanshan's outdoor docking bay.

This dull freeze layered itself right underneath my light armor, making it difficult to even think. All I could do was follow the black of Shepard's stealth suit and the light swing of her long tail of light hair as she walked. Practical as ever, she must have thought to wear more layers beneath her suit, as the material was far more versatile to allow for those sorts of extra precautions. Thus she had an ease about her as she strode through this colorless docking bay, the concrete blending into the scenic view of the blizzard raging on past the docks. Highlighting the contrast of the long strip of black over the lettering of the ship's name, frostbitten blue and white blew on in a chaotic flurry just beyond the area, unrelenting.

Ashley was somewhere behind me, suffering the same fate—yet she had far too much pride to do anything more than let out a trembling groan every so often, her breaths quivering through her teeth in this freeze. Tali walked next to her, seeming to be quite well-off in comparison with her own suit. Neither of them spoke a word, too focused on getting inside through customs first before anything.

Through this freeze, I wondered how I would react to seeing my mother. Yet I couldn't begin to fathom the idea of us reconciling again after all these years, after all that had happened…and all that I still could not remember, repressed as it remained. I feared that I would recall everything at the wrong moment.

Shiala had made it clear that Benezia had had the best of intentions when she chose to join Saren, and that she was now indoctrinated, acting against her will. In that sense, my mother was innocent.

A fleeting part of me hoped that we would at least be able to free her mind, if nothing else…

No matter how unpleasant this weather was, I couldn't help admiring this place. Something about this area, indeed, held a nostalgic sense of familiarity. Following after Shepard as she led the way to the port's security force down the long path, this inside-outside scene, of existing halfway out in the haphazard winds and snowing, all while surrounded by an indoor protection—this reminded me of her.

Shepard had me off-balance in her professionalism. Not long after the upheaval from earlier this morning, she had managed to turn off all outward signs of how troubled she may have been. She chose instead to focus on the mission. She decided that anything else was irrelevant, at least for the time being, when she could redirect her energies into something more…worthwhile.

At last, we reached the small group of security officers who awaited us, right next to the glass of the doors and the windows leading to Port Hanshan's incoming customs area. Two human women, a turian, and a handful of security drones hovering above and lighting the area in their cones of vision—the organic guards appeared to want to aim their assault rifles at our team, as we were fully-armed.

Yet the woman in the center—the security chief—gestured with her hand for her group to stand down.

"Hold, Spectre," she stated, direct in her tone. "You've been cleared for arrival by Parasini-san, Anoleis-sama, and the Executive Board. However, I must ask that you and your people relinquish your weapons. This is a secure port—I won't risk any incidents by allowing you to bring in your guns and your gear."

Having expected this, Shepard kept her cool as she asked, "And just who are you, exactly?"

"Captain Maeko Matsuo, with Elanus Risk Control Services," replied the security chief. "Please don't take offense, Commander Shepard. This is a standard process. Once your business on Noveria is concluded, we will be sure to return your items to you and your team in a timely manner."

"Look, Captain, you said it yourself—I have clearance from everyone that matters here. The person I talked to from arrival controls said nothing about weapons not being allowed inside the port."

"This is true," allowed Matsuo. "They would not have mentioned it. However, due to recent events on Peak 15, we can't take any chances. Once more, I must ask that you leave your weapons here with us."

"Right," droned Shepard, bored of this. "Who's in charge here? That _Parasini-san?_ Miss Parasini. _"_

"Yes, Commander. I am glad you're familiar with our honorifics. Gianna Parasini is the secretary for Administrator Anoleis, head of the Executive Board. I would discourage you from attempting to contact Anoleis-sama—he is quite busy throughout all times of the day, and does not wish to be disturbed. I'm afraid that Parasini-san is the only one who might be able to overrule our procedures for you."

"Gianna, huh?" asked Shepard, giving a sidelong glance through the glass leading to customs—finding a tanned human woman with her dark hair in a bun, wearing a pink dress and heels, and ogling quite openly at her. "Is that her in there?"

Captain Matsuo scanned her eyes to the gawking woman in the building, and then back to us.

"Yes, that would be Parasini-san."

Shepard suggested in a sour suggestiveness, "Why don't you give her a call; ask her to smooth this over for me? I'm sure she'll be willing to hear us out. She doesn't look too _busy_ at the moment."

The blonde security officer scoffed in disgust. "Oh, for the love of God! You can't just charm your way into her pants to get what you want! If you seriously think you're going to get away with this…"

"I'm not charming anyone here," claimed Shepard. "She's right in there, right this second, and she's the only one who can get me in this place with my gear. So I want you to call her. _Now."_

"Very well, Spectre," accepted Matsuo, bringing up her radio. "Parasini-san? This is Captain Matsuo. Come in, Parasini-san. Commander Shepard is here now, and she is requesting that she and her team be allowed to enter Port Hanshan with their weapons. Do we have your authorization for this?"

Inside the building, Gianna fumbled with the datapad in her hands as she responded— _"Yes, yes! Please allow the Spectre and her team in with their weapons. They're clear. That is all."_

Captain Matsuo gave no reaction to Gianna abruptly ending the call. "You heard Parasini-san," she said. "You and your people may enter through to customs. For your own safety, please do not attempt to cause a scene, or otherwise use violent force against any of the employees or company managers here in Port Hanshan. Should we discover you violating our rules, we will be forced to apprehend you."

Shepard rolled her eyes. "Uh-huh, whatever," she deadpanned. "Thanks for the friendly warning, Captain. Tali, Ashley, Liara—let's go. It's fucking cold out here."

She stepped closer to the doors, and they opened automatically.

Eyeing that blonde security officer who continued to scowl in our wake, Shepard gestured for the three of us to enter first. We headed inside as Shepard watched our backs—though I noticed Ashley and Tali doing their best to conceal their reactions, their glee over such a display of our commander's manners, however unintentional this may have been on her part.

I smiled as we reached the relative warmth of the building's interior.

More security drones, and more of this same cold, cold concrete decorated the area in a drab, non-welcoming welcome. Upstairs, the clerk's desks had no one behind them, no one greeting the new arrivals. The misting heat from the waterfall between the sets of stairs felt as more welcoming than anything else could have, at least in a place like this. And the few people sitting around on benches all narrowed their eyes at us in suspicion and unease, disapproving of our presence here.

Once we reached the top of the stairs, that Gianna woman soon took her place behind the clerk's desk on our left. She settled away that datapad that had slipped out of her hold earlier. On our approach, she attempted to continue busying herself, but this time in a more calm and collected manner.

The security drones blared with their alarms from detecting our weapons.

Gianna quickly disabled the alarms, still trying to remain composed.

Shepard reached the desk first, asking her, "So, are you Gianna?"

"Yes!" replied Gianna, smiling in nerves. "Yes… Yes, I am Gianna Parasini—assistant to Administrator Anoleis. The Executive Board sends their regards… It's not every day we have a fully-armed Spectre and her team passing through here. Might I ask what business you have on Noveria this morning?"

Shepard pointed out, "Your people at arrival controls said I had your personal clearance to dock my ship outside. I told them I'm here on Council business. They didn't give you any details?"

"Oh! Oh, right, right, I—I must have forgotten! Yes, I believe they mentioned something about Matriarch Benezia…? You're here to visit her on Peak 15, then? Or are you perhaps here for something else…?"

In my periphery, I noticed Ashley rolling her eyes, and clicking her tongue in a 'bitchy' sort of revulsion.

"We're here to find the matriarch," confirmed Shepard. "I heard you shut down all the shuttles heading up to the Skadi Mountains, and that surface access to the area is cut off. Is there any other way my team and I can get up to this research facility?"

Gianna informed us, "You _could_ drive up to the mountain through the valley… But, due to the environmental hazard caused by the blizzard, I can't really recommend it. You would also need a garage pass to access any vehicles for the drive. Though you will need clearance from Administrator Anoleis to leave this port at all. If you actually want to brave this blizzard, you'll have to speak with him first."

"And where is this boss of yours?"

"His office is on the main level—take the elevator straight through here, and head left down the plaza."

"Understood," said Shepard. "Can we head over there now, or do I need to fill out a form or something? Your ridiculous layers of security here are a bit much."

Gianna smiled and said, "There won't be any forms to fill out, Commander—not this time… You and your team are free to go. You'll find me in the administrator's office. Should you need anything else, I will be all too happy to assist. If you'll excuse me."

Once that was over, Shepard guided us to the elevator around the corner.

Tali commented, "I'm not sure how I feel about this place so far. Almost everyone is suspicious of us for the reasons Shepard mentioned before—or they're the exact opposite and acting overly-friendly."

Ashley stopped herself from laughing. "Tali, sweetie, if you seriously think that secretary woman was just acting _overly-friendly_ , then I have a bridge to sell you. Wanna buy it? I could use the extra creds!"

"A bridge?" puzzled Tali. "Why would I want to buy a _bridge_ from you, Ashley? That is so strange! Is this another one of your human expressions that I have zero context for?"

"Could be," teased Ashley. "Hey, why don't you teach me some of your quarian sayings? I'm pretty sure I know ' _Keelah se'lai'_ by now. That one always sounded religious to me. What else is there?"

"You're _still_ in a good mood, hm?"

"Mostly, yeah… Why, do you _want_ me to be pissed off and upset instead? I was kind of tragic last night."

"No, I would never want that," insisted Tali as we all entered the elevator—again, after Shepard allowed us in first. "I should have seen this coming, that's all. It feels like I keep getting blindsided these days…"

Close quarters, round, and enclosing in on our personal space: this dark teal-tinted glass surrounded us, cutting out almost all natural light from the area. As the elevator took us to the main floor, each of the other landings we passed by peeked through to us with their light, offsetting the relative dark here for brief moments at a time.

In front of me, Ashley and Tali continued to speak, the tone of their conversation having dimmed a bit.

At my side, Shepard reached for my hand nearest to hers. Intertwining her gloved touch with my armored one, she allowed us to have this time, this closeness. She did not look at me, not even when I gazed up at her in curiosity, maintaining her mask instead. And even with these materials in the way, I could still feel how limber her hand was, filled only with the finest of sinew from her many years of putting her hands to work. Those details made me smile once more, enjoying this pleasant jolting that sparked through our joined hands, all as reminders of our ceaseless feelings for one another.

Ceaseless indeed, because even once she let go of my hand as we left the elevator, she had left her mark over me, making me wish that we were back in her private cabin, back in her bed again.

Shepard had enthralled me so much, I could hardly notice that we were not on our way to the administrator's office, instead heading straight through the plaza to someplace else.

Though even in my haze, I was able to appreciate how much better this location was compared to customs, and compared to the docking bay outside. This plaza was warmer, with more of that nostalgia blanketing me, somehow. The layered levels of the open area was filled with more security guards, employees, and company managers avoiding us, eyeing us up and down—but it was simple enough to ignore them. After all, the ample waterfalls smoking with heat made this place feel like home to me.

So peaceful—even the blizzard raging beyond the picture windows all along the far wall brought me much comfort. Smoothing over my confusions from last night, from this morning, I indulged in that sight, and of how the very picture of that white and tundra blue clouded through here, through to the decorative stone and slanted layers of concrete all around us.

More beautiful than all, Shepard's eyes and skin had absorbed that opaque light, so picturesque in her razor-sharp concentration as she walked by my side, focused on our path ahead.

With her concentration, I also picked up on the subtle whispers passing through this area, heavy with the atmosphere; hiding within the comfort of this space to blend in, to become obscure.

I was not fooled by these civilized surroundings. This was a place of secrets and lies.

"Rock gardens and waterfalls!" spotted Ashley. "Very Zen."

Tali wondered, "What is Zen? Sounds a little familiar."

"It's from a religion back on Earth. I guess the word means…peace. It's this aesthetic, too."

Looking around as we reached another elevator, past a pair of green signs along the wall, Tali asked, "This place is peaceful to you?"

"Yeah, don't you think?" supposed Ashley, entering the similar dark-teal of this glass and limited space.

"Hmm, maybe this is peaceful… Not this port. Not these people. Being here with all of you is Zen."

"That's so adorable—I'm gonna have to steal it from you."

As the elevator took us to yet another area, Shepard held my hand once more.

This time, she used her thumb to caress mine.

Curling my smile inward, I noticed out of the corner of my eye: the way our laced hands reflected in the glass surfaces around us, dulled by that dark.

In that same reflection, I felt Ashley's stare burning a hole through the glass.

We soon arrived to what looked like a bar in the lobby of a hotel. Still more of this dull, colorless aesthetic from the rest of the port, the area was rather sparse at this hour of the morning, as it should have been. The few patrons around sat at circular tables, mostly in groups, having early alcoholic drinks together before heading into the office. At the topmost level up the stairs, I noticed a few lone individuals sitting by themselves, absorbed in their business on their terminals, drinks in-hand.

Ashley hummed, contented as we walked past the heated water and large set of rocks in the center.

"I like the music here," she remarked. "It's so chill. Atmospheric, a little moody. I could listen to this song for hours and never get sick of it…"

"More Zen?" pondered Tali.

"Yes, Tali. More Zen."

Shepard led us to an empty table near the large set of picture windows, open to the comforting view of the blizzard outside. She pulled out my designated chair for me to sit down, right near the window. I smiled at her as I sat, and as Tali sat next to me, with Ashley right across. I also expected her to sit with us in the only other open seat, yet she remained standing.

"Skipper?" asked Ashley. "No idea why we're here first, but aren't you gonna sit with us?"

"Not this time, Chief," dodged Shepard. "I'm going to use my tactical cloak for some solo reconnaissance on that Gianna Parasini. Something's off about her, and I want to find out what it is. Before I go, I'll buy you ladies some drinks. Non-alcoholic, by the way—we're still on a mission here."

Tali laughed softly. "That's really thoughtful of you… Thanks."

"Thank you, Commander," I expressed. "That would be lovely."

Ashley couldn't hide her smile. "Yeah, that's unexpected. Thanks, Shepard…"

Shepard maintained her mask, however softened she was on the inside. "I'll go see what they have at the bar," she said. "Probably not that much. I'm guessing it'll be regular fruit juice that they use to mix in with the other drinks. Will that work for you?" The three of us nodded, lightened. "All right. Wait here."

As she headed over to the bar nearby, I watched her go, watched the perfunctory rigidness of her walk.

Yet even in her mechanical stride, I saw such an air of confidence about her—that professionalism. How she held her head high as she went, not quite physically looking down on those she passed by, although she might as well have anyway; how the tail of her hair hanging from the center-back of her head moved ever-so-slightly as a metronome of her movements; and how she held her shoulders back slightly, leaving her arms a little loose, reminding me just enough of her runway walk from her previous career.

Ashley noticed the same, grinning freely. "Is this real?" she asked— _rhetorical_. "Shepard's _actually_ treating us to drinks, letting us sit here while she handles this leg of the mission? I almost feel bad, but it's not like I'm gonna turn down her hospitality! Man, this day so far—it's been like a roller coaster…"

"I'll say," agreed Tali, captivated. "She can be really sweet sometimes…when she wants to be."

"And she never loses her scowl while she does it. That makes it even sweeter."

Tali admitted: "Mmm, yes, she used to scare me. I would worry about her moods—if I was bound to make her angry at any moment. For some reason, she hasn't lost her patience with me. Not yet…"

Ashley laughed a bit. "I doubt that's even possible," she speculated. "There's a _reason_ why I'm always calling you cute. Skipper sees what I see; I bet she wouldn't have the heart to yell at you over anything. Besides, you know your stuff. You're fine, Tali." We all watched as Shepard leaned over the plain surface of the bar, monitoring the salarian bartender closely as he prepared our drinks. "You know, seeing her like this, it gets harder and harder to not just…tell you guys what's been on my mind lately."

_Even me, really?_

"It's okay," consoled Tali. "There's no pressure to tell us anything. By the way, I did tell Liara that Kaidan told me about that 'boyfriend' of yours. So she knows as much as I do. No secrets here."

Gaping at her, Ashley asked, "You think this is related…to _that?"_

"Um, yes? I'm making an educated guess. This is the main thing you've been upset about all this time, and what you were so vague about last night. Isn't it?"

"Oh… Sure, I guess that makes sense. And yeah—it _is_ about that…"

"Well, like I said, there's no pressure," repeated Tali. "I don't want you to feel like you _have_ to tell us, just because we're all sitting here having drinks together. We're here to support you no matter what."

Ashley didn't believe half of that last sentence. "I'll…think it over. Thanks, Tali."

All of a sudden, we heard Shepard shouting at the cowering bartender—"What the hell is this?! I said dextro! This is supposed to be for a quarian—are you trying to kill her?!" Throwing the drink in the salarian's face, she ordered, "Make the right drink this time, goddamnit. If I scan the next one, too, and it's wrong, this empty glass is gonna end up someplace you _really_ don't want it to go."

"I-I'm sorry, I'm sorry!" cried the bartender, fruit juice dripping from his face as he hurried to find the correct items. "I'll do it right this time, I promise. I promise! Just please don't hurt me!"

"Whatever," dismissed Shepard, picking up the other drinks next to her. "You'd better have it ready by the time I get back here. And I'm not paying for it, either."

As Shepard made her way back to our table with two glasses, Ashley hid her laughter behind her hands.

"Oh, she's pissed," she noticed in amusement.

"Don't let her see you laughing," warned Tali.

"Here," said Shepard, settling two glasses of sugary, fruity drinks over the surface—one for me, and one for Ashley. "Sorry, Tali. The idiot bartender is making yours over. My scans showed that the first one he made wasn't dextro. The last thing I need right now is you dying over some negligent shit like this."

Tali giggled. "I understand, Shepard. Thank you."

Ashley asked, "You have one of those dextro-scanning programs on your omni-tool? How come?"

"For situations like these," stated Shepard. "I also use it to scan our incoming shipments of food for the ship. I've had to throw out more than enough packages because they brought the wrong meals for Tali and Garrus. I filed a formal complaint with the Alliance over it. Hasn't happened again in a while now."

"Shepard," chanced Tali. "I'm going to tell you something now. Promise you won't get angry with me?"

Scowling more, Shepard accepted, "Right… What is it?"

"I have to say, you're the sweetest, most thoughtful, and most _organized_ captain I've ever had the pleasure of knowing—on any ship, including all of the ones in the Flotilla. I could turn around for a moment, and then you already have the solution to my problems waiting for me, without me needing to ask you more than once, if at all. I've learned my lesson to not judge you by how intimidating you look. In fact, I think you're only protecting yourself with those habits of yours. You're a big softy, you know."

Ashley tried to disguise her smirking, to no avail.

I of course smiled in agreement.

In response, Shepard steeled her eyes with her defenses. She bit down on her smile that was about to reveal itself, wrangling it back in favor of her default expression instead, sturdier than before.

She then settled on muttering, "You're…really weird, Tali. I'll…be right back with that drink for you."

Turning to leave again, Shepard's posture was much stiffer this time.

Ashley laughed and said, "Major props, Tali. You had some serious balls to tell that to the commander's face. I'm never gonna forget her reaction. She was trying _so hard_ not to smile at you!"

"Everything I said is perfectly true," justified Tali, sounding much lighter. "Isn't it?"

"Yes, it is," I agreed.

"Mmm, and you _would_ know, wouldn't you, Liara?"

"I would—and I do. Shepard is very considerate of all our needs. If you were to ask her about this directly, I am sure she would tell you it is merely part of her job as our leader."

Sultry in her meaning, Tali pointed out, "She _chooses_ to be good at it, though. Don't you think?"

Willing to play this game with her, I requested, "Do tell. You must have more thoughts on this."

"Recall the last thing she said— _'I'll be right back with that drink_ for you.' Curious choice of words. She was supposed to be so stubborn, and yet she still gave away my importance to her. I get the impression that this is something that comes naturally to her in many different situations. Know what I mean?"

"And you're asking for confirmation," I noticed. "Is that what you're doing, Tali?"

"Liara, I'm asking for more than mere _confirmation_. We're going to be here alone, just us three, while Shepard is off working for us. Please don't act like you're confused—it doesn't suit you at all."

"I am allowed to _act_ _confused_ if you won't say what you mean."

"Confused… More like coy. Does Shepard like this on you, then? Is that it?"

Ashley pulled her drink closer, staring at it with a focus that felt wholly awkward and uncomfortable.

Letting myself smile over this, I replied, "Tali, you've surprised me. I had no idea that you would ever voice anything like this out loud. Forgive me for avoiding your questions for the moment—I _do_ intend to answer you. Once we're alone, that is."

Tali laughed, much softer this time. "I'll hold you to that."

Far sterner than before, Shepard again returned to the table, final drink in-hand. "Sorry for the wait," she regretted, giving Tali her chilled glass of juice, with a straw specifically for her quarian helmet. "My scans came back clean this time. Do you want to run one, too, just in case?"

Tali sipped the drink, without scanning it. "This is nice, Shepard," she complimented. "I trust you."

Hiding behind her own glass, Ashley drank her dark berry juice, seeming anxious about something.

I asked, "Commander, will you only be doing reconnaissance? Or do you have other plans?"

Shepard explained, "Just stalking Gianna while I'm cloaked, and maybe finding one of those garage passes lying around. I know a spy when I see one. This shouldn't take long."

Tali told her, "There's no rush, you know… Feel free to take your time. We'll be here, waiting for you."

Her face as red as her drink, Ashley stared out to the blizzard past the windows.

Shepard regarded each of us, one at a time, sensing…perhaps too much. More than she could handle at a time like this. She almost faltered in her strength, picking up on the possible, probable reasons behind Tali's coyness and mine, and Ashley's sudden, obstinate shyness.

Narrowing her eyes in deep suspicion, Shepard announced, "I should go."

She turned on her heel and left the bar, ignoring an asari harassing her for her attention as she went.

Tali sighed in contentment once Shepard was gone. "She's something else, isn't she?"

"She is, indeed," I spoke.

Ashley groaned in discomfort. "No, _you two_ are something else," she complained. "What the hell…?"

"What?" asked Tali. "How are you surprised by any of this?"

"I'm not. Not really. I get it—the commander's a total chick magnet. She's gorgeous. Certified stud…"

Tali feigned ignorance, "Oh? Do you think about this often, Ashley?"

Not quite spotting the obvious, Ashley threw her hands in the air. "You know what? Fine!" she conceded—to what, exactly, I couldn't know yet. "I'm gonna come clean with you two. Just—don't tell anyone, especially not the guys. I don't want Joker and Wrex teasing me over this…"

"Your secret's safe with us," promised Tali.

I added, "Ashley, I think we've already agreed that this entire conversation will remain private."

"You're right," she accepted. "Okay, then…"

Ashley found her trust in us—even me, somehow.

"So…for the past—five or six years, since I was nineteen, twenty years old, I've been questioning my sexuality. I already knew I liked guys. With women, there was always a giant question mark… It took me a long time to come to grips with this. Ever since I was little, I've had this fantasy, this image burned into my head that I'd settle down with a guy someday. It's what I learned from my own family: a male father, a female mother, a bunch of _natural_ kids… Any time I tried to imagine something else, it felt like I was betraying them. It sounds stupid, I know… But my family means so much to me. I just— _couldn't_ …"

Tali spoke her awe, "Ashley…are you me? Well, I-I've never outright _questioned_ my sexuality, but…"

Ashley stared in shock. "You can't mean… What are you saying, Tali?"

"I've been going through _almost_ the same thing with my family for years now!"

"No way!"

"Yes!"

Sighing in deep relief, Ashley said, "Tali, this is so crazy! Did you have your other family members and friends and—pretty much _everyone_ asking when you're gonna get married to some guy, someday?"

"I have!" confirmed Tali. "It was the worst with my Auntie Raan when I was in school, and I didn't have a boyfriend! She would ask if something was wrong, or if I needed help; or she would offer to introduce me to so-and-so's son or nephew, as if that was the solution to my problem. I couldn't possibly tell her that I was secretly in love with a straight girl at the time, and that I was depressed over it… There was no way my father would have approved of me being _depressed_ over that, either…"

"Yeah, same here… I only had one boyfriend in high school, though. My younger sisters thought I was allergic to boys or something. They'd give me the third degree, asking why I was single even though I had plenty of guys calling me hot all the time… I'd just brush them off and say I was focused on protecting _them_ from any stupid boys, and they believed me. This is so weird… What a coincidence."

Tali explained her feelings, "It's a lot of pressure… And it's not as if being gay or bisexual, or even trans is some huge taboo anymore. I did a bit of research on how it was for you humans. It sounds like it was the same for my people, too, for the longest. Still, straight is the default, and explaining otherwise to your father—who already has high expectations of you—can be rather daunting…"

"I felt that same pressure, too," shared Ashley. "My family's really religious. If this was two hundred years ago, they would've disowned me… These days, I worry they'd say it's _unnatural_ for me to get pregnant by a woman, like our family wouldn't be real… I just—I don't wanna let them down. That's part of what made me keep questioning. Plus, when I did hook up with girls, everything wouldn't add up…"

"I know what you mean, Ashley…mostly. Except I haven't had the chance to—well, you know…"

Careful, delicate, Ashley asked, "Are you…not there yet? Still undecided, or…?"

"Uhm…I-I don't really know if that applies to me… I mean, I do know for certain that I'm attracted to other women. I've always known… It's amusing when a man thinks he likes me. It's never been anything more than that. Only the amusement, kind of like how I thought it was so sweet that Kaidan liked Liara right away from the sound of her voice. But because of my father and how strict he is, I'm not quite ready to put a label on anything yet. I still can't even admit to a woman how I might feel about her…"

"I'm sure you'll get there someday, Tali. Hopefully your Dad comes around, too. Mine passed on a few years back… I'll always regret not opening up to him about this. Maybe if I had his approval, I wouldn't have spent so much time beating myself up about everything… If he could've given me one of those big smiles of his, and told me it would all be okay, I'd have come out to everyone way sooner."

Tali touched Ashley's shoulder. "I'm sorry about your father… I'll try to find the courage to open up to mine one day. After everything he's done for me, I owe him that much. Thanks for showing me that."

"Definitely," agreed Ashley. "And now, this is my coming out party, with you guys." She raised her glass in the air. "I can't keep denying it anymore! I'm bisexual—no question. There's _no way_ I only like guys. I like women, too, and I've found my peace with that. No more running. Today, I'm starting off fresh. I still don't know when I'll tell my family… I won't let myself worry about that right now. I need this for me."

"That's wonderful to hear, Ashley!" said Tali. "I'm really happy for you."

"I'm glad for you as well," I told her. "It's as if a weight's been lifted from your shoulders."

Ashley soured, "Yes and no, Liara… Yes and no."

Tali wondered, "Hmm, then what's the rest? What's the matter?"

Such specific, nervous laughter. "There's a _big_ reason I can't stay in denial about this anymore…"

"And what could this _big reason_ be?"

"Tali, come on," griped Ashley. " _It's someone!_ Someone that I like a whole lot? You can't tell me you don't know by now…"

"Hmm, refresh my memory?" requested Tali, supposedly innocent.

Raging in code—"The sun, Tali! _The sun!"_

Tali drank the last of her juice, silently goading Ashley to _just_ _say it_ already.

"After I showed you _my_ _entire collection_ of her sexy fashion magazines last night, you seriously have no idea who it is?!"

More false innocence: "No…?"

"Damnit, Tali, it's Shepard! _It's her!"_

Tali placed her hands over the mouth-light of her helmet, pretending to be shocked.

Ashley swiped at her. "Will you stop that?! You were _just_ being supportive a few minutes ago!"

Giggling over this whole thing, Tali apologized, "I'm sorry, Ashley. I could have sworn _you_ _knew_ that I knew. You were so obvious about it for the longest—and I don't only mean when we talked last night. The moment Kaidan came to me with that fake story you fed him, he all but confirmed it for me."

"What do you mean, _I was obvious about it?_ You're kidding!"

"You were," I confirmed. "If you had been subtler in your approach, perhaps I might not have noticed."

Ashley groaned, admitting, "Subtlety's not exactly my thing…"

I frowned at her. "You don't say."

"Look, sometimes, I don't have any brakes, okay? No filter, no chaser. I can't help it, and there's nothing I can do to change that. As long as no one else knows, I'll be fine!"

Tali and I looked to one another.

"Oh, God, this can't be happening… _Please_ don't tell me…"

"Ashley," I tried. "I am not saying that _everyone_ knows. Only that Shepard has also known."

Tali nodded. "That's what I figured as well."

Ashley mumbled, "That's even worse…"

"Oh, stop it, Ashley," coaxed Tali. "By now, Shepard knows that I have a crush on her, and she hasn't kicked me off the ship. You saw the way she reacted to me earlier, and the look she gave each of us before she left. She knows that this is the real _Team Renegade Shepard._ It's the three of us, here."

"But how can you talk about this like it's no big deal?! She's our commander…"

"Is there really any reason for us to keep avoiding this topic? Besides, Liara is right here, and she hasn't told us to shut up already. She's made it clear that this isn't a problem. Why not discuss it?"

Ashley eyed me again.

She knew that she could speak nothing of the allowances that Shepard had given her.

She knew that she could divulge nothing of how Shepard did or did not feel about her.

As long as she followed the rules, she knew—I truly had no issues with this conversation.

Taking a deep breath, Ashley muttered her admission, "Okay, fine… I'm an open book for you guys now. Or at least, I might as well be… What do you wanna know?"

Tali held nothing back: "How are you able to masturbate to her so many times in a row? I can hear you sometimes when I listen closely through the wall connecting our rooms together. It's like you never seem to stop on most nights. So, how do you do it?"

Ashley hid her burning face in her hands. "Right for the jugular, huh…?"

"Hardly. I'm only getting started."

"Ugh, you're such a perv… Spying on me through the wall? _Really?"_

"Maybe I am. I like listening to _someone else_ lose their mind over her for a change. Now answer me."

Seeing no way to avoid this any longer, Ashley removed the brakes, so to speak:

"It's because I lose my mind, like you said… That and my sex drive is insane…for her and only her. With everyone else I had before, I'd _want_ sex. Not necessarily _with them_ —they just so happened to be there at the time. They were convenient… Then we'd get in bed, and they were too sloppy or clumsy. Or they were too soft, treating me like a doll that could break at any minute. So I'd think about something else, _anything else,_ and I'd get off…and then I'd feel sick to my stomach for wasting my time like that."

Tali knew, "You settled for less, then?"

"Compared to Shepard? Way, _way_ less…"

"Go on."

"Look, I'll be the first to admit that I may be idealizing her…"

"Hmm, Ashley, I don't know about that. You didn't hear the unintentional demonstration Liara and Shepard gave us the other day. And I spared you the details because I wasn't sure how you would feel. I'm surprised the others haven't mentioned it in the chat that much, honestly."

Ashley wanted to know now—"Tell me. Give me the details. What didn't you say?"

Tali looked to me, praising, "Liara, I never did congratulate you. Shepard wouldn't stop that night. By my count, and Joker's estimations, she kept going, kept pleasing you for _at least_ eight hours—"

"— _eight hours?!"_ cried Ashley, lowering her voice enough to prevent anyone else in the bar from overhearing us. "Holy shit, Liara… What did you do to her!? How did you get her to do that for you?"

Rather enjoying this heat in my own face, I explained, "There was nothing I _did_ to her, Ashley…"

"No—I don't buy it," she insisted. "You don't get it… Seriously, I still can't wrap my head around this."

"Be honest with me," I requested. "What do you mean?"

"Real talk, Liara: when we first met, I assumed you were _way_ too sweet and innocent to be on Shepard's radar! And even if she _did_ want you, I thought there was no way she'd put herself out there like that… You were only fresh meat—why take the risk? Then you come out of nowhere, and got her to turn you out like this?! What does she see in you? Why does she want you this badly? Tell me—I need to know!"

And then I remembered Shepard's wise warnings—that Ashley was bound to insert herself into my business, needing to know more about me, exactly in this way.

Tali chimed in, "I'll admit, Liara—I want to know, too. Won't you share with us?"

"I'm not sure where to begin," I prefaced. From the way they hung on my every word so far, they didn't seem to care about my hesitations—they wanted me to give them something, anything to hold on to. "Well…it is rather cliché to say this, but all is not as it appears with me. You say that I am sweet and innocent, yet this is only one side of my personality. I am not that simple."

Ashley couldn't tear her sights from me. "You're saying there's more to you than meets the eye…"

"Yes, that human expression is appropriate."

"Then, what else is there?" she asked. "What am I missing here? What are we _not_ seeing?"

"Don't you think you are _already_ witnessing another side of me? Here, right at this moment."

"I guess… But I want you to paint a picture for me, Liara. I need to understand you, how you operate."

I wasn't confident that she would be familiar with the simpler term, the shortcut.

So I told her, "When I was younger, my mother Benezia would call me her _little wing._ This is the purity that you know—but the picture, as you say, is incomplete. Because of how controlling my mother was, I was forced to hide the rest of who I am. Yet I have always known that I want more from someone than simple dating, along with any normal, typical expectations. I have never been with anyone before Shepard. She understands me, and she has shown me that it is possible to have far more than _just_ sex."

Tali shifted in her seat and gazed out to the snow, thinking…

But the way Ashley stared at me—it was as if I'd transformed before her very eyes.

No longer the _shy bookworm_ she had assumed me to be.

Such boldness from her: "Liara…are you saying you're into—an _alternative_ lifestyle?"

I smiled over her comprehension. "On a mental and emotional level, yes, I am."

"You said that Shepard understands you… Does that mean—the other night—she wasn't able to resist _you_ instead of it being the other way around? She kept giving it to you for that long because you had her wrapped around your finger… And she gave you that focus of hers, that crazy attention to detail she has. She _knows_ what she's doing when she touches you, when she kisses you… She wants you…as a woman."

"Yes, Ashley… She gives me what I want. Sometimes I am selfish… She enjoys it."

"Does she really give you _everything_ you want…? Everything you could ever possibly need?"

"She does—because she wants to. Because I want her to want it. If she didn't want this as badly as she does, then it wouldn't be the same. She wants to please me as much as possible. It's…invigorating."

Ashley could hardly contain herself: "Mmm, she's a people-pleaser…isn't she? _Please_ tell me she is…"

I nodded. She grinned in the slickness of her own fantasizing.

"You said Shepard's your first. I have to ask—" Even more boldness: "Are you still a virgin?"

Tali snapped out of her daydreaming—"Ashley!"

I replied, "Yes—"

"—oh, my God!" Those memories from last night—Ashley _remembered_. "Oh, fuck… Oh, my God!"

"What, what's wrong?" worried Tali. "You're freaking out… How is this a bad thing, exactly?"

"Tali, it's not a _bad thing_ —"

And then a certain radio call passed through our ears at the same time: _"Shepard to bar party. Shepard to bar party. Bar party, do you read me?"_

Quickly muting herself via her omni-tool, Ashley snorted with laughter.

Tali muted her own radio as well, giggling madly.

I smiled over Shepard's dry sense of humor, responding to her, "Yes, Commander, we are here. How is everything going with your reconnaissance?"

" _I'm finished here. We can proceed with the rest of the mission now. Bring Tali and Ashley with you, and meet me outside the administrator's office. Do you remember the directions Gianna gave us earlier?"_

"I do remember—from the main elevator, we are to head left down the plaza. Well, we will need to go to the right from our current direction. If we can proceed, does this mean you procured a garage pass?"

" _Yes, we're good to go,"_ responded Shepard, annoyed.

I could have sworn I heard Captain Matsuo's voice somewhere in the background from where she was.

I asked her, "Is…something wrong, Shepard?"

She went silent for a moment, moving farther away from the sounds of the captain's voice.

I wondered: "Commander, how exactly did you obtain this garage pass?"

" _That prick Anoleis had one right in his pocket. I knew I wouldn't be able to cloak past his security drones—their sensors would have found me, setting off every alarm across Port Hanshan. Then the situation with Gianna escalated. I had to take alternative measures to secure the garage pass."_

Tali and Ashley looked to me, sharing in my concerns.

We made our way out of the bar, passing by various corporate employees speaking to one another in panicked whispers, fretting over some recent event that had occurred downstairs.

Unmuting herself as we reached the elevator, Tali asked, "Shepard, what do you mean by _alternative measures?_ What are you saying?"

"… _you'll see when you get here."_

Ashley questioned, "Okay, then how did the situation with his secretary _escalate?_ You said you planned on spying on her, didn't you? To find out if _she_ was a spy?"

" _I did listen in on her conversations,"_ confirmed Shepard. _"I used my cloak to follow her around. That's when I learned the information I needed to get this garage pass."_

As the elevator took us back to the main level, Tali couldn't help inquiring, "Did you…seduce her?"

Muting herself once more, Ashley tried so hard _not_ to laugh.

" _Tali, I'm not even going to justify that with a response."_

I continued the conversation, "Then what happened?"

" _Once it looked like the four of us were a no-show to the administrator's office, she left to go make a private call through an encrypted network. She was on the line with a friend, gushing about—something—and worrying about how she might've blown her cover over the whole thing. She apparently worked for Noveria Internal Affairs as a double-agent, trying to bust Anoleis for his financial crimes."_

There was really no need to ask her what this _something_ was that Gianna had gushed about.

"You then decided to bring this information to Administrator Anoleis?"

Shepard replied, _"It was only supposed to be blackmail for the pass. Gianna was irrelevant—according to her, there are about a dozen other double-agents sneaking around here on the administrator's ass. She knew she was expendable, and that's why she was so worried about her cover. I figured someone else could do a better job—with some more professionalism—and Anoleis would go down eventually."_

We soon reached the main level. Tali and Ashley walked alongside me as we passed through the plaza, doing our best to avoid the many ERCS guards that had nearly overtaken the area. I made sure to lower my voice as much as possible as I continued speaking to Shepard, getting to the bottom of this.

I disapproved of her methods, as we could have found some other way to obtain the pass without allowing an alleged criminal to continue his schemes.

Still, that was irrelevant right now—what was done was done.

"And after all of your justifications, did Anoleis give you the pass in exchange for the blackmail?"

Quite able to hear the displeasure in my tone, some of Shepard's nerves passed through, _"Not exactly… And not right away. He promised he'd give me the pass after he had a talk with Gianna. He wanted to confront her. I figured he'd fire her and be done with it."_

Almost to the administrator's office, this larger gathering of security officers spoke the obvious.

"Shepard," I said, noticing the way Ashley and Tali regarded me in worry, for they _knew_ I objected to this. "Administrator Anoleis did not simply _fire_ his assistant once he confronted her. Did he?"

More nerves, more guilt: _"There was…an altercation."_

"An altercation?! Commander—"

We then arrived to the administrator's office—or the open doorway, at least—where this _altercation_ had taken place not moments before. Lifeless upon the ground were two bodies, human and salarian, almost at an angle to one another. That pink dress, and an elite suit that only someone on the Executive Board could have afforded—this had to have been none other than Gianna Parasini and Administrator Anoleis. Guns in-hand, they appeared to have shot one another dead during their argument.

No doubt that Shepard had procured the garage pass from Anoleis' pocket _after_ his murder.

Nearby, I heard Captain Matsuo informing her superiors among ERCS that no one knew how or why this had occurred, including Shepard, after she had questioned the commander as a possible witness.

That possible witness, indeed, whom had retreated to a far corner closer to the snowy windows, away from the gaggle of security guards: Shepard had her back to us, brooding next to the wall over there. She shook her head from time to time, seeming to brace herself for our reactions once we found her.

As Tali and Ashley joined me in heading over to Shepard's side, I supposed I could no longer be angry with her. Though I would have preferred if the appropriate authorities had been able to apprehend Anoleis instead, he was dead now, and so that was the final end to his alleged illegal activities.

Once we were near enough, Shepard only looked to us once, before leading the way to the garage area.

We again avoided any security officers that we could, thankfully finding that the winding hallways just before the garage were empty enough.

However, Ashley could not stay quiet, "You're always on top of things… How did this all go so wrong?"

Shepard knew that she had been shortsighted about this. "…oops."

"'Oops'?! What the hell?! This is nothing like you. _Commander!"_

"Ash, whatever… It's done. Let's just get out of here."

Disarmed by Shepard at last using her nickname—in reality—Ashley quickly found her forgiveness.

Flirtatious, sexy, yet reserved: "Sir, yes sir…"

Breathing out built-up steam through her nose, Shepard could think of nothing to say in response.

Tali hummed, deep in thought, yet she also chose not to say anything.

I had no idea why I was amused by this.

But I supposed this was better than staying angry at Shepard over her uncharacteristic mistakes.

At the entrance to the garage, Shepard showed the garage pass to the lone security officer standing guard next to the glass doors. The officer gave us a look of bewilderment, before confirming that the pass was genuine, and allowing us to pass through.

Yet once we arrived to the dark gray of this large, large space, there was nothing here. The closed garage doors led out to the Aleutsk Valley just outside—those winding paths suffering from the brunt of the blizzard. Smells of vehicle exhaust mixed with heat desperately attempting to pierce the chill fogging the area: not a single vehicle, including the complimentary Grizzly truck that Port Hanshan normally would have had here, and including the Mako from the _Normandy_ that should have been here by now.

After all of that, we had reached a dead end…

Shepard called Joker right away—"Shore party to _Normandy_ , come in! Joker!"

Joker answered in a panic, _"Commander, what the heck is going on?! There's a swarm of ERCS guards outside on the docking bay! The people at arrival controls said there was some kind of incident in Port Hanshan, and now they're on lockdown? They're not trying to get into the ship or anything, but still!"_

"…there _was_ an incident, yes. Can you get the Mako here to the garage? We're on our way to Peak 15."

" _Negative, Ma'am—they won't let me make the transfer to your location! They told me I have to keep the ship here until we're ready to leave for good. If you can find some other way to get to Peak 15, I'm pretty sure I can pick you guys up straight from the facility once you're done there. I can't do it twice."_

Mounting pressure, guilt returning—"There _is_ no other way… The shuttles are down, and there's no surface access up to that area. We'd have to walk through the valley at this point."

" _In the middle of a blizzard?! Shepard, there's no way you're walking! You guys would freeze to death!"_

Though Shepard had her back to us once more, I could tell that this last setback had thrown her.

Ashley gave her back a dark smirk, actually enjoying this rare and unusual sight of our leader's disarray.

Tali tossed her a lifeline: "Actually, Joker, there may be a way for us to make the walk safely. Could you confirm that the blizzard is only a level one environmental hazard?"

" _Yeah, Tali, it showed the hazard at level one when I checked earlier. Checking again now… Still level one, with no forecasts of it jumping up any higher. And no chance of the blizzard stopping until next week or so. It's not like we can wait it out, though. The port's supposed to be on lockdown for like a month."_

"Benezia will not wait for us any longer," I pointed out. "Whatever business she has out here on Peak 15 will not last forever. We must find her sooner rather than later—now, ideally."

Joker worried, _"I hear ya, Liara—but I'd rather you_ not _die a cold, horrible death chasing after your Mom out there. Unless that blue skin of yours keeps you safe from blizzards, there's no chance you'll survive."_

Ashley reminded him, "Tali said there might be a way for us to pull this off. Right?"

"Yes, there is," confirmed Tali. "My suit lets me survive just fine in level one environmental hazards. Even now, I'm not cold at all. I've done this before—it will be like walking on a normal day, in regular weather. I'll be fine."

" _Yeah, cool, Tali,"_ dismissed Joker. _"You gonna solo Peak 15 and find Benezia all by yourself? I guess your little combat drone could keep you company while you bleed out thanks to her asari commandos!"_

"Joker, will you stop that and listen to me? Shepard has implants that help her handle extreme weather in emergency situations. This is an emergency situation. She'll be fine, too. Won't she?"

Shepard replied, "Yes… I can maintain them indefinitely for a level one hazard only."

" _Okay… What about Ashley and Liara? There's no way you're pulling another rabbit out of your hat!"_

Tali didn't understand. "A _what_ out of my hat?"

" _Uh, never mind…"_

On cue, Shepard activated her relevant implants. Without needing to make physical contact with me this time, I felt the effects of her changes. Like a furnace, my body heated up with this new source of warmth. Much like Tali's description, I felt as if I was in a normal place, during a regular day, well without any of these extreme temperatures. I also gathered that this was only the lowest setting for these accommodations: once we reached the full blizzard outside, I could have more heat to be just fine.

Ashley didn't quite have the same freedoms: "I feel way warmer, but…" She stepped farther away from Shepard, first, and then closer to her. "Unless I'm right next to you, I can't really feel anything. It gets dimmer when there's more distance between us. Liara looks like she's fine, though."

"Then stay close to me," said Shepard, not meaning anything by it.

"Oh… Okay. I will, then…"

Joker interrupted, _"Hey, hello?! Is anyone gonna fill me in on how_ any _of this is even possible?"_

"Maybe some other time," offered Tali.

Shepard used her omni-tool to input the coordinates to Peak 15. She then brought up her navigational system, showing the exact path for us to take through the valley to our destination. As an estimate for how long it would take us to arrive to the facility, the orange lettering popped up and flashed: _01h41m._

"Not bad at all," accepted Ashley. "About an hour and a half? Means we can take a nice walk together."

Tali agreed, "Yes, that should be good. It's time we put some work in after the day so far."

" _Uh, am I missing something?"_ asked Joker, still out-of-the-loop. _"And don't tell me you can't see how insane this is. The four of you walking through a blizzard, alone? Then again…"_ His pause spoke of his inappropriate thoughts. _"Hey, Shepard… I just realized! You'll have the girls to yourself while you're out there. All three of them! Gonna find a hot spring somewhere out there for some sexy times—?"_

Shepard hung up on him.

Finding her N7 helmet, she placed the protective piece over her head, needing to tuck in the length of her hair's tail through the material. She sighed over how predictable Joker was; she sighed over the day.

Ashley and I placed our helmets on as well.

Tali was already prepared to set off as she was.

Shepard then turned around to look at us, _finally_ look at us properly, finding our shared contentment.

She appeared to want to say something—to apologize—yet she couldn't quite find the words.

Tali praised her instead: "You're still the best captain ever, Shepard—by far. The walk should be fun."

Ashley did the same: "Yeah, Skipper. We'll manage. Don't be so serious!"

And I smiled at her, watching as most of Shepard's anxieties left her face, misted and frozen away.

She then spoke what she had wished to say earlier after Tali's initial compliments in the bar:

"Thanks…"

Leading the way out of the garage, Shepard walked toward the massive gates and out to the Aleutsk Valley. We followed close behind—with Ashley only a few paces behind her—as those automatic doorways lifted in their substantial weight, opening us to the expanse of snow outside. Rising temperatures through Shepard's protective instincts: the initial snap freeze halted me only for a moment, before my body warmed back up again. Ever the same as that wonderfully thoughtful blanket of hers, wrapping me up in her consideration—bundling me up in her growing love…

Like my mother used to with her warm embraces—as her _little wing_ —so many years ago, in nostalgia.


	9. Hesitation is Defeat

" _Don't Be So Serious" by Low Roar (Death Stranding) / "Namir – Trailer Edit" from Deus Ex: Human Revolution / when appropriate, in between: "The End of an Era" from Mass Effect 3: Citadel_

 **IX.** Hesitation is Defeat

_(Shepard)_

Absolute heat as fire radiated in my stomach against full brunt of this blizzard, straight from my core, helping me to press on as I led the team across the winding valley. Lifting and lifting my combat boots through the snow, one by one, step by step, I made a path through the fair amount of weighted white in our path, creating an easier one for Ashley, Liara, and Tali to walk through behind me, directly in my footsteps. Sight obscured somewhat by my helmet, I kept one eye on the road ahead, and another on my omni-tool over my left arm that ticked on with my navigational system, showing me where to go.

Every now and then, I turned my head back, making sure that everyone was all right: Ashley right behind me, and Tali and Liara walking next to each other not too far behind her.

I could hear their footsteps through this persistent flurry of the winds and snowfall.

I needed to see them myself—needed to see them looking back at me, to know that they were there.

Higher, above all, glimmers of the sun shone through as a stretched-out star in the white-blue sky. Watching over us, that half-overcast spanned out to the rise of the Skadi Mountains in the not-so-far distance, of rock formations peaking and cresting in the shape of this tundra, this endless snow. At my sides along the edges of these vehicle-minded paths, structured lights blinked in helpful warnings for anyone driving through, showing where the road peaked off to the fall of the valley's drop below.

Deep down, deep below, the white of that unknowable expanse fogged all else into obscurity. However many unfortunate cars, or stubborn travelers had fallen through there, I couldn't know. Somehow, I felt those depths in me, as this heat continued to gather and gather far within my core, pulling at something in me…something I had never, ever felt before, after having resisted the beginnings for far too long.

I couldn't hear them, but Tali and Liara looked to be in deep conversation.

I couldn't know for certain, but Ashley seemed to be gathering up the courage to do something.

Waiting without waiting, I took stock of myself beyond these foreign feelings blooming within me. This slight tingle in my nose, this dripping of moisture down my throat, and a slight chill passing through me, even though I was perfectly warm… I should have been fine. _I should have been_ , but I wasn't. So I decided to use my omni-tool to check my diagnostics; see what the problem was.

My immune system was at work adapting to an infection from a host of new germs.

Sniffling with this dejection, and with my heavy pulse, I accepted the obvious:

This was from _Ashley_ , from her kissing me earlier—in real life—for the first time.

I hadn't gotten sick from my first kiss with Liara. So why this? _Why now?_

After the day so far, this was just what I fucking needed.

Interrupting my simmering frustrations, I spotted a notification on my omni-tool:

_Request: New Private Radio Frequency (Secure – Encryption Grade: Alliance-Standard)_

_Requester: Ashley Madeline Williams_

_Reason: To talk clearly in the middle of this blizzard. To maybe use after we leave this place, if you want._

_Requirements: No one else is allowed in. Only you and me. You can opt-in to show me when you're available, and when you're on the line. Opt-out when you're not in the mood to talk to me. No pressure._

_Accept/Decline/Save for Later_

Taking a deep breath filled with my simmering, hot enough to melt this blizzard, I accepted her request.

I made myself available on this frequency, and saw that she was on the line already, waiting for me.

I really… _respected_ how bold she was in the face of her fears with me.

I spoke to her with that respect, "Ash, it's me."

Ashley hesitated before responding, _"Hey, Shepard…"_

We hadn't even exchanged more than five words so far, and already I picked up on the pros and cons of this new situation. Which were positive, which were negative—I couldn't know, I couldn't know. Yet I could at least speak to her without needing to raise my voice over the winds around us. I could speak to her as if she was right next to me, as if she occupied this space here in my helmet with me. Though this also applied to her: because I could hear her so _clearly_ , she used a softer tone than she normally would have, tuning me into another novel frequency.

Every single breath that laced itself through Ashley's words, I could hear from her.

Every single layer of emotion that broke Ashley's voice into rasping fragments, I could feel from her.

More simmering, and more simmering, stirring this all together into new temperatures: the heat started to lift from my core up through my diaphragm, like a boiling mist that fully intended on taking me over. I could keep strengthening this dam over that mist, keep blocking its reach and its approach up to my chest—or worse—but my actions on this day had given the game away.

My distractions, my hospitality, my shortsightedness: all because I'd had Ashley on my mind, now that Liara had given me her permissions, forfeiting this game right at the moment when it started.

Ashley wanted to play by my rules, even if it meant exposing her vulnerabilities to me like this.

She would never, ever give up or concede or forfeit, even unwillingly— _I knew_ that she wouldn't.

Her sheer nerve to be this unapologetic with me had fastened this adhesive over us, hardening.

For now, though, she needed me to keep the conversation going.

Simple and clean. "Ashley."

Those nerves of hers. _"Yeah…?"_

"You good?"

Sucking in a breath— _"I'm… I'm okay. What about you?"_

"I'm fine," I told her, feeling myself smile. "What made you decide to do this? You surprised me."

" _I…wanted to talk to you. You know, without this space in the way. The blizzard all around us. I'm walking behind you; it's not like we can have a real conversation. Not like Liara and Tali back there."_

Sounded practical enough. "You're allowed to walk next to me, you know."

Ashley demurred, _"That isn't the best idea…"_

"Why not?"

" _I'd be way too tempted to hold your hand… Or to get you to hold mine. You know how one person's hand has to be_ over? _I would…want yours over mine. And—we can't do that. I respect your boundaries."_

I was lucky no one could see me smiling, more. "Sounds like you've put a lot of thought into this."

" _You're always on my mind, Shepard. Everything I do, every shot I fire…you're there. All the time."_

"You never get tired of thinking about me?"

" _Never,"_ replied Ashley, sincere. _"Why would I? I made it pretty clear last night where things stood with me, with my feelings. Even though I said whatever came to mind, all of it was true. Besides, I'm usually not that great with words. I'm so used to—clamming up, or relying on my favorite poems instead. I can't see you liking poetry like that. So I'm trying to use my own words more. Really, really trying."_

I stopped myself from scoffing. "Yeah, if you started spouting off random poetry, I wouldn't know how to react. Unless I ask you to, then that's a different story. If it's _out of nowhere_ , then that would be…"

" _Weird? Yeah, I know. I know. I've thought about this a lot, too. I'll stick to writing my own poems."_

"If I'm honest, Ash, I'm surprised you like poetry at all. Your background file mentioned that you earned your undergrad degree in English Literature. Doesn't exactly fit with the rest of your perfect technical scores in handling that M7-Lancer assault rifle of yours."

" _Hey, just because my technical scores were great, that doesn't mean I can't like sensitive stuff, too. What can I say? I love the classics—Tennyson, Whitman, even Shakespeare. I liked college. I liked getting to write analytic essays on the novels and poems our professors assigned to us. It was kinda stressful sometimes, fitting homework in between skirmishes and live training… But I don't regret a thing."_

I remembered, "So it was just your electives that you didn't like?"

Ashley laughed with her guilt, gentle.

" _I was normally fine with school. In general. I almost failed my psych elective because I was…distracted at the time. And I didn't like the class anyway. Hated my professor. Couldn't pay attention. It was mostly because I was distracted, though."_

Well, if she hadn't outright failed the class, then that wasn't so bad. I'd assumed she just hadn't cared.

I asked her, "Why were you distracted?"

" _This is gonna sound so stupid… It's because of my boyfriend at the time. My first boyfriend after high school, away from my parents and all of that. This was after I enlisted, while I was in Brazil for my training. I was only around nineteen years old. Psychology was too much for me back then."_

"What do you mean?"

Sighing in bitter reminiscence, Ashley explained: _"He was older than me. Eight years older. When we first met in a club down in Rio, I thought he was so sweet and handsome. He bought drinks for me and my friends, and we bonded over how we were both foreigners. I wasn't from the country; he was an ex-pat from Quebec. He made me laugh a lot, so we dated. Things were okay for a while—until he started showing me who he really was. Like he had been hiding it, on purpose, just to get me to stick around."_

Staring up to the clearing skies, I hated this reminder of Ashley's limited view of me. This persistent brushing of the blizzard, this flurry of fury in snow: as winds only, this could have been the hurricane of me, and the same that could have hurt anyone who dared to get too close to me.

Even as I thought about this, I felt such an overwhelming _dread_.

Dreading Ashley seeing something that she hated in me, and running away.

Dreading her finding me as I was, and _not_ hating me—and staying with me in acceptance instead.

But I didn't want her to think I wasn't paying attention: "You're saying he was a manipulator?"

Ashley was a bit too caught up in her anger to notice my slight delay. _"Almost—he wanted to be,"_ she clarified. _"Just because he was older, and he had more money than I did, he thought he could own me. Control me. He'd try to keep tabs on me, forbid me from going out with my friends. He tried to pressure me into sex a few times. I kept telling him no—then one day, I finally left. I made up some excuse about how I was getting transferred to another base. I blocked him everywhere and never looked back."_

"Why did you make up an excuse instead of breaking up with him for being an asshole?"

" _Because…I was afraid he'd come after me. Or that he'd find my family and hurt them. That's how bad it was. He was obsessed. Not in a good way. I'm still mad at myself for not seeing the signs earlier."_

I understood: "And the psychology class was a bad mix at the time."

" _Yeah, that's an understatement."_

"I'm sorry, Ashley," I expressed. "I shouldn't have lost my patience with you earlier."

Sighing again, she sounded much better. _"No, it's okay. I shouldn't have let the drama affect my grades. I actually wanted to know his reasons, his thinking. There were some other things, like how he wanted me to call him 'Daddy'. Figured my regular old class_ wasn't _going to have the answers I needed."_

Such a natural thing to ask now, "You never had sex with him at all, then?"

Ashley paused, taken aback by how natural this was; how natural it was for her to say, _"Only once, a few weeks after we started dating. He ate me out. But it wasn't…"_ She let the rest of this ease between us carry her through. _"It wasn't the best. It didn't feel how I wanted it to feel. The whole time, I kept thinking about my first boyfriend from high school—how it was terrible with him, too. I hated it."_

I couldn't really relate, since I'd never let anyone touch me like that before—and I had no experience with men—but I didn't want Ashley to feel uncomfortable talking to me about these things.

So I asked, "Well, aside from the bad sex, did your first boyfriend treat you any better?"

" _He did, yeah. Things lasted longer with him than with my second boyfriend. We dated for like seven months in junior year. It was weird, though—he was more like a friend to me than anything. But he really liked me, and I was trying to prove to my family that I was straight at the time, so I went along with it."_

"Were you attracted to him at all? Or was he only like a friend?"

Ashley laughed and told me, _"He was cute… Super cute. Star of the basketball team, usually surrounded by a bunch of his other jock friends—you know, the works. I think he liked me so much because I didn't worship the ground he walked on like every other girl at school. That and he would always tell me how pretty he thought I was. I remember he_ really _liked my lips for some reason. And I liked that he was so into me. I liked the idea of having something more with him one day. He was the responsible type."_

Licking my own lips in full agreement with Ashley's ex, I probed, "Something more?"

"… _you know, Shepard—marriage, kids. All of that. I could see myself settling down with him later on in life. I never told him, though. We were way too young at the time. Glad I kept my mouth shut."_

"Why? Did he hurt you at some point?"

" _No, not at all… I just wasn't—emotionally connected to him. Emotionally attached. That's what I meant when I said he was more like a friend. I've always had this thing with guys. No matter how attracted I am to them, there's never a real emotional connection. That ends up ruining everything else for me."_

I wondered, "And I assume that's why you broke things off with him?"

" _Yeah, pretty much,"_ confirmed Ashley. _"My timing could've been way better, though… I broke up with him the day after we tried to go all the way. I'd told myself that I would let him. To see how it would feel; if it would help me feel more for him. I ended up getting scared. I told him to stop. It was awkward."_

Even in her silence, I sensed the strength of that awkwardness in her memory.

"Why'd you get scared?" I asked her. "What happened?"

" _Um, he was… Uh, well, let's just say there was_ another _reason why every other girl liked him so much!"_

"Ashley, say the words out loud. What was the problem?"

Sounding embarrassed, she replied, _"He was…huge. Like—I'm not even kidding. I was scared he wouldn't fit… That's how bad it was."_

Holding back my laughter, I had to know, "…was he black, by any chance?"

Absolutely mortified over perpetuating this stereotype: _"Yes…"_

I couldn't help it—I started laughing, cracking up, while _knowing_ that every single laugh I let out had only made her face redder and redder inside the stifle of her helmet. That made me laugh harder, and how shy she was, and how unexpected this was, and needing to play this off with my posture and my body shaking to not tip off Tali and Liara behind her—

" _Oh, my God, Shepard, stop it!"_ chastised Ashley, shoving at my back, sharp with her strength. _"How is this so funny? This is the first time I hear you laugh, and you're laughing at me?!"_ I laughed harder; she pushed at me harder, enough for me to take an extra step forward, still laughing. _"Damnit, Commander, you're seriously such a jerk sometimes! Will you stop already…? Ugh!"_

Feeling actual tears streaming down my face, I cleared my throat first, before saying, "Ash, I'm sorry… I wasn't laughing _at_ _you._ It was unexpected, that's all."

Ashley grumbled at me. _"Yeah, well, you had to say it,"_ she reasoned. _"It's not my place to say things like that. You can. I know you're mixed with black and white. I respect who you are. I'll stay in my lane."_

So she really _had_ done her research on me. "'It's not your place'. Did you learn that from him?"

" _Kind of. I felt_ out _of place whenever he brought his other black friends around. Not because I wasn't cool with them or anything—they liked spending time with me, too. There were times when they'd get too comfortable with me. They'd start throwing the N-word around while I was sitting right next to them. I knew that I wasn't allowed to say it, ever. But other than that, I never knew how to react."_

"I don't use the word myself," I explained. "At most, I hear it in some of the music I listen to. So you don't have to worry about that with me. You did the right thing, though, even if it was uncomfortable."

" _No, I get that I need to be uncomfortable when it comes to this. I want to keep learning. It's okay."_

Another surprise from her, in the way she impressed me with her responses, her thinking on this.

And I felt the way Ashley wanted to ask me more—something more personal, about me.

She held back, uncertain.

"What is it?" I prompted her.

Then she proved me right: _"Shepard, do you mind if I ask about you? About who you are, how you think. What you like, what you don't like. How you feel. Things like that."_

"Go ahead," I accepted, pleased that she cared this much about me. "Ask me whatever you want."

" _I'm just gonna come right out, then—did you not like me at first because you thought I hated aliens? I mean, aside from me getting caught by the beacon on Eden Prime, and how pissed you were at me for compromising the mission. When I almost made that stupid comment on the Presidium, it seemed like your whole view of me changed. Like you couldn't stand the thought of being around me."_

I had to give her credit for asking the tough questions.

"Basically," I settled. "I had no patience for it—for obvious reasons. But, I figured, as long as you didn't act on it, then we wouldn't have a problem. Made it easier for me to keep my distance from you. We've moved past that, though. I don't want you to dwell on it."

" _I'm not exactly dwelling on it,"_ tried Ashley. _"Not anymore. Not really. Out of everyone, I felt like you were the hardest on me. And I know what it's like to have my CO busting my ass because of my last name. I never got that vibe from you; you didn't judge me for that. I just can't help but feel like you looked for a reason, any reason not to like me. Am I crazy, Shepard, or does that sound about right?"_

I didn't like the turn that this conversation had taken, so suddenly.

I didn't like this feeling of Liara's stare burning against the back of my helmet.

I turned around, checking on Ashley, on Liara, on Tali—on everyone—again making sure that they were all there, as if they'd somehow disappeared during this talk.

I turned back around, facing forward, facing this onslaught of snow and wind.

I took the brunt of it, determined to act as this shield for Ashley right behind me.

She walked with ease, directly in the path I left in my wake, reminding me of the stakes here:

Lying to her or avoiding her wasn't going to do either of us any good.

So I told Ashley the truth: "Yeah, that's right."

She couldn't believe it— _"Wait a minute. Seriously?! You're admitting…that I'm right?"_

"Yes, Ash," I repeated. "You're right. I chose to be hard on you. More than anyone else on the ship, I avoided you on purpose. I avoided getting to know you on a personal level. I looked for excuses not to like you. I held onto those made-up reasons like a lifeline, all to avoid this situation we're in now."

" _But why, Shepard? Why'd you try so hard to avoid me like that? Is there something wrong with me?"_

…

I couldn't handle my heart breaking over her questions, over _the way_ she sounded.

I couldn't handle how much I wanted to stop everything and—hold her right now.

I couldn't handle her insane contradictions, of how she was so strong and independent, making me forget that she did _need_ someone like me who wanted to protect her on an emotional level.

_This was why—exactly why I had avoided her before._

"There's nothing wrong with you, Ashley," I reassured her. "I had to follow regulations."

 _"Then why were the regs so important to follow with me?"_ she insisted on knowing. _"You found a loophole with Liara! Why couldn't you come talk to me in person—get to know me before figuring out if I'm worth it or not? Why'd you work so hard to dismiss me like that right off the bat?!"_

The Williams Curse:

This was personal for her.

Any answers unrelated to the _real_ matter at-hand weren't going to help her at all.

And Ashley had the courage—or recklessness—to be this upfront with me, this straight-up with me in her emotions, _knowing_ that I could've hung up on her at any second if I didn't like her tone. But right now, when it mattered the most, she didn't hold back. She didn't censor herself or bow down to me.

Again, I chose to be honest with her: "Because…our rocky start aside, I already know that you're worth it." The way she went quiet: I accepted that there was no going back from this. "When we first met on Eden Prime, I sensed that there was something about you. Something that I wouldn't be able to ignore after a while. But I was too closed-off at the time. I couldn't let myself act on anything, so I pretended like I was above it all instead. That's what I do when I don't know how to cope—I avoid things. I run away."

 _"You didn't avoid Liara. You didn't make_ her _feel like shit. Hell, you fucked her brains out—and not once did you stop to think about how it would make me feel! And I_ know _you knew that I liked you! So why? Why didn't you control yourself around her like you always do with me? Why did you pick her first?!"_

Even the way she was upset, and jealous, and downright _hateful_ over this didn't turn me off.

Not one bit.

"Ashley, I thought you were straight," I justified. "I've had too many bad experiences with straight women who only _thought_ they liked me, or who wanted me to be something I'm not—"

"— _damnit, Shepard, I_ just _came out to Tali and Liara at the bar! I'm bisexual! I was in the freaking closet because I couldn't stand the idea of disappointing my family by being myself for once! You're the one who made me realize that there's no way I can keep denying what I am! You! No one else! Until I had our dream last night? Yeah, I was questioning. That's_ way _out the window now and you know it!"_

And there went my final excuse to keep my distance from her…

If she was only questioning, or if she was still stuck in the closet, then I could have protected myself.

But now…that wasn't the case anymore.

At a loss over her warranted anger, I assuaged her, "I hear you, Ash. I understand you're pissed at me. And I'm sorry. I really am. I only wish I knew why you're this upset. You know that I never judged you because of your last name. That wasn't the case. So why is this hitting so close to home for you?"

Calming a little, but not nearly enough, Ashley told me, _"Because your not-girlfriend loves rubbing this in my face. She can't stand me. She looks down on me, acting like she's so much smarter than I am, even though she's four times my age! Liara thinks she's better than me. You stroked her ego. You inflated her head, and now I have to suffer for it. And I'm not being dramatic about this, either! I have proof."_

"Proof?" I asked, thrown by this. "What kind of proof? What are you talking about?"

Ashley went silent.

There was something in her non-response—how she regretted blurting all of that out.

"Ashley," I said. "Whatever this is about, you can tell me. I'll keep it to myself if that's what you need."

" _I want to believe you, Shepard… I do. I just—I shouldn't have said any of that out loud. I know you care about her. I don't—I don't want to get in the middle, or ruin what the two of you have. I could never forgive myself if I did anything to hurt you, or if I somehow made you choose between us."_

"You don't have to worry about that," I consoled her, _knowing_ that I would have to choose, someday.

 _"But… But what if you don't believe me? What if I show you, and then you're pissed at me instead? What if you think I'm only starting drama against Liara, and…and you kick me off the team; throw_ me _off the ship next? That'd be the end of my chance with you. My one chance to change your mind about me. I can't ruin that."_

I thought back to the other night, before Feros:

When I had stayed with Ashley in her room, all because she couldn't stop crying in hatred, in her heart-broken agony.

If this was related, I could never _not_ believe her reasons for her distress.

I turned around, making eye contact with Ashley through her helmet, the dark camouflage of her sturdy armor a stark contrast against the fluff and flurry of the whiteout around us.

Transparent shame, and fear, and hurt, and all—all wrapped in agony in the dark brown of her eyes, so wide, and beautiful, and vulnerable in her need for me to understand, and to believe her, despite the odds. And even though she was not freezing, not cold in the slightest, she wrapped her arms around herself anyway, needing that self-comfort in the midst of all her uncertainty.

"Listen to me, Ash," I spoke, directly to her, directly through to her eyes. "I need you to trust me. I know that this is related to that night when I was in your room. When you wouldn't stop crying." She forced herself not to do the same now; and so I knew that I was on the right track. "Whatever happened that night, if you need me to take this to the grave, then I will. I get that I don't have the best track record with you. I want to make this right. So please—trust me with this."

Nearly there: _"Shepard, if you tell anyone, if you try to act against her… They won't believe me. They'll take her side. And even if they don't, I can't ruin their friendships with her. Everyone loves her so much because she's…the sweet and innocent one. And there's no chance I'll ever be her friend again—as if I ever was in the first place. But—I don't want this to mess with the team's morale. You know?"_

"I know exactly what you mean. You have my word that this stays between us."

Unwrapping her arms from around her torso, Ashley set about searching through her omni-tool.

I turned back around, facing forward as I waited for her to send me whatever this proof was:

Ambiguous enough to be open to interpretation.

Damning enough to get in Ashley's head like this and to make her _hate._

I sent her my personal email address, to avoid getting this mixed up with work.

She confirmed that she received it, and that she would use her own personal email for me as well.

" _I'm about to send you a screenshot,"_ announced Ashley. _"I should explain first. We made a chat room, Team Renegade Shepard, where we pretty much talk about whatever without you there. I promise we don't talk shit about you or anything. Never that. It's supposed to be a place for us to bond and joke around. It still is, technically. But when Tali messaged me that night, something shattered—in my head, in my heart. I haven't been the same since. Talking with you like this helps me feel like myself again."_

Of course—the chat that Liara had confirmed to me. _Team Renegade Shepard,_ huh? _TRS?_ Interesting.

"I understand," I replied. "I don't mind that you all have someplace that's separate from me. I won't tell anyone I know. So don't worry about it. Like I said, I only want to make things right."

" _Okay… Then you have to promise you won't tell Liara that I sent this to you. Don't confront her over it."_

"I promise, Ashley. She won't know that I know. My main concern right now is making sure you feel safe with me. That's all."

Seconds later, I spotted the email alert to my omni-tool.

_From: Ashley – Proof._

_Shepard,_

_I attached that screenshot here for you. When you read the logs, I want you to remember the timing. Remember when Liara left my room, and when Tali and Joker started messaging me. I'm scared of what this could snowball into if you told anyone. If you told her. You have to keep your promises to me._

_Please, don't say anything. Liara's a valuable asset to the team… In that sense, I don't want to lose her._

_I don't want to lose her, even though I'm terrified of how much she wants you to herself._

_The mission has to come first. Right?_

_Right._

_-Ashley_

Attached was the single print screen she'd captured of the private messages that Tali had sent her.

Watermarked at the top: _Team Renegade Shepard._

The date, the timestamps: accurate from my memory, from the time that Liara had left Ashley's room in the crew's quarters, heading back to her own room after their tense conversation.

In these private messages, Tali mentioned that she had, just seconds ago, gotten Liara's permission to share: how they'd all overheard me fucking her in her room. How they'd refused to talk about it in the main room of their chat, to avoid Ashley finding out in such a sudden and awkward way. They hadn't wanted to disrespect Liara's privacy like that, either, despite how loud she and I had been that night.

Joker had restrained himself from spamming Ashley about this _godlike news_ until Liara gave the okay.

Up for interpretation: Liara had given them the okay, knowing that this would crush Ashley's heart.

Of course, I had advised then that Ashley should go ahead and read their messages—

Right after she had come out to me about her questioning, all but giving away that she did like me: this was how she had found out that I was already in bed with someone else…

And so of course Ashley had cried about it, raged about it. Of course something in her had broken.

And I'd heard it all.

I heard it again in my head, through those memories wracking me again, even now.

This fear in Ashley's voice, _now_ —there was no room for interpretation whatsoever.

" _Shepard…? You there?"_

Suddenly, so suddenly, I tasted blood in my mouth. Not having realized I'd bitten down on my back teeth so hard, I'd caught some of the tissue of the sides of my mouth in my grip. Then it started bleeding enough, just enough for this tang to wake me up to all that I had done; and all that I had spun.

"Yes, Ashley. I'm here."

I knew Ashley as a fearless person.

Bold, daring, direct—she wouldn't let anything stand in her way.

I'd had a feeling that Liara had done this. I had denied it, needing to see the best in her. _But now…_

" _Are you… Are you okay?"_ tried Ashley. _"You're dead silent. You're not—mad at me, are you?"_

"I'm not mad at you," I promised. "You did the right thing by showing me this. I had no idea. I'm really sorry about everything. I'm responsible for this. I shouldn't have slept with her. Again—I'm sorry."

_"I appreciate that, Shepard. But you're not okay, though. You're not. I can hear it in your voice. The way you control yourself so much…it makes me worry. Like you'll explode someday."_

"Come walk beside me," I told her, in fact trying _not_ to self-destruct.

" _I can't… I don't want to give her any indication that we're talking on this level. She'll know."_

This was beyond fucked up.

Ashley was terrified of Liara.

_Liara!_

What the fuck had I done to make things turn out this way? Why couldn't I have stopped everything once I sensed those dark vibes from her? Why had I given in like that so soon? And why hadn't I stopped— _not once_ —to consider Ashley's feelings, regardless of whether she was straight or not?

Then again, I already knew the answers to these questions. And I felt this shame over the raw truth:

I could _never_ tell Ashley—or anyone else—that I had practically used Liara as a distraction from her.

One more time: _"Hey, Skipper? Do you wanna talk this over? You're really getting me anxious here…"_

"I want to answer your question from earlier," I explained. "About why I chose her first."

" _Okay… Shoot."_

"I felt an irresistible pull toward her. And then, she unlocked this capacity in me—she opened my doors, opening me to the way I am with you today. If she hadn't done that, then you and I would have stayed on that same path. I would have kept avoiding you; you would have kept suffering in silence."

" _So, if it wasn't for her, you and I wouldn't be having this conversation right now?"_

"It's very likely, yes."

Ashley saw the gains there, and yet— _"And what about now, Shepard? Are you just gonna close yourself back off again? Is that even possible?"_

"I'm not going anywhere," I replied. "I can't. But, for now—we still have about twenty more minutes before we get to Peak 15. I have to take this time to think things through. You and I are just fine. We'll keep this going. _Slowly_. It's the rest that I need to think over."

" _I understand…"_

I sensed her last, lingering question: "What is it, Ash? Talk to me."

" _Could we, maybe, stay on the line? We don't have to say anything. I need to keep hearing you breathe, that's all… Sorry if that sounds weird or obsessive… I'm—kind of leaning on you hard right now, and…"_

I felt my eyes about to pour over with this building stream, heating the inside of my helmet.

I felt the same in my face, and down to my stomach—again, rising up to my chest, or at least trying to.

I felt the way Ashley had downright _magnetized_ to me, polar opposites as we already were.

For a fleeting moment, I feared that I was about to make the same mistakes that I had with Liara.

And yet…those fears left me as quickly as they'd arrived.

They left, and vanished, and disappeared forever, if only because I knew the truth about this, too.

"That's fine," I allowed. "We'll wait until we get to the facility before we hang up. I'll be here for you."

" _Thanks, Shepard…for being so sweet and understanding. You're a lifesaver."_

Ashley was the main source of my real fears, for painful reasons that went way beyond any of this.

Those fears would only manifest themselves in due time, on their own time—and not a minute before.

* * *

Rising high above the valley was Peak 15's tower-like structure, the white and white beaming with lights as a house to guide any travelers through this snowy hazard. Down at the base of the facility awaited the garage, which led to the greater area of the rest of the building. As more salt in the wound, there was a destroyed Grizzly vehicle right next to the open garage, burning and flaming from a total wreck.

I took off my helmet as I stepped just inside the relative dark of the garage—compared to the sheer whiteout of the valley, anyway. I set about surveying the area. Helmets removed as well, Liara and Ashley rested a few paces behind me, with the flames from the wreckage acting as a bonfire while they sat and chatted together about snow and winter in general. Tali was nearby, busy checking her omni-tool, chiming in every so often.

No apparent bad blood between the three; not a single drop of animosity in their shared conversation.

None the wiser, Liara could not sense anything from me, or from Ashley from our walk here. I was aware that she was able to before, back on the ship, and even earlier than that. Whatever that connection was, I had blocked it as soon as we started the trek out to the valley, keeping her out of my head and out of my fucking feelings. I needed to deal with this alone without her hovering, her micromanaging me.

I sensed Ashley's determination to play this game with Liara: saving face with Liara, joking around with Liara, and pretending as if she had no intentions of _eventually_ taking me away from Liara for herself.

And I definitely respected the player, not the game.

Although, Ashley didn't _need_ to play Liara at all. I had already made up my mind on how to handle this.

Then again, I didn't plan on telling Ash about any of that—not by a long-shot.

Cloaking to transparency, I took a look inside the garage.

Scores of asari commandos stood around in that dank darkness of the space. Holding their shotguns in-hand, they waited around there in a strangeness about them… No real life emanating from them, the commandos swayed back and forth a bit, almost like zombies in how deadened they looked and felt, even from back here. Melding in with the dark, they melted in that obscurity around them, dozens and dozens of them occupying this area as if by someone else's will, by someone else's command.

All they did was stand there with their shotguns, the black of their commando uniforms blending into their surroundings, _waiting…_

Checking the research facility's schematics through my omni-tool, I found a similar story throughout the rest of Peak 15—or at least this Central Station where we were at now. I picked up on at least a hundred different signatures identifying Benezia's many asari commandos, scattered throughout the whole place. She had brought an entire army with her, all to keep other people out of this complex.

I could have cloaked past them all; I could have assassinated Benezia alone and handled this by myself.

Looking back to my team speaking together in lightness, I knew that they would have been disappointed with me if I didn't bring them along. Plus, it would've been such a waste—all of us had made this hike through the valley, after all. I didn't want them to feel like it had all been for nothing.

Checking the schematics once more, I found a series of vents and beams that tunneled through the entire facility—including both Central Station and Rift Station. I mapped out a path for us to take to get us through Central Station and over to the Binary Helix labs in Rift Station where Benezia was now.

All without being seen.

I just hoped that no one was afraid of tight spaces or tall heights.

Until we could get that far, though, we would have to bust past this group here in the garage. There was no avoiding it—this was the only viable path I had. It took us through perfectly fine, but we would need to pass through the nearest elevator in order to get there.

And there was no way we could take on all of these commandos in a straight fight, so…

"Listen up," I said, uncloaking as I headed back over to the team. "I have a plan for how we're going to get through here. Benezia's currently in the Binary Helix labs over in Rift Station. We'll need to pass through Central Station, where we currently are, and take a tram over to where she is."

"Binary Helix?" asked Tali. "The genetics corporation, you mean? Why would she be in their labs?"

I explained to everyone, "Saren is a major shareholder for Binary Helix. Benezia is here on Noveria as his executor. It's no coincidence that an official team had to look into a Code Omega alert a few days ago while Benezia was already here. She must be researching something that she shouldn't be. Whatever she's doing, we need to shut it down and find out any information she may have on Saren's location."

"Sounds good, Skipper," accepted Ashley, leaving the so-called bonfire with Liara and Tali. "Her asari commandos will probably get in our way. What's the plan? Run-and-gun straight through?"

"Yeah, about that: we have a problem," I started, watching as everyone's faces fell. "But I have a solution." Lifting back up, for now—"You won't like it, though."

Liara frowned. "What do you mean, Commander?"

I gestured with my head for them to take a look inside the garage.

Together, they all peeked through for mere seconds—

Before snapping back to me, looking horrified.

Tali freaked out, "What are they all doing, standing around like that?!"

Ashley nearly shuddered. "Looks creepy as hell… It's like they're dead inside."

"So many asari commandos," worried Liara. "Why would my mother bring such an army with her…?"

I told them, "They're posted throughout the entire facility. I mapped out a path we can take through Central Station to the tram, across to Rift Station, and down to the Binary Helix labs. In order to get to the path, we'll need to break past this group first. Once we get to the nearest elevator, we'll infiltrate the building through the vents and overhead beams. We can avoid the commandos altogether."

Tali, Ashley, and Liara each stared at my omni-tool, at the glowing orange that beamed through the path I'd found with the Peak 15 schematics. They held onto that path, that beaming, accepting this unorthodox method—at least for them.

I was perfectly comfortable. In fact, compared to the hike here, this was like an amusement park for me.

I knew that they would need to rely on me if we were going to pull this off.

Internally, Ashley seemed to go back and forth—but she set that aside, looking to me for our next move.

"Now comes the part you won't like," I warned.

"Really, Shepard?" asked Tali. "You mean taking us out of our comfort zone to infiltrate this station _isn't_ the part we won't like?"

I pointed behind me to the commandos in the garage. "We need to get past them first and over to the elevator nearby. Whatever's going on with them, they're not completely out of it. They're not as alert as they could be, either. We have the element of surprise on our side. All we need to do is create an opening and make a run for it."

Ashley knew that this wouldn't be as simple as I made it sound. "If we're not taking them all head-on, how do we pull that off?"

I asked Liara, "Do you think your biotic field could withstand the impact from one of our grenades?"

Gaping at me, she replied, "Yes, it could… What are you suggesting, Commander?"

"Your armor today is black," I pointed out. "You could pass for an asari commando—at least in the dark, like here in this garage. I want you to head inside and walk over to them. Act as a decoy. I'll cloak and stay in front of you as an extra shield in case anything goes wrong. We'll head for the center of the area and draw all of them close to us."

"Hang on, Skipper," interjected Ashley, troubled. "Are you saying you want one of us to throw a grenade at the commandos to take them out? While Liara puts up a biotic field to protect you two from the blast?"

"That's right," I confirmed.

Tali shook her head, incredulous. "You're officially insane, you know that?"

I humored her, "I'm aware, Tali."

"It could work," agreed Liara, still wary. "Should the explosion fail to take out the entire group, we will need to hurry to the elevator. There won't be much time before they decide to retaliate. I will make sure to leave up an additional, static biotic field behind us, to prevent them from following in our path."

"That's the plan," I stated. "Is everyone clear?"

"All right," said Tali. "I don't like this, but there doesn't seem to be another way."

Liara acquiesced, "Very well, Shepard. I will do my best to protect us."

Ashley masked her fears. Of course she didn't want to risk anything happening to me. Of course she didn't want to lose me. And especially not after how much had changed between us in recent times. But, for the sake of the mission, she set all of that away, giving me her trademark perseverance instead.

"Roger that, Commander," she approved. "Who's throwing the grenade, then?"

"You are, Chief," I told her, watching that mask peel off through her eyes. "Throw the grenade on my signal. As soon as you do, you and Tali will need to run. Get to the elevator: it's up the ramp on the left side, then down the hallway. Think you can handle that?"

Loyalty undying as Ashley saluted me—"Aye, aye, Sir."

I let myself smile at her, briefly.

More peeling, more reeling from her—all on the inside.

Not noticing the same, Tali handed Liara her shotgun. "Here, Liara," she said. "You won't make for a very good asari commando without one of these. This should help you blend in for a while longer."

"Thank you, Tali," accepted Liara, taking the gun in her hands. "I'll be sure to return this to you soon."

Pistol in-hand—just in case—I asked, "Liara, you ready?"

"Yes, I am ready. Lead on, Commander."

I activated my tactical cloak again.

Preparing her grenade for the most effective explosion radius, Ashley took a moment to regard this shimmer of me. Her stare gave just enough away—less of a _good luck_ from her to me, and more of a promise that I could count on her.

For the first time in a long, long time, I felt myself genuinely trusting in someone again.

I headed through to the garage with this trust, and with Liara trusting me as she followed right behind.

This dark of the garage gave her the perfect cover, blending in with the horde of the other asari all around. In their touched silence, the commandos watched Liara nearing them, and in-turn, they neared her, wanting to see her better. Drawn to the familiar blue of her skin, the black of her outfit, and her temporary shotgun, they found nothing suspicious, merely seeing her as another one of them.

I stopped, and Liara stopped with me, her front pressed against my back.

Not quite in the center of the garage, but close enough to the ramp leading to the elevator—we would have enough space to run. And behind us, Tali and Ashley would soon have a clear path, able to get up to the ramp from their end, too.

The commandos kept shuffling closer, deadened in their movements.

From right at this spot, Liara could put up a perfect spherical field, keeping us safe and giving us just enough room to get the hell out of here.

I gave the signal via radio, "Now, Ash."

Her confirmation: _"On it!"_

Biotic blue breached out to the space around us, above us, reaching out as a wide sphere all around. Blocking out any of the commandos, Liara sheltered us in this field of pure defense. Blocking the grenade right as Ashley lobbed it in our direction, she protected us with such an ease. Blocking us from the spatter of flesh and violet blood from the commandos exploding, detonating on impact from Ashley's grenade, nothing reached us here.

I felt as if she'd finally unlocked the rest of her biotic potential after having held back for so long.

Holding her hand to make sure Liara kept up with me, we ran up the ramp together. She deployed another field behind us—a solid wall of see-through blue—keeping the stragglers from following us. Sprinting across this elevated area, I saw Tali and Ashley make it safely across to the hallway leading to the elevator. I had us catch up with them.

Inside the dawn's light of the elevator, I rammed my fist against the button, taking us down one level. Once I did, I took a few seconds to survey everyone. Liara looked just fine as she handed Tali her shotgun back. Tali, as well, seemed to be okay, catching her breath a little. Ashley was a little shaken, as if she couldn't believe we had pulled this off.

Liara couldn't maintain that last biotic field indefinitely, though.

And I didn't want those other commandos to catch up to us; to figure out where we had gone.

"Tali, jam the elevator," I ordered, kneeling down to open the emergency escape hatch. "Do it now!"

"Right away, Shepard!" said Tali, using her omni-tool to fry the elevator's systems.

Halfway between levels, the elevator stopped.

I pulled open the hatch, finding a ladder that continued leading down.

According to my schematics, there was a vent just nearby here that would lead us to the next location.

I went down first, finding enough footing on this thin perimeter of steel that wrapped around the elevator shaft. I gestured for the others to head through next, watching to make sure they didn't fall down to the drop below—so far down, I could only see pitch black angling out to that narrowed horizon.

As they each made it down to me, I held their hand, helping to secure them here on this slice of steeled ground underneath us. All three of them, their hands in mine, one at a time, sent sheer stimulus through me, _from_ them. Strong from Tali, stronger from Liara. Though they couldn't compare to this last:

Ashley in particular—holding her hand was like putting my palm into an open flame without the pain.

But I couldn't let myself focus on that right now—we needed to push forward.

"Come on," I said, leading the way to the nearby vent. "We'll head through here. This will get us to an open cafeteria for the facility's workers. There should be an upper path we can take across to the next location. Keep an eye out for it."

Liara used her biotics to help her maintain her balance as we headed across. Tali and Ashley took a bit longer, needing to keep their hands pressed against the steel walls as they went. As there was surprisingly enough room to maneuver inside the vent, I went in first. Monitoring Liara, and then Tali as they crawled through just ahead of me, they had both seemed to adapt to the situation well enough.

Screeching of weight against this steel—the elevator overhead was about to fall through.

Ashley was still too far away to make it on her own.

I scrambled out from the vent and over to her.

Feather-footed and swift even with my combat boots, I pulled her along, replacing her nearly-lost balance with my own, fortifying her. Ashley fretted and cursed as I moved her with me, trying to get her to go faster. She wouldn't trust me; wouldn't trust herself. The screeching overhead growing louder, clanking in a rankling noise, like nails against a chalkboard. She couldn't focus; couldn't stop shaking with Liara and Tali screaming our names, for us to hurry, _or else._

Ashley hesitated, and hesitated—until she stopped.

She froze.

I couldn't budge her.

"Ash," I hissed, pulling at her to no avail, like tugging at stone. "Ashley, come on! We have to get going!"

"I hate heights like this," she panted, shaking her head against my chest over and over. "And I hate tight spaces. I hate all of this! I hate it, Shepard, I hate it—I can't think, I can't move—"

Claustrophobic _and_ acrophobic.

And she hadn't thought to warn me before we did this…

"Shepard—Ashley!" shouted Liara, willing herself to use her biotics to pull us into the vent. "You can't stay there! The elevator!" Her biotics kept bouncing off of our shields; the elevator cracked in another shift of its weight falling over itself, about to fall. _"Ashley, snap out of it this instant and move!"_

I couldn't risk us staying here any longer.

I wrapped my arms fully around Ashley's body, clamping my grip over her.

Leaning back, I pulled her along with me by my body's momentum, free-falling to the pitch black below.

Falling harder into me, Ashley burrowed her face hardest against my chest, barely stopping herself from screaming. Screaming from Liara, screaming from Tali faded the farther we fell. _We had time_ , though. We had time, as my navigational system rerouted itself using my schematics. We had time before the elevator above gave in and crashed down.

I adjusted my hold over Ashley with this time. Hooking my arm underneath her legs, I kept my other around her back to carry her properly. Her own vice-like hold around my torso nearly suffocated me. She kept her face plastered against my chest, keeping her eyes wide shut right through to my heart. The heat of her hot breaths, her silent screaming, burned through the material of my stealth suit. I cradled the back of her head with my hand, at least, to let her know that we would be all right.

Flashing warnings from my omni-tool—this drop was too severe, and we would land soon.

I waited for as long as I could, needing this boost from our velocity, free-falling at this sheer speed.

Ashley gripped me harder, somehow, speaking just loud enough in her prayers—" _God_ , Shepard, I'm sorry! I love you, _I love you;_ I'm sorry for getting us killed, I'm sorry for getting us killed like this—"

Lifted by her love, I knew I had to pull this off perfectly.

More flashing from my omni-tool—red, blaring, _imminent danger and death_ —

I had to do this now, or else.

Mechanical activation from somewhere around my lower-back, I willed for my landing system to kick in: the field from my augmentation began glowing a golden glow around me, and around Ashley here with me in my hold. In this bodily halo, an electromagnetic focus held at me, aiming at the ground. Down to that nearing snowy fall, so close, so close, the gold around us pushed against the ground, against the magnetosphere there, slowing our descent, slowing and slowing to a glide, to a gradual halt.

Slowing to a near-stop as we reached the ground, I could let my boots reach the crunch of the snow as normal, landing with the bends of my legs as my hydraulics.

Ashley relaxed her tight grip around me.

Staring around at the snow-cold steel of the base of this elevator shaft, she breathed out, "We're…still alive? We _didn't_ die from the fall…? Shepard, how did you—?"

Screeching echoes from overhead, bulleting down—the elevator collapsed down the shaft, on its way.

Elevator doors just in front of us were closed—I would need to use my omni-tool to unseal the doors; I would have had to set Ashley down, to use both hands to pry the doors open, and then get myself out; possibly risking her getting crushed if I couldn't pick her back up in time.

Another vent near the ground, right nearby, but sealed.

Still carrying Ashley in my arms, I knelt down next to the snow, to the vent. Using my left hand just behind her head, I worked my omni-tool to burn away at the square perimeter of the metal filter. Burning, heat melting, I had to be precise. I had to follow the line. I had to concentrate while that metallic screeching from up above raced down and down, nearing. I had to block it out, block it all out.

Again, Ashley held onto me as I did this, praying, praying, and praying to God with her love for me.

Prayer, or luck, or both, or something more—I pulled the metallic barrier off, throwing it aside.

Amid that clanging, I fit Ashley's head through the vent first.

But she wouldn't let me go— _she refused._

Loudening crashing, thundering from up above, I hurried to fit us both through at once.

Lunging through with the snowy ground as my friction, I slid my whole height with Ashley into the vent.

Right at the ridges of my boots, the elevator crashed down to the ground in absolute noise, destroyed.

And then, the silence of the winds passing through here; the silence of Ashley's disbelief as she held onto me holding onto her. We lay here against the cold steel for a long while. Breathing in this reality, I gave her a moment to gather herself, and to find her steady breaths again, as irregular as hers were.

In that irregularity, I could almost see what she saw, feel what she felt:

Like a lock bolting my body in place, I could resist the sensation as a mere illusion, but this mirage came from such a strong, potent place, deep within my mind. And it didn't belong to me. None of this was—only from Ashley unconsciously pushing her own perception up and through to mine, collective.

" _Shepard!"_ cried Liara through my radio. _"Shepard, are you there? Are you alive?! Please, answer me!"_

No mention of Ashley, huh?

Even through her own recovering in my arms, shaking off her shock, I felt her animosity brimming.

I saw this as yet another reason to take Ash at her word.

"Ashley and I are all right, Liara," I answered. "The fall was manageable. We made it to a different vent instead. You and Tali keep going—we'll catch up to you at the tram to Rift Station."

Unbelieving, Tali asked, _"But Shepard, how did you and Ashley survive?! That's insane!"_

"During our briefing before Feros, I told you already," I reminded everyone—Ashley included. "I have other implants. I mentioned an Icarus Landing System augmentation. It helps me survive falls from almost any height. Within reason, anyway. Remember?"

" _Oh, right,"_ recalled Tali. _"You did mention that… And I'm guessing it worked for Ashley, too."_

"Yes, it did," I confirmed. "She'll be fine once the shock wears off."

" _I believe you. I just… Ashley, could you say something for me? Anything? I need to know you're there…"_

Ashley forced herself to mumble against my chest, "I'm here, Tali… Shepard saved me. I'll… I'll be fine."

" _That's a relief… We were so worried! I'm glad you're both okay."_

Matter-of-fact, Liara continued on, _"Shepard, where do we go from here? We've arrived above what looks to be the cafeteria you mentioned. There is a beam we can cross near the ceiling. Given the number of geth down below, we will have to cross over."_

"There are _geth_ in there?" I questioned, checking my omni-tool for signatures. "This is recent… I didn't pick up any of them on my radar once we got here. Must have been what Benezia had in those crates." Checking the original path once more, I gave directions: "Support each other across the beam. When you make it to the other side, there will be another vent. Head right and there should be an elevator. Go down one floor, and you'll arrive to the facility's VI core. You'll be relatively close to the tram."

" _Understood, Commander. Are you reading any hostile signatures in the VI core?"_

"None—you should be fine. Let me know once you get to the core. I'll guide you from there."

Tali wondered, _"How long do you think it will take you and Ashley to catch up to us?"_

Checking the rerouted path again, I realized: we couldn't go through any other vents, or risk crossing too many elevated areas. If Ashley locked up again, we might not have been able to pull off the same thing twice. I couldn't put her in harm's way like that, now that I knew her pressure points.

I rerouted the path one more time, specifying what I wanted to avoid.

Beyond this current vent, there were no others, and only one long beam over a stressful drop.

Only having to deal with _one_ occurrence was better than slogging through multiple of them.

My omni-tool showed our estimated arrival, but I still needed to factor in Ashley's current state of mind.

"About an hour or so," I lied, even as the estimate showed only twenty minutes. "We'll need to cloak together and sneak past more groups of those commandos. It's a long way back up to you."

" _I see,"_ worried Tali. _"I guess we won't have any choice but to wait for you at the tram. If we tried to reach you, we would likely run into more enemies. We shouldn't waste time fighting in that case."_

"Agreed. Now get going. I'll wait to hear from you once you make it to the VI core. Shepard out."

As soon as the call ended, Ashley's earlier animosity left her, dissolving to this limited space.

Frustrated with herself as she was, I sensed that she at least wanted to talk to me.

Spotting an opening up from where we were, I decided to get us over there. I knew that Ashley still couldn't move. Not on her own. So I got on my knees, pulling her closer into my hold, enough to move with her just like this, one shuffle at a time. She breathed harder against my chest, listening to me. And I pushed away these memories I had of Liara, of having done the same for her before, out in arid heat.

Reaching a comparatively open space, this was much better. Here at this height above the elevator doors, the ice-hardened glass showed a path that burrowed right through the mountain, leading down elsewhere to another lab. Snow coated the path from that burrow, and over to the elevator, along with the nearby power generator just below us, just below the glass.

Even if someone were to pass through here, the jagged edges of ice through this glass would obscure Ashley and me from view. I sat her down against the wall of metal, and then took my own seat right next to her. We could stay here for a while.

Except this chill almost cut at me. The cold fog of breath that Ashley let out was enough to make me activate my emergency heating for her, for the both of us. She only shivered once before warming right back up, her breaths still as a vapor, as mine were, of heat continuing to blow against the freeze.

I asked her, "You all right?"

Quiet, Ashley responded, "Getting there… Still can't believe you pulled that off. You really _are_ a lifesaver…" She spotted my omni-tool showing our actual estimated arrival time. "I thought you said it would take us an hour to catch up to them. Why does your program only say twenty minutes…?"

"I lied. You need some time to pull yourself together. I didn't tell them because I know you're embarrassed about what happened. Saying something would've made things worse for you—"

So deep in love with my consideration, Ashley rushed her mouth over mine. Searing me open and scorching at my control, she pushed at me, pushed into me in this _desperation_ she couldn't stand, but couldn't resist anymore. As this adoring assault against my senses, she straddled my waist, the rigidness of her armor pressing down on the fabric of my stealth suit. And I gripped her hips without thinking, only-too-late realizing it once she sucked in a gasp through my mouth, moving into me more.

Luscious, firm fullness of her lips against mine, the way Ashley fit into me was so fucking perfect—exactly as she had last night, and earlier this morning—so much so that I couldn't stand it. Agonizing temperature in my chest: every thick press of her tongue against mine, every slow, succulent snap of her lips over mine and nearly on my teeth—her passions burned me like no other, making me ache _so badly._

And this taste of her mouth, of thin wetness mixed with mine—Ashley's flavor of hormones, her gently-salivated skin reminded me of ice water, somehow. Dousing me in the remembrance of much colder ice, the eternal heat and comfort of her irresistible lips set me right back on fire, over and over again.

Doing this with Liara had incinerated me as a single action, as something to end and then set aside.

Doing this with Ashley had thrown me _in_ the incinerator and slammed the door shut, _burning me alive_ —

I had to pull away.

I had to turn my head away.

I needed to inhale the freeze of the air around us.

Every breath of white mist I let out may as well have been black smoke from my insides set on fire like this, eternal and unending, even as Ashley kept straddling at me, staring at me.

If I met that stare of hers, I already knew what I would do.

Ashley touched my heated face, stroking this red camouflaged through my complexion.

Even with her hand gloved and armored like this, I still felt her as skin-on-skin, so indulgent.

Ashley brought her lips right next to the clench of my jaw, whispering in wintry gentleness, " _I think_ …you just gave yourself away, Shepard. Never thought I'd see the day when you'd give me so much of yourself. You must like it when a girl catches you off-guard… _For once."_ Lowering her hand to my neck, my pulse, she smirked at this drumming against her, laughing in girlish mischief. "Mmm, you _totally_ gave yourself away! No clue why you're acting so shy, though. What are you embarrassed about?"

I could run from her for days, for weeks, for months or more—and this sheer energy and entropy wouldn't have left me.

Or I could have stayed, giving into this temptation, this near-reflex to grin, to smile at Ashley over how happy she was. And that _I_ was the one who had made her this happy, this carefree, so child-like.

I couldn't tell her that.

I couldn't say the words.

She already knew, anyway:

Thermodynamic, raging firestorms—everything combusted more and more when Ashley laughed again, easing her smile against my neck. Breathing me in, she hummed in a low, sexy sound of satisfaction. Her lips, again, she clasped over the sweating skin of my neck, her tongue tasting me, salt and nerves and grime and all. In her delicate pressing, moaning against me at this taste of the day, this taste of the mission on me, she moved her hand down to my chest, to my heart. She felt the same drumming there, harder this time—primed to burst out of my bones into her hand if it would have stopped this pain.

"Hey," murmured Ashley, holding my face now. "Look at me, Shepard. Talk to me for a bit before we have to go." Moving with her guidance, I faced her again, but couldn't meet her eyes. "You hold so much inside. I wish you'd share it with me. Besides, we both could've died back there… So, at least…tell me _a little_ about how you feel for me. Give me something to hold on to. Please?"

" _Something_ …about how I feel for you," I reiterated, needing to make sure my voice still worked.

Ashley smiled again, so beautiful. "Yeah, anything at all. I wanna know."

I struggled so hard to hold on to these last scraps of this dam over my heart.

"Honestly, Ash, it's a lot to handle… It's a lot to describe. If I had to sum it up, then it's…like an onslaught. A fire. An onslaught of fire on my emotions, burning me at all times. This hurts— _so much."_

"I know, right?" she agreed. "Like it could melt the ice around us. It's the same for me, too. With you."

"It's…overwhelming," I anguished. "And it goes against what I said earlier, about taking this slow."

Ashley got the hint. "That's true," she noticed. "Guess I'm not helping, huh?" She moved herself from my waist, sitting next to me, right next to me instead. "Sorry, Skipper." Resting her head against my shoulder, she sighed. "I promise I won't be that forward with you again. Not in-person, anyway… And not unless you want me to be. Considering what almost happened, I kind of lost myself there."

"Don't worry about it," I accepted. "You were perfectly justified."

"Justified…doing the right thing," she mused. "You're way less impulsive than I am, that's for sure. As soon as I see an opening, I take it. It's hard to make myself wait. But I can be patient for you…"

I sensed that she had more on her mind. "What is it?"

"Why do you _need_ to take things slow with me?"

I couldn't blame her for asking that.

I explained, "I get what you're thinking, Ash. The fact of the matter is, I moved too quickly with Liara. I gave in to her and made concessions that I shouldn't have. Thinking back on it, I'm not sure that I got involved with her for the right reasons. There's a lot I forced myself not to face over this past month."

Ashley asked in concern, "What do you mean?"

More of what I'd suppressed:

"I tend to stick to women who like me way more than I like them. Makes it easier to feel like they won't leave if I get in too deep. Even if it means they obsess over me to the point of turning me off, that's what I'm used to. It's what I know. It's what I'm comfortable with. I found that same comfort in her without realizing it. And then you came along, pulling me right out of my comfort zone. You stopped me from falling into that old familiarity any more than I already had."

"But Shepard, don't you think…?"

"That you like me way more than I like you," I finished for her.

"Well…yeah," she whispered. "What else could it be, if not that? I've… _I've_ _loved you_ for five years now."

"I'm not _comfortable_ with you, Ashley," I clarified, so moved by her. "That's the major difference."

"You mean Liara doesn't challenge you at all? Not one bit?"

"She challenged me when she opened these doors in my heart. But now that I'm starting to see her for who she is, I don't like it. _I hate_ how much she hurt you. I despise it; I can't fucking stand it."

"It's that serious for you?" wondered Ashley, in genuine curiosity. "How come?"

"Injustice is a deal-breaker for me," I stated. "Not just about crime. I hate when someone thinks they're better than others, or when they look down on people because of their damned egos. Anything could happen. There are no guarantees. We could lose our status, our power at any minute—and then the people we looked down on would have every excuse to treat us the same way. That's no way to live."

She knew, "And even when you _are_ mean, or if you take extremes, you're always justified…"

"Pretty much," I said. "If someone needs to make the tough choices, be controversial—fine. They should take decisive action. But if it's not justified, then fuck it. It's never worth it for petty bullshit like this."

Ashley wanted to keep rationalizing, to understand me—"Even though she didn't do this to you, it still makes you mad? It still pisses you off? You'd turn on Liara at the drop of a dime like this— _over me?"_

"Ashley, it's _because_ I'm able to turn on her that I'm choosing to do it now. If I couldn't do it, then I would be stuck on her. And if I was stuck on her, I wouldn't feel this way about you. The idea of being stuck on someone like that—not being able to shut my feelings off and walk away… It stresses me out."

And then she did understand: "No wonder you're so guarded… You _are_ just trying to protect yourself."

"It's too late to keep protecting myself from you," I explained. "That ship has sailed by now."

"Then, aside from the regulations, why won't you give your heart to me? Why do you hold back? Or is this just about taking things slow, to help you make sure that this is right?"

In choosing to be this considerate, I had given her some of my heart.

And I already knew that this was right—that Ashley was worth it.

But I couldn't keep making the same old mistakes with the women in my life.

Now was the time for me to change my ways—otherwise, _nothing_ would change.

"Ashley, it's not that simple," I insisted. "I care for you. More than I can express right now. This isn't about changing my mind on whether I want you or not. I need to see if you and I speak the same language on a mental level, on an emotional one. And if we don't, can we get along? Could we trust each other and work things out? That's what I don't know yet. That's what I need to take my time with."

Embracing me in her gentle joy, in her relief, Ashley smiled against my shoulder.

"I completely understand," she conveyed, sincere in her approval. "I'll be honest—I'm used to dealing with dumb drama from other people. And I guess _I'm_ drama sometimes… But I love that you're so thoughtful and mature about this, Shepard. I want to follow your lead. _I will._ I just hope you won't get turned off by me at some point. I mean, we're pretty much polar opposites in terms of our personalities. Like, I'm way more of a hothead than you are—and I can _really_ have my moments…"

"Be yourself with me. Follow my lead, and go at my pace—but I want to see you for you, Ash. You're so bold and outgoing. Full of life. It's part of why I like you this much. Don't ever compromise who you are."

The warm tenderness of her smile, Ashley settled against my face, holding me tighter in her arms.

"You're one of a kind, you know," she breathed next to my ear. "Thanks—for everything…"

Even the way she didn't mind my reticence, how I couldn't return her touch, her affections right at this moment—all of it made me melt into her, not wanting this moment to end. And she still made me smile.

Then again, we had to push forward with the mission eventually.

Such a reminder Tali gave us when she called, _"Shepard, are you and Ashley still there? Sorry we took a while to give you an update. We ran into a few problems, but we're all right now."_

"I understand, Tali," I replied, glad that Ashley chose to stay on me for this. "What happened, exactly?"

" _Well, when we arrived to the VI core, we found several large…insect-like corpses lying around. Liara thinks they might be rachni. That could be what her mother has been up here experimenting with. I suppose you wouldn't have picked them up on your radar, since they're all dead."_

Checking my omni-tool again, I confirmed, "Yeah, I'm not seeing anything about _rachni_ , or even any unknown, uncatalogued signature types. The rachni, though…? I thought they all went extinct during the Krogan Rebellions hundreds of years back. There's no way any of them should still be around for Benezia to experiment on at all."

" _I know, it's very strange. We couldn't look around at first because the other rooms leading out of the VI core were blocked off. So we had to waste a bunch of time getting the VI back online, and following its instructions to help repair the station. We can continue on now if you have those next directions for us."_

"Good—let me pull them up," I said, taking a look. "Right, so you want to head to the decontamination chamber next. If you're facing the elevator where you came from, with your back to the actual VI core, it's the door on the right. Pass through there and you should find the tram not too far down."

" _Oh, I see it!"_ replied Tali. _"Yes, this is the correct door. Liara and I will head through to the decontamination chamber, then. We'll wait for you and Ashley at the tram once we get there."_

"Understood."

As we ended the call, Ashley sighed, separating herself from me.

I wished we could have stayed here longer, too.

But we had to get moving.

"We only have to crawl through to the exit nearby," I guided. "It's by the elevator—or the doors, anyway. Then we'll jump down and head to the next area. Will you be okay—about this vent?"

"I'll manage, Skipper," replied Ashley, shifting gears with ease. "Lead the way. I'll follow you."

Following this new path, I moved past these windows, through to the connecting vent. I passed through and around the corner, finding one last filter to move out of the way. I could hear Ashley's quickened breathing reverberating off of the metal around us—quickened, but manageable, as she'd said. I felt her putting more trust in me, allowing that to see her through.

Once I made it to the filter at the end of this vent, I situated myself around, kicking at the metal. Kicking it off and out, the steel fell down to the snow below. I checked behind me to make sure that Ashley had caught up. Seeing her rounding the corner, I jumped down to the ground, the weight of my combat boots breaking the blow of my fall well enough, without me needing to bend my legs too much.

Not quite confident enough to do the same, Ashley fit her legs through the opening first. She had plenty of room to angle her head out as well, the bend of her body still sitting in the vent itself.

I reached up to her armored legs, locking them together as I pulled her down.

Supporting her more around her back, I held Ashley in place, lifting her down as I bent my legs this time, lowering her reinforced boots to the snow. She kept her hand just over my back, over my shoulders, both to support herself and to thank me—all in a way I found so…soothing and validating.

Standing anew with her, I enjoyed her smile, even with this question on my face about her phobias.

"Yeah, about that," began Ashley, still smiling. "I got up to some dumb trouble when I was a kid. Imagine me as a tomboy roughing around in a space station where I wasn't supposed to be. I got stuck somewhere up high, in a cramped space. I couldn't move. All I could do was scream and stare down at that long drop. My Dad had to come and get me. He wouldn't let me hear the end of it for _months."_

"I can see you getting into that kind of trouble," I told her, light enough. "Thanks for sharing with me."

Ashley smiled more. "You bet," she replied. "Well, I'm ready. Let's do this."

She was about to pull out her trusty Lancer assault rifle, out of pure habit.

I stopped her with the reminder: "You don't need that, Ash. Not yet. We're still doing this my way—at least until we get to the tram. Save it for now."

Like setting away another one of her limbs, Ashley holstered her rifle over her back.

I held out my hand to her.

Trusting me again, and smiling again, Ashley let me hold her hand, situating mine _over_ hers, fingers interlaced through these blockings of our respective choices of wear.

Cloaking with her, we headed out together, over to the next room.

This supply line raised upward across several floors, with a long staircase along the edge of the room. More of those asari commandos stalked around the space, deadened in their movements; searching for everything and nothing at all. In their stupors, it made it that much easier for me to lead Ashley up to those stairs, avoiding the hostiles in our way. She kept up with me with ease, not thinking twice as I led her; as if she could have closed her eyes and walked, without stopping in fear or uncertainty, not once.

Even as we nearly breathed on some of these commandos to walk around them, Ashley didn't hesitate.

She stayed with me, having learned her lesson from earlier: to stop doubting me, now, finally—now that I was able to be this for her, after spending so much time resisting it before.

And I knew—that if it ever came down to it, and we were in a straight-up gunfight where I couldn't escape on my own, I could see myself trusting her to push through. She had a lot of unused potential, too, now that I noticed. Hopefully, it wouldn't have gone unused for too much longer.

But by the time we made it to this final obstacle just near the VI core—a long beam passing over several fuel tanks, and an even longer drop below to a few open flames—I expected us to have another setback.

Uncloaked with me now, Ashley looked to me with her anticipation.

She waited for me to lead her.

The flame-coloring of this atmosphere around us, I glanced up first to the catwalks and pathways above. It would've been a lot simpler if we could've gotten up there instead. But in taking the most direct path as we could, getting up to that area was impossible at the moment. We needed to get across this beam, and then find another ramp that would get us to a back entrance to the decontamination chamber.

This beam, though: it was barely wide enough for Ashley and me to walk across side-by-side if I decided.

Or, in the worst-case scenario, I could have carried her if it really came down to that.

Not wanting to doubt her capabilities, I thought of something else instead.

Climbing up to this new footing, I found that it was sturdy enough to cross.

And if it wasn't, I could at least angle our descent to avoid those open flames on the other side.

I spotted Ashley staring off at those fires, likely thinking the same thing.

"Come on," I said to her, holding my hand out. "I'll support you across. It's not as far as it seems."

Ashley accepted my help, letting me pull her up with me.

Right before her breathing changed, I locked my hands around her hips, guiding her along. I wanted her in front of me. She moved with my wanting, walking ahead first as I stayed here behind her. Like that leap of faith I had taken with her, Ashley chose to move in a similar trance of instinct and intuition.

Leaning her back against my front, she continued across this beam. That sharp drop below, the hissing of the fuel tanks, and the billow of the embers in our periphery: Ashley was fully aware of everything around us, and the risks below us, yet she pressed on in that awareness. If not for the quavers of her breathing, and the sheer grip of her hands over mine—still over her hips, reinforcing her balance—I wouldn't have known how she felt about this at all.

Only one hang-up—

I felt myself about to sneeze, still plagued by this damned cold.

Somehow, I pulled it back, swallowing this uncomfortable dripping down my throat, before sniffling, and unintentionally smelling Ashley's dark hair: how it smelled of the icy metal we had sat against earlier.

Ashley found the fortitude to ask me, "You okay…?"

"I'm all right," I reassured her. She leaned back against me, more. "I've got you, Ash. Almost there."

Relaxing as much as she could—relatively speaking—Ashley welcomed my words into her heart, continuing on and on.

All the while, I couldn't help feeling struck by how this felt like it was… _meant to be._

All of this.

_Everything._

Reaching the other side, Ashley jumped down to the metal walkway there.

As soon as she found her footing again, I jumped down with her.

I knew that she didn't necessarily need my praise. Still, I at least smiled, holding her hand anew.

Ashley beamed at me with her relief that we had made it across, accepting my hold once more.

Cloaking one last time—for now, in our incredible solitude—I led her up this ramp, up to the decontamination chamber, and back up to the reality of the mission, of the situation we now faced.

Regardless of whether Ashley and I both stayed quiet about this, the others were bound to find out.

Even if we said nothing, I already knew—and expected—that they would all feel this change between us, and wonder accordingly. Because as much as I struggled to contain this fire in me that Ashley had started, it would be twice as bad now, now that the rest of the team could intuit these ravaging flames.

I decided not to fight that inevitability.

I decided to focus on keeping my promises to Ashley, and to say nothing of the rest.

Whatever anyone else assumed…as long as it didn't end up hurting her, then I could live with this.

* * *

Letting go of Ashley's hand to put my figurative mask back on: this was more difficult than I'd expected. I should have expected this difficulty, though. This was one of the many reasons why I had kept my distance from her for so long. Because even though she knew not to be disappointed over this unlocking, from me taking my hand from hers, I felt her continued longing for my touch anyway. And she walked beside me with that longing, wearing it proud as her own type of mask, knowing that no one would have been able to discern what it really was.

At least for the time being.

At the tram, stationed in waiting as an extension of this facility's perpetual metallic blue, Tali and Liara stood up from where they had sat nearby. It didn't look like their conversation had been too deep, unlike the one they'd shared during the hike through the blizzard. And it didn't look like either of them suspected anything as they walked over to us, intercepting our path to the tram itself.

Liara wanted to smile at me.

I wouldn't look at her, too focused on getting to the tram doors nearby.

"There you are!" said Tali. "It's good to see you both in one piece."

_Mmm._

Ashley went over to Tali first. "Good to see you, too," she replied. "Sorry about earlier. Wasn't exactly my best moment… I should've told you guys I can't stand heights. Or tight spaces. That was my bad."

Opening the tram doors, I gestured for everyone to head inside.

They did so, still speaking; still _trying_ to make eye contact with me.

"Of course you _wouldn't_ mention it," reasoned Tali, knowing better. "Why make yourself vulnerable like that when you can keep your pride instead? And nearly get yourself killed in the process! That's the Ashley I know. I'm not surprised in the slightest."

"Gee, _thanks_ ," quipped Ashley. "I get what you're saying, though… I'll speak up when I need to."

"Ah, no, that won't be necessary. I enjoy almost having a heart attack from watching you and Shepard fall to your almost-deaths. Really. This should happen again."

Ashley laughed, taking a seat. "Okay, Tali, _now_ you're pushing it," she warned in good-humor. "You're traumatized. I know. I hear you. I promise I'll be _absolutely_ open with you from now on. Deal?"

"Deal," accepted Tali, sitting across from her. "How are you feeling, then? You seem to be all right."

Liara sat down next to Tali, again angling her eyesight to somehow meet mine.

As good luck, or bad luck—I didn't know which—I felt myself about to sneeze again.

That rushing collection of scratching _energy_ through my throat, my nose, making me heave.

I couldn't stop it this time—I angled my body out from the tram, sneezing off to the side, wracking me.

Tali and Liara both giggled over the suddenness, the surprise.

"Bless you!" said Ashley, grinning as I sat down next to her, nearest to the doors. "Catching a cold, Skipper? Thought you were safe from the blizzard outside. Did you get sick anyway?"

"Something like that," I grumbled.

Only once the tram began to take off in smoothness did Liara and Tali manage to calm down. Their joyful amusement persisted, though, along with Ashley's, helping to make this ride less awkward than I had originally prepared for. Still, we had ten minutes before we would arrive to Rift Station, needing to sit in this relative dark of the cobalt blue around us. As chill and comforting as this place was, I knew better:

I prepared myself for more to change within these next ten minutes.

But maybe that was cynical of me.

Tali and Ashley carried on a conversation about something else, not willing to tease me over my cold.

Liara chimed in every so often.

I had lifted the weight of my boot over my knee—instead of crossing my legs altogether like Ashley did next to me, so feminine—needing to stretch a bit like this. Even so, our legs managed to touch anyway. Her thigh closest to mine felt as a prop, or a pillow, helping me to stay as I was. This was all we could do in subtlety. And so I lounged my arm out, opposite her, across the top of the length of this seat. Already I imagined her here on this other side, replacing the seat with her shoulders instead.

Sheer vigor coursing through my veins—I needed to touch her.

I rested the back of my head against this seat, staring up at the ceiling of the tram; wondering how Ashley sounded when the sex was good. By the texture of her voice, I could almost hear her clearly.

As she shifted, I sensed Ashley thinking the same, about me—on top of her, pleasing her non-stop.

Tali hummed, checking her omni-tool. "Is it just me, or is it rather warm in here? I could have sworn I had my internal temperature set appropriately for this station. I'll need to adjust it again at this rate."

"Yes, it _is_ quite humid," agreed Liara, looking around. "Could there be a heater on nearby?"

"More than likely," accepted Tali. "Perhaps it's here as a convenience. Though I can't help but feel it hasn't been set up properly. This is definitely humid, not warm. Like there's an old furnace in here."

Quiet enough for only me to hear, Ashley let out the softest of sighs, sounding so very pleased with me.

This sudden, _humid_ pressure in my chest and in my head was about to make me explode.

Tali stood up. "Okay, this is strange," she worried, the orange of her omni-tool glowing in this partial dark. "I'm going to investigate. Something may be broken." Scanning around the area, she took her time, looking everywhere except over here. "I'm actually not finding any sources of heat… Hmm."

"I believe we will be fine, Tali," advised Liara, not entirely convinced. "Should anything begin to malfunction, it will have to reveal itself to your scans. I suppose we won't need to worry…for now."

Glancing over at how _apparently_ relaxed I was, Tali mentioned, "Well, Shepard looks comfortable enough. Ashley, are you warm at all?"

Ashley obfuscated in a fine, lovely tone, "Mmm, yeah, kinda… I'm okay, though. In case something does break, I trust you to be our handy-dandy mechanic."

Tali laughed as she sat back down. _"Handy-dandy,"_ she repeated in mirth. "You and your silly sayings…"

As the tram neared Rift Station, I managed to pull myself together, enough to study our approach.

Once more with my omni-tool, I mapped out the best way to reach the Binary Helix lab where Benezia was. I found that I could crawl through a series of vents, wrapping around to a place in the lab with a good enough vantage point. Depending on Benezia's physical location in the room, I could assassinate her with my sniper rifle as I had bargained on earlier. There appeared to be a large, tank-like structure in the center of the lab, elevated and in the way from the far side.

If Benezia was over there, I wouldn't have been able to make the shot.

Banking on Benezia being over there, I searched for an alternate route for the others to take on-foot.

Ashley watched my progress all the while, the orange light coating her eyes in a striking dawn-like glow.

Having her attention on my work like this made it easier for me to concentrate, and to do my best.

Locating a suitable path—the only path—there looked to be several other signatures, all of them packed along the med bay, the security rooms. Humans, turians, drones. Maybe some type of security force. If they were with Benezia, then they wouldn't just let my team walk straight through without a fight.

In that case, it was time for Ashley to redeem herself.

Tali noticed that I'd finished with this, asking, "Have a plan for our approach, Shepard?"

"Yes," I replied. "It'll be straightforward enough for the three of you. After we leave the tram, we'll head down for a bit until we find some elevators. One leads down to the med bay area and security. Take that one and head straight through. You'll find a sign above the Binary Helix labs. Benezia's waiting in there."

Liara needed to know, "Where will you be, then, if not with us?"

I responded, "Taking the long way through the vents. I'm aware that your mother's a powerful biotic. I get the sense that her barriers will complicate things in a straight-up fight. Plus, she's bound to have more of those commandos and geth at her disposal. So I'm heading to a vantage point in the lab. There's a location where the vents connect just right. I'll have room to go prone with my rifle and shoot there."

"Doing things your way, Skipper?" noted Ashley, smiling.

"You'll get to do things your way, too," I told her. "There will be several security guards and drones posted in your path. You'll need to push through them. I want you to take point, Ash. Lead the charge and get Tali and Liara to the lab with you. Once you're there, expect Benezia's army to be out in force."

Ashley sat up straight, complying, "Aye, aye, Sir!"

"Good. Keep your radio on so I can listen to your progress. Now let's get out here and get this done."

Once the tram finally stopped, the four of us headed out together.

Arriving to those elevators—one leading to the med bay, and another to the hot labs—Tali and Liara headed to the correct one.

I expected Liara to at least look back at me.

She chose not to, or she forgot to do it.

Ashley kept eye contact with me, unwavering. Stealth in these seconds, she knew we had only so much time to do this before she fell behind; before the others found us here like this. She gave me her determination during these seconds, though I sensed she needed me to give her something as well.

Something that I had never given anyone before.

I had only given mere imitations of this for expediency's sake—to make sure someone got the job done.

Not an imitation, and not for expediency: I truly wanted Ash to see that I believed in her.

Bolstering her determination, I told her, "Fight hard, Ashley. I'm counting on you."

Bolstered, absolutely, Ashley nodded to me. "Will do, Commander! See you on the other side."

We broke away—her to the elevator, me to the nearby vent—with our exchange lingering in our wake.

And now, as I crawled through these vents, knowing that I had a ways ahead of me, I felt the change in me. I felt it more as I listened to Ashley and the others through my radio—how they fought their way through the waves of security guards and drones in their way. I felt it again each time Ashley shouted out orders over the sounds of their gunfire and Liara's biotics—tactical orders for Tali to hack the drones in their way, general orders for Tali and Liara to hang back while she created an opening for them.

This wasn't an ordinary mission anymore.

Get in, get out, and get the job done—that was long-gone now.

The fire that Ashley had started in me extended to this, too. Not just my emotions, with her. Not just with the way she could _make_ me feel. A new involuntary process, reviving old systems in me that had long-since been cut off for my own self-preservation: that was what this fire had turned back on, reminding me that my life had more meaning these days.

Becoming a Spectre had notified me of those offline systems.

This mission, these surprises from today had powered them up again.

I moved with that power, finding even more concentration, and more determination of my own.

Tali gave me an update over the sounds of continued gunfire, _"Shepard, we've made it right outside the lab! Ashley and Liara are pushing back against another wave of security guards. I can get us through the door, but I'll need to seal it behind us to keep the guards out. Have you made it to the vantage point?"_

"Not yet. Get through that door and seal it behind you. Go ahead and confront Benezia. See if she's willing to talk first. If she won't cooperate, you know what to do."

" _Understood. I'm getting the door open now!"_

Continuing on through these near-endless vents, I knew I had a ways to go. The vantage point wasn't a straight shot from where I was before. On purpose, probably, the path wrapped me around to other locations before getting me into the actual lab itself. And even then, it was on the wrong side.

But this was better than getting shot at by dozens of geth and commandos, and with nowhere to run.

Sometimes, like now, I wished I had gone into a more direct specialization. I did feel a little cowardly, hiding and scurrying around like this, while not being able to protect my team like a 'real' leader. I had to rely on someone like Ashley who could put up a fight to the enemy's face, even though she was completely out of her element here in my world.

Not just polar opposites in our personalities, then.

Once the gunfire stopped from their end, I knew that Tali had gotten everyone through to the lab.

And then I heard a woman's voice: raised, commanding, confident. A leader's voice. An orator's voice.

That had to be Liara's mother.

" _And now you have finally arrived,"_ said Benezia, almost mocking. _"The time has come for us to end this—even with your temporary, lesser_ leader _… Though perhaps this will make for a fine test of her mental capabilities. Have you faced an asari commando unit before? Few humans have."_

" _Watch it,"_ warned Ashley. _"This human can still mess you up. Keep trying me—see where it gets you."_

Benezia ignored her threats, speaking on, _"Where is your commander, then? Is she wasting her time in the shadows, hiding away from the inevitable? Whatever she plans to do will not work. You must realize the discrepancy between us—how it is impossible for anyone to penetrate Saren's will. He will succeed in his endeavors, no matter your useless attempts to stand in his way."_

Liara chose to plead with her, _"Mother, you must stop this… You are not yourself! Though we left much unspoken over the years, I still know you. This is nothing like you! Why do you follow Saren? Why have you allowed him to twist you into this person I no longer recognize? You have become so misguided…"_

" _Misguided? My sweet daughter, it is you who is the misguided one. You hold such power, and yet you have chosen to squander it in your trivial weaknesses. Had you surrendered on Therum, you could have found your true calling at Saren's side. You and I could have found our peace together at long last. Now you are bound to be usurped by a lesser tool. You have only yourself to blame. How unfortunate."_

" _Power? Tool…?"_ questioned Liara. _"You speak in such riddles. What do you believe I have squandered? What exactly do you mean?"_

Benezia derided her, _"It is no longer of any importance. You have already wasted your potential. Soon it will be too late to recapture your power. And when you realize the only path to greatness, you will hesitate. You will hold back. You will allow your fears to shackle you. The tool will become the greater glory. And you will become a footnote, an asterisk in history—just as any deviant ought to be."_

" _A deviant… Is that how you see me? After all these years, you still don't understand. You know nothing about me… Just as these lofty claims of yours make no sense, you will never know me as I am!"_

" _I am your mother, Liara. I am all-knowing. I am all-seeing in these matters of your mind, your heart. Your darkness festers in you, unused and unrecognized. I chose to punish you for your dark ways. In so doing, I shattered you to these wondrous heights—heights that you now refuse to soar. You will only be bested at this rate. It is…ill-fated. Somewhere, my heart breaks for you. But your path is decided…"_

Echoing flare of Benezia's powerful biotics, and the weighty clicks of my team readying their weapons—

" _It is now my duty to save you from breaking any further! You must die—by my hand!"_

Liara's exertions, how she worked so hard to protect Tali and Ashley behind her—she should have fallen to Benezia's biotic blasts, shooting at her over and over again. No matter how powerful Liara had become lately, she still should have fallen. She should have been dead on arrival against an asari matriarch, and an indoctrinated one who refused to hold back, even against her own daughter.

If Liara didn't know her mother so well—enough to predict her powers, to understand her mind—I knew this would've been the end of her.

She protected the others with that knowledge, giving Ashley and Tali free reign to handle the outpour of geth and asari commandos swarming in from the lab's corner exits. I heard those firing shotguns and biotic abilities; pulse rifles, and the clicking and stuttering and malfunctioned honking from synthetics.

And now I had to hurry up to support them—to end this quickly.

" _Circling the perimeter to the far side!"_ announced Ashley, shooting her way ahead. _"She's got commandos running in non-stop up there! Tali, hold the geth coming out near the entrance! Can you keep them stun-locked with your combat drone and tech skills? Finish them off with your shotgun?"_

" _Yes, I will!"_ said Tali. _"If you need backup on the far side, just let me know! I'll do what I can!"_

" _Roger that!"_

Despite the sheer numbers against them, Tali and Ashley both had the advantage.

I trusted Tali to keep that stun-lock going for days if she had to, as skilled as she was with her tech. She could pick off the weakest geth with her shotgun, and snare more geth as they kept pouring through the door, chaining them in her deathtrap.

And Ashley was an absolute tank compared to those commandos. Their hit-and-run tactics left them vulnerable in the single, confined space of that lab where they couldn't run and hide. From the commandos' screams blasting through our radio, their weak barriers and armor couldn't withstand her onslaught, like fish in a barrel.

I finally found my vantage point.

Intersected between two paths, this filter was open just enough to let me work without detection. I could set my rifle down on this so-called ground of the vent, and go prone beside it, giving me plenty of flexibility to aim and shoot throughout the lab.

All I needed to do was line up the shot against Benezia, but of course, I couldn't at the moment.

There was some kind of structure in the way, right in the center, and raised from the rest of the lab. I could see Liara battling her mother with her biotics—or at least, the bright glares of blue and violet flashing everywhere—but she was behind the structure, up along that elevated platform.

And I couldn't exactly ask her to move: I knew that she was at maximum capacity.

Liara needed to fight where she was or not at all. Otherwise she risked dying to her mother's superiority.

Needing to think of an alternative, I used the scope of my sniper rifle to check around the room.

Tali looked like she was more than okay on her end. I could have likely asked her to investigate that structure; see if it was possible to move the thing. If not, I'd have to break out of this vent instead.

Ashley was fine, too, even as she pushed herself. In any normal situation, regardless of how paper-weak the enemy was, she shouldn't have been able to last this long. Her shields seemed to hold at a much greater level compared to what I had come to expect from her in battle. And if her shields did fall, she only needed to take cover behind the nearby crates for a second or two, giving her Lancer a brief break to prevent her rifle from overheating. She was ready to go in a near-instant, as if she'd never stopped.

So I picked off some of the commandos where I could, firing off headshots at anyone who was about to break her flank. I couldn't mind this booming noise reverberating through the vent after each shot I fired. I had to be precise, and I had to shoot with purpose, as I had little room to maneuver. And my shots were much slower than Ashley's, but I did keep her from getting overwhelmed at one point.

As time went on, though, there was no need for me keep at this.

As soon as I was about to pull the trigger on this commando in my sights, already the black of her uniform bloodied and burst open from assault rifle fire, right from Ashley's direction.

This kept happening over and over—more and more often now that she knew I was here, watching her.

Muting my radio, I muttered in amazement, "Well damn, Ash…"

Accepting that she could hold her own now, I shifted my focus back to ending this as soon as possible.

Looking to Tali still keeping up against those geth, I spoke over the radio again, "I'm at the vantage point. Ash, keep up the heat on your end. Liara, do what you can to hold on. Tali, are you comfortable with your stun-locking over there?"

" _Yes, Shepard, I'm fine!"_ responded Tali, before firing off her shotgun. _"The geth's numbers are thinning by the minute! I should have them all down in no time! I can help Ashley once I'm done here!"_

"Hold off on that for now. We need to take Benezia out. Liara's holding, but I won't risk anything happening to her. I can't get a clear shot from where I am."

Tali took a second to glance behind her, to that large thing in the way.

" _Right, you mentioned that there might be something blocking you. Do you need me to take a look?"_

"Yes—get up to the platform over there and see what you can find. Be careful. I don't want you getting hit by Benezia's attacks. Liara should be able to protect you. Just hurry."

" _Okay, no problem! Moving now!"_

Keeping Tali in my periphery, I did what I could to pick off some of those geth from this angle. She soon reached that elevated platform where Liara and Benezia battled it out. Waiting a bit to dodge that fight, Tali was able to slip through to the path right in front of the obstruction in my way.

Liara erected a wide biotic field just behind where Tali was, protecting her from Benezia's blasts.

I took note of the unusual strength of her field, drawing from the same font of power that Ashley did.

Or maybe not quite _the same._ Similar enough, at least, with both sources clearly revolving around me.

" _There's a control panel here!"_ said Tali. _"And there's a tank right in front of me. I should be able to move it if I… If…"_

"What is it?" I asked. "What's going on?"

" _I see some kind of…creature inside this tank. It's…it's staring at me. And it looks like those insects we encountered in the VI core. Keelah, is this—a rachni? It's definitely much larger than the others were…"_

"Ignore it. We have to get that thing out of the way."

" _But—Shepard, I think this is a queen! It's a rachni queen! If I move the tank, she'll be able to escape!"_

 _A rachni queen?_ What the hell?! Was _that_ what Benezia was up here experimenting on?

Shaking that off, I gave my orders, "Doesn't matter. Let her escape. I need you to move the tank, Tali!"

" _Understood,"_ accepted Tali, uneasy as she interacted with the control panel. _"Should be moving now."_ I watched as the structure lifted, high and up and out of the way, revealing Tali there—and Liara fighting her mother behind that field. _"I also see some of Benezia's things here. An OSD, schematics on Sovereign's layout, and her notes for Saren… Something about the Mu Relay out in the Terminus Systems…and—encrypted data on capital-class Reaper ships? Looks very useful. Should I take these?"_

"Take everything there and get to cover. I need to line up my shot."

" _Yes, Shepard!"_

Tali knelt down and out of the way. She scrambled over to the corner nearest to the last few geth. Continuing with her stun-locking from this distance, she deployed a new combat drone and refreshed her tech abilities, shooting at any geth near enough in range for her shotgun. After a few more rounds of this, she could head over and provide support for Ashley against those unending commandos.

As for Benezia, I had her in my sights through my scope, analyzing. Even as she scuffled with Liara, she wouldn't stand still for obvious reasons, likely knowing that I planned on assassinating her in this way. I could handle that; and I could handle her potent barriers that kept Liara's biotics from breaching her defenses. I trusted that my shot would make it through.

But Liara's extra biotic field may have posed a problem.

I could punch through one crazy source of biotic power, but two? I wasn't so sure.

"Liara, get that field down," I ordered, watching her every movement, zoomed-in. "I don't want to risk shooting through that _and_ Benezia's barriers. I'll take care of this from here. I need you to—"

Harsher than ever, Liara pushed back against Benezia as a rage of dark energy, managing to stagger her.

Short of breath, all she could do was stand before her mother kneeling there, glaring down in wrath.

There was no way she should have been able to take down an asari matriarch, no matter what…

Light returning to her eyes, Benezia seemed to awaken from something, breaking her indoctrination.

She lifted her head to stare up at Liara, at Liara's lessening anger, finding herself again.

" _My little wing,"_ I heard Benezia say through Liara's radio. _"You have grown so powerful… I did my very best to hold back, to prevent the worst from happening. Still, it is difficult to do so, even now. Pounding on the glass in my mind as my hands attempt to kill you—it almost feels useless. Pointless to try. I will fall again. You should… You should end me now…"_

" _Shepard, wait!"_ called Liara, kneeling down with her mother. _"Mother, please, can't you hold on? Can't you stay like this? Is it not possible to fight this indoctrination completely? There must be a way!"_

" _I'm afraid I cannot… Saren's will is too strong. Sovereign has already indoctrinated me to the point of no return… Forcing me to carry out Saren's wishes… It is too late to save me."_

Benezia kept enough control to hold Liara in her arms, one last time.

Liara let the moment get to her, lowering her guard.

I aimed my crosshairs right at Benezia's head, just in case—just in case.

" _Liara, you and the commander must go on,"_ implored Benezia. _"You must defeat Saren… You must…face Sovereign… You must defeat the Reapers when they return, and save the galaxy from this overwhelming threat. I believe in you. Find your reign. It is not too late to do what must be done…"_

Liara couldn't know what her mother meant. _"Please, won't you explain…? What is it that must be done? And what power do I have? You broke me, destroyed me years ago—I have nothing anymore. Nothing! How can you claim to know otherwise? Tell me, please—tell me before you lose control!"_

" _It_ is _control, little wing… It is control before destruction—just as I did to you. I apologize…for breaking your spirit, and for creating this hesitation that now plagues you… Know that I accept you for who you are. And I will always love you. May you find your courage to act…before…_ before _…"_

" _Before what, Mother? Before what…? Please—"_

Benezia grabbed Liara's head.

Nearly crushing her, she stood back up, dangling Liara in the air; biotics flaring, raging, unhinged.

Ashley broke off from her position, running toward them— _"Liara!"_

Tali ran up to the biotic field, pounding her fists at the wall there, helpless.

Liara reinforced her own barriers, keeping her mother from doing too much damage all at once.

She couldn't keep this up forever.

Shooting through Benezia's barriers, through Liara's field, around Tali's form—I had to concentrate.

Zooming in and crossing my sights over Benezia's heart—I emptied my mind, hands steadying.

Right at the center, and right when she stopped moving for mere seconds—I took the shot.

Booming of this sound, and the kickback from my sniper rifle: I blinked, and my shot connected, piercing through Liara's field, her mother's barrier, her mother's heart.

Benezia's hand and arm went limp.

Eyes rolling to the back of her head, she let go. She fell and slumped to the ground, lifeless.

Liara had landed back on her feet, breathless at the sight of what I'd had to do to save her.

She remembered to lower her biotic field at last, letting Tali hurry over to her.

As if in direct response, even more geth and asari commandos rushed into the lab, making a beeline right toward my team. If they kept standing there, they were bound to get surrounded.

I shouted my orders, _"Tali, Liara, Ashley! Get the hell out of there! Move it, now!"_

Ashley snapped out of it first. _"We're going!"_ she confirmed, making an opening. _"Tali, Liara, come on!"_

I watched to make sure the three of them ran safely out of the room. "Tali, seal that door behind you!"

" _Sealing it!"_ answered Tali. _"There, it's done! But there are more security guards out here!"_

"Shake them and get back to the tram! Get back to Central Station! Go the way you came, and find the garage! I'll call Joker for extraction directly outside the exit!"

" _Commander, what about you?!"_ worried Ashley. _"If we take the tram, that's your only way out of Rift Station! I'm not leaving you behind!"_

"Ash, there's no time for that!" I yelled, already crawling back through the vent. "I'll find my way over to you—just send the tram back to me once you make it to Central Station! Do you understand?!"

" _Understood, Sir! Shaking these hostiles and getting on the tram now!"_

Doing my best to rush through these tight spaces, I got Joker on the line: "Shore party to _Normandy!_ Joker, we need immediate extraction outside the Peak 15 garage area! How fast can you get here?"

" _Getting clearance to leave Port Hanshan, Commander!"_ confirmed Joker. _"The blizzard's gonna cause some visibility problems! It'll take me eighteen minutes to get to you! Not exactly immediate, I know!"_

"That's fine!" I allowed. "We still need some time to get out of this place. Just get your ass here!"

" _Aye, aye, Ma'am!"_

The entire research facility had activated against us.

Not even my cloak would be able to keep me safe once I made it to Central Station, since there were bound to be even more enemies trying to find me. I trusted my team to push through on their own—they had the firepower and the determination to do it, high from the adrenaline from the last fight.

I was going to have to take some _alternative measures_ to get out of this place alive.

Not quite halfway through these vents yet, Tali contacted me again, _"Shepard, we've made it to Central Station! We're sending the tram back to you, then heading for the garage! I remember the way there! There are quite a few more asari commandos and geth in our way. We should be able to run past them!"_

"Then I'll need you to take point now, Tali," I said. "Ashley didn't take the same path. She won't know the way, and I'm going into stealth mode soon. I can't give directions unless absolutely necessary."

" _Yes, of course! I'll lead the way! Liara will put up her biotic fields behind us when she can!"_

"Good. Stick together and get back to that garage!"

I had _less than_ ten minutes to get back to the tram area.

There were going to be hostiles posted over there, waiting for the tram to come back—waiting to follow after my team. If they got aboard first, that would've caused way too many problems for me. I had to hurry up, faster, to get there as soon as I could.

Emptying my mind as much as possible—

Pushing ahead, with all of my experiences that had led me to this point—

I made it to the vent that wrapped around the tram area.

Outside this opening I had made earlier, I could see several of those security guards standing around, waiting, but without their drones. Activating my cloak, I snuck around them, and over to the tram platform. The tram itself wasn't here yet. I still had a little bit of time. And the guards themselves were distracted in their own waiting: guns at-the-ready, they talked and _wasted_ this time, not nearly as alert and prepared as they should have been.

Crouching right next to the platform, like a cat, I waited.

I listened to the nearing rush of machinery, of the tram's arrival.

Only a couple of the guards seemed to notice, as the rest were still too busy with their conversation.

As soon as the tram pulled in, I slipped through the doors, still cloaked. I forced them to shut back, and for the tram to pull off again. Mostly avoiding detection—

One of the security guards noticed, and tried to catch up. He stuck his hand through the door, getting it _stuck_ right as they closed, making him scream. Sailing away with the tram's momentum, the guard flew on and on with the vehicle, hanging on by the grip of his soon-to-be-broken hand.

I pulled out my pistol and shot at his fingers.

Some far-off scream outside, and he fell away from the tram, left behind to crash against the rails.

"That's too bad," I said to no one, willing myself to sit down in the same place I had earlier.

I found my alternate route to take through Central Station—the only one I could take that would get me back out to the _Normandy_ in time, while avoiding all of those hostiles around. I couldn't afford to wait—if I took too long, the team would have to fight off anyone who followed them to the ship. We had to be out of here just before anyone could track them. So I accepted my need to pull off this stunt.

Not really able to empty my mind anymore, I took this time to process what Liara's mother had said.

I had a feeling I knew what Benezia had meant to say… _almost_. Not everything, not all of it.

And I knew that Liara still had no idea, too distressed over her mother's death to put the pieces together.

But I had already decided: I couldn't stay on this path.

I could navigate it, and I could decide what to do from here—but I couldn't keep doing the same thing.

Because throughout that whole interaction, I couldn't give a damn about Liara's actual emotions. _I cared_ , yes, but not in the way I would have yesterday, or the day before that. And that was just the thing—this _thing_ that we had, it had only gone on for a few days, despite the month I had spent lusting after her. Lusting after her, while ignoring my original curiosities about someone else.

I had to face the facts:

Instead of getting to know Ashley— _really_ getting to know her—I ran away. I ran because I knew that she would challenge me in too many ways. Just as she did now, like today. I ran because I didn't want to _care._

I had made a mistake with Liara, plain and simple.

I couldn't own up to my mistake properly, because I had promised that I wouldn't confront her.

Liara had definitely opened me to these new possibilities…and for that, I was grateful.

But all I could do for the foreseeable future was navigate, navigate, navigate these tight spaces, the tightrope and the fine line of keeping my promises to Ashley, and supporting Liara through her inevitable mourning. I knew that I would at least care for Liara. I would always… _care_ about her, in this tender space, and in these valuable lessons she had given me on how to stop running from my feelings.

Still, I had to take a side.

I needed to be decisive about this.

I needed to open my heart a little more to the _possibility_ that she wasn't right for me.

I needed to accept the fact that she wasn't able to be fair, to give me what little I did still want with her.

I couldn't blame Liara for her hesitations. She had made herself clear, and I respected that.

She couldn't _keep_ me if she kept hesitating, staying in love with her problems instead of moving forward.

And if that wasn't _fair_ of me, then oh well—too bad. I had to make a fucking choice here, or else.

I absolutely had to, now that my ten minutes were up.

Bursting through with my decision, I cloaked again, running across to my new path. Through the decontamination chamber, through the VI core, and up, up, and up, partway atop the mountain surrounding Peak 15—the same one we had trekked toward through the valley on our way here.

I ran across this snow, following my omni-tool's directions as it warned me about the imminent drop.

Spotting the _Normandy_ as a stretch of black and white down below, I uncloaked and kept running.

Gangplank leading to the lower level opened, waiting—Tali, Ashley, and Liara had almost made it there. They had spread out across the snow just outside the garage way under me, looking, searching around with their guns drawn. Even in this environmental hazard, and even without my shared implants to help them handle the cold, Ashley and Liara stayed out there with Tali anyway, needing to find me.

Lightning bolts of my legs striking through this thick snow, I couldn't let them know where I was.

All I could do— _was run._

" _Shepard, where are you?!"_ called Liara, her voice echoing up to me. _"We don't see you anywhere in the garage! Are you cloaked? Did you even make it across from Rift Station? Say something!"_

Freezing to the bone, Ashley started to lose her nerve. _"Skipper, you have to make it… You have to! If you don't respond in the next two minutes, I swear, I'm tearing this place apart to find you!"_

Tali consoled them both, _"I'm sure she'll be fine. Just—try to be patient for a little while longer…"_

This drop was way longer than the one from the elevator shaft…

Still, I had to see this through.

Focusing on Ashley down below—as near as she was to the gangplank, perfect for my momentum—I ran all the way to the edge. I focused on her, on her anger, her desperation, her need to find her control over this situation, and to find me—now, right now, right this second, or else—

Right at the mountain's edge, I vaulted across to the height below.

Bulleting down, this icy wind cut at me a thousand times without making me bleed, as high as I was.

Joker spotted me first from the windows in the cockpit— _"Holy shit… Shepard! Are you fucking CRAZY?!"_

Perfect performance with this audience: Tali, Liara, and Ashley looked up, finding this gunshot of me.

And so pitch perfect—I could have smiled from the sheer shock and awe about them, even Tali in her relative obscurity with her helmet. I could still see it anyway, seeing myself reflected there in the hard material over her face, shining in this blizzard.

I looked down at my landing point, nearing it now, so soon and so much quicker than I'd expected.

Clear and away from the others, I had enough room.

Enough room, finally, to run and to run and to run to my heart's content—only I had finally found a reason to stop running, to accept reality instead. As harsh and as cold as this reality was, worse than this weather, I felt this infinite flame in my chest keeping me warm, warmer than my implants could.

Soon enough, before, and right before, I activated my augmentation.

This golden halo around me, slowing my descent, and canceling my velocity out: I stuck the landing, legs bent, finding the snowy ground as normal again, all as normal.

Running up to the gangplank, I ordered the others, "Come on! We're done—let's get out of here!"

Finding their senses again, Ashley, Liara, and Tali hurried after me, back onto the ship.

And in this adrenaline, I had my clarity.

The mission came first; Ashley's well-being came first.

They had to become one and the same for me.

Anything less, and I could have lost it all, all over again.


	10. Thessian Wine

" _Afterglow" from Final Fantasy XIV: Stormblood / "Toxic (Peter Rauhofer Reconstruction Remix)" by Britney Spears_

 **X.** Thessian Wine

_(Shepard)_

This time had given me wisdom in ways I hadn't expected.

In time, I would come to learn just how much Noveria had changed my life—for better, or for worse.

And in this fine time, aging and maturing, I sat alone in my cabin, drinking this white wine that would forever remind me of Liara—with my email open to several messages from Ashley _in the present_ —thinking all of this over. But even as I drank this in remembrance, I felt firmly in the present, inescapable.

Three months had passed since that snow and ice had frozen me on this new path.

Four months since the mission began, and so much about me had changed in this time.

Technically autumn now, at least on Earth and on solar time, it was almost my birthday.

Tomorrow, I would be thirty years old.

Obviously, I chose not to make a big deal out of it. And I wasn't even certain if anyone on the ship knew. I hadn't spotted them sneaking around to make secret plans for the day, which was a relief. No one asking those not-so-subtle hinting questions about the things I liked, all as a ruse to figure out what I might have wanted as a birthday present. Then again, if they _were_ up to something, they would have used their drama-chat room to coordinate together. So I didn't entirely rule this chance out.

Besides, if anyone on the _Normandy_ would know my birthday, it would've been Ashley.

Not that Liara wouldn't have known. But she was used to Thessian time. So much so that Liara had asked me if we could visit her homeworld Thessia for a few days—for shore leave while we stayed at her childhood home, for her to square away her mother's affairs after Benezia's death. I had agreed: we were on our way there now, due to arrive in Armali, her hometown, within the next few solar hours.

Sipping more of this white wine, I scrolled to find the relevant email from Ashley—one of several that we'd exchanged over the past three months, just in getting to know each other. We had hundreds of messages to each other, all linked to the same chain, in chronological order. While she cleaned our guns down in the armory, or while I worked on admin duties for the ship, or while I was in between tactical briefings with Alliance brass, we would constantly write to each other throughout the days.

During missions, Ashley was as dedicated, as reliable, and as formidable as ever. She did her best not to give the team any indication that we had anything going on between us. Aside from her following me around like a puppy again whenever possible, she had learned to be as subtle as she could about this.

Because this was what I had limited us to—getting to know each other, taking this slow:

Emails— _many emails_ —private radio calls before bed at night, and talking in-person in the mess hall.

Oddly enough, Ashley seemed perfectly happy with this, following my lead just as she had promised.

So, whenever we were alone, I would let her steal a kiss from me in that sexy mischief of hers.

Nothing more…yet.

_From: Ashley – Re: Getting to know you._

_Shepard,_

_So what do you think about astrology? While we were talking the other day about religion, and how you're actually agnostic, it got me thinking. Not sure I buy the whole horoscope thing myself. Like, how could our personalities be based off of star alignments from when we were born? And I'm pretty sure things have shifted over the centuries. Isn't there some thirteenth Zodiac sign now? Who knows…_

_I was curious, so I looked up your birth chart anyway. Libra, an air sign. Your reading surprised me. It did sound a lot like you… How you can be diplomatic when you need to, smoothing things over. How you care a lot about justice and fairness. You're a people-pleaser. You need your balance and peace. You're drop-dead gorgeous and handsome at the same time… Everything about you is so beautiful. And you're supposed to be a real romantic, too… From what I've seen about you so far, I can believe it._

_This thing said you're indecisive, though. I definitely don't believe that. Or maybe you are, deep down? Do you force yourself to make tough decisions when you'd normally hesitate? You're more of a natural leader in my eyes. Whatever you do in the background to keep that going, it sure does work for you._

_With the rest of your chart, I can't say either way if it's true or not. Are you secretly emotional, Shepard? Do you need someone in your life who balances you out? Would you rather keep your distance from others if it means you won't get hurt? I guess that last one is true… Maybe not so much these days. And maybe not with me. Not anymore. I'm really happy that we get to talk like this every day._

_I'm an Aries. Fire sign. April 14. I'm apparently your opposite Zodiac sign, too. I spent a long time reading about our compatibility together… Instant attraction, bringing out the best (or worst) in each other, learning new perspectives, amazing sexual chemistry. Everything I've found says we're pretty much soulmates. That's a strong word, I know… It's making me rethink how much I care about this stuff._

_Why don't you read some, too? It could be fun._

_-Ashley_

I had done my reading on it back then, seeing that it was kind of fun to compare and contrast.

So much of spending this time with Ashley _was_ fun. She excited me a lot. She made me smile in her curiosities, in the way she said whatever was on her mind at any given moment. Even when she managed to sound like a complete airhead sometimes, I could still laugh about it, or enjoy how different she was from me. I saw that I wasn't so hung-up over our differences, finding beauty in them instead.

And when we did argue about something—usually her disbelief that Liara and I hadn't _done_ anything else—I couldn't stay angry at her. Ashley chose to do as I said, after all: she didn't hold back with me. She didn't hold her tongue. She held her ground instead, knowing that I respected her more for being honest with me, no matter what. So she respected my respect, reassured by it, giving me her real self.

But honestly, I had wondered if things between us might have fizzled out at some point. Especially by now. I questioned if I was exciting enough _for her_ —if Ashley would get bored of how much I kept guarding myself, kept holding back. Or if she would lose interest in me, simply because of how quiet and…shy I sometimes was, almost stuck in my head at times. So this three-month, or four-month marker—sort of—helped me to see that my wonderings, and my questioning weren't based in reality.

Ashley was still here.

She was still into me, and she wanted me more than she did yesterday, every day.

And I was still into her, finding that this feeling in my lower chest was such a constant, pervading flame.

All because Ashley trusted me enough to know that I wasn't going anywhere.

She gave me drama, she challenged me to be sensitive with her, and she made me feel an entire spectrum of fire for her—but I wasn't sick of her at all, and I didn't want her to stop.

I didn't want her to compromise who she was, just to placate me.

On the other hand, there was Liara, who had every reason now to compromise herself, to placate me.

This started a couple of days after Noveria, when she had emailed me with a senseless assumption:

_From: Liara – Concern._

_Shepard,_

_Did you ask her to send me this?_

_If so, you shouldn't have bothered._

_-Liara_

.

_From: Williams, Gunnery Chief – FW: Sorry._

_Liara,_

_I don't expect you to respond to this._

_I only wanted to say—I'm sorry about your Mom dying._

_I could tell she meant a lot to you. I can't ever know why the two of you stopped talking over the years. Not the details, anyway. Sounded like it was a big deal. Glad you got some closure with her._

_I hope you're not mad at Shepard for doing what she had to do. She took the shot, just like she always does. She saved your life._

_Despite everything, I would've done the same for you._

_-Ashley_

This petty shit from Liara had burned me up at the time.

I couldn't even bother to fucking respond to her.

Seriously, Ashley had set her pride aside to send Liara a sincere message. She chose to be the better person here, and to do the decent thing. Still, Liara was so damn cynical and mistrusting that she couldn't accept the gesture for what it was. This wasn't even about her having the _right_ to be irrational while she mourned Benezia's death. It was just plain mean.

I hadn't responded to her damned email— _at all._

I had chosen not to say anything to her in-person, either, avoiding her on the ship.

Liara had picked up on how pissed off I was.

She had waited a few days before sending me this change, this revelation:

_From: Liara – Re: Concern._

_Shepard,_

_I must apologize for my last message._

_I understand that you are angry with me. I allowed my negative emotions to get the better of me, and now you think less of me as a result. Ashley tried to do the right thing in sending her condolences. I shouldn't have assumed that you asked her to take pity on me. Thinking on it now, it was the natural thing for her to do. It is clear that family is important to her._

_Perhaps I was bitter. During our walk through the blizzard, I could no longer feel you. In fact, I still can't. It is as though our bond has shifted, changed. It is there, but far less intimate than it was before. The timing is obvious… This change began as soon as you and Ashley finally began speaking to one another._

_I can't help but feel that this is for the best, at least for now._

_Given my state of mind these days, maybe we ought to take a step back. Did we not rush into things together? Did we not give into our passions too soon? I believe we did, and I know that you feel the same. In fact, this is all that I know of how you feel. The rest, as I said, is blocked off. I don't wish to subject you to the pain that this brings me. Otherwise, we will have more repeats of my last email to you._

_Are you in agreement, or do you wish to discuss this first?_

_-Liara_

.

_To: Liara – Re: Concern._

_Liara,_

_Yeah, that whole thing with Ashley's message did piss me off. You didn't have to send it to me. That was between you and her. For the record, I didn't ask her to send it, and I don't want her taking pity on you. Whatever the two of you talk about is your business. Please, leave me out of it._

_You're right about the rest, though._

_We should cool off._

_Now's not the best time to risk any arguments between us. Not while you're going through all of this. I don't want to hurt you. I don't want you to be in pain, either. I have to accept that I can't change this. It is what it is._

_I still care about you, Liara._

_If you need me to be there for you, or if you'd rather I stay away, it's your call._

_If you choose not to respond to this, then I'll know where you stand._

_-Shepard_

Once it became clear that Liara wasn't going to respond, I had such a mixed reaction.

I wasn't relieved.

I wasn't happy.

I wasn't angry.

I wasn't frustrated.

Somewhere in between, perfectly balanced, perfectly mixed. Ambivalent, for now. I couldn't know why.

And I couldn't help feeling that I had dodged a bullet somehow—that this was a blessing in disguise.

Sipping more of this wine, I swallowed back this sudden stinging in my throat. That indigo blue blanket was here on the couch with me, too—over there, in the corner, where Liara had sat with me for a time. The only time she had been in my room. But probably not the last time. I found some comfort in knowing that she would likely be back here with me at some point. In what capacity, I didn't know.

I was positive that Liara knew we weren't exactly _done_ , either.

Taking a step back, cooling off—feelings interrupted, and maybe shifted: I found that I was perfectly fine with being in this space with her. I knew that Liara would always feel something powerful for me, regardless of whether or not I chose to act on my own feelings for her. I had my peace with her like this. I had forgiven her for the drama from before, even knowing that she was in so much pain without me.

With that pain, Liara _really_ seemed to be biding her time for something…

Whatever this something was, she had managed to find her own peace that way, pressing onward.

And we had our connection: I felt her protecting the very base of my mind, supportive as my foundation.

Somehow, I understood that she would always be here, no matter what happened between us.

Still, I had revoked Liara's access to my private cabin.

I couldn't let myself think of giving Ashley the same access, no matter how much I wanted her here.

I had a much stronger feeling about Ashley in the long-run: that our own foundation was _strong_ , powerful. But because of how much Liara had opened me up, these memories of her were way too fresh.

Needing to set these emotions of mine aside, I skimmed through my emails from Ashley, choosing to read one at random:

_From: Ashley – Re: Getting to know you._

_Shepard,_

_What made you think of that? I just said whatever came to mind… I can explain it if you want me to._

_The whole "griffons never die" thing comes from my family. It's an old Williams saying, going back centuries. We say it to the marines we admire most. One of my ancestors picked it up from a super retro video game. Ended up carrying through the generations. It's part of our blood now._

_The thing is, I can't remember the title of that game. Wings of the Goddess, or something?_

_I know you like video games. I'll have to ask one of my uncles if he can find out the name for you._

_When I saw that you were okay after the Thorian, I thought of my family's saying. I would hear them say it to each other all the time. Never really stuck until my Dad used it with me, right after I enlisted. It was around the time he stopped calling me his baby girl. Totally used to get on my nerves whenever he would call me that… Now that he's gone, I miss it. I miss him. He was my rock while he was still alive._

_You're my rock now._

_You're legendary, like a griffon, and you never die._

_You always get the job done. You'll never die._

_-Ashley_

Smiling over the memory, I put my headphones on, listening to the real source of her family's saying.

One of Ashley's ancestors must've enjoyed this _super retro_ video game, including the music. I loved the game, too—it was one of my favorites of all-time. I still played it every now and then. Somehow, the servers were still alive, carried over to the extranet from the original code from the early twenty-first century. I had a few maxed out characters, though, and there was nothing more to do. Since the developers were all dead by now, they obviously weren't able to update the game with more content…

 _Griffons Never Die_ was the title of a song in one of the game's expansion packs, _Wings of the Goddess._ It was from one of the original starter cities, reimagined in the past. Kings and queens, knights and nobility, medieval castles and battlements, duty and honor, and the color red—I could definitely see how this place, and this song had meant a lot to someone in the Williams family, military-minded as they were.

One day, I'd have to show Ashley this place in-game through some virtual reality play. I wanted to completely immerse her in the place and in the music that her ancestors were so fond of. Playing with a simple screen and a keyboard or controller just wouldn't cut it. Not for something like this.

After listening to the song a few more times, I took off my headphones.

Too curious for my own good, I went back to my email inbox, staring at this other chain of several successive messages from Ashley, again.

Aside from the _getting to know you_ emails, she also sent me these…

The subject: _Hard and fast._

I had read every single one of them…but Ashley had specified that I shouldn't respond to these. Not until I was ready. She only saw that I had 'read' each of them, and she was content with this. For now.

She had attached certain files to some of these emails to me.

Pictures.

Vid messages.

I was a visual person. I had a feeling she was well-aware of this about me.

So far, I had resisted the urge to look at these, to watch these. I knew what they were…and I knew, once I started indulging in them, I would want to _immediately_ take the brakes off of this thing we had going.

I risked re-reading her latest of these emails to me anyway:

_From: Ashley – Re: Hard and fast._

_Shepard,_

_Do you remember why I'm using this subject line? Aside from the double-meaning I want from you…_

_In our dream, you told me I should chase after you. And I said I would._

_Hard and fast._

_I know—I can't exactly do that right now. Not in the way I imagined at the time. I honestly want that physicality. I want to run after you, chase you down, and make you pin me down on the ground… Sending you these instead…it helps me get some of this energy out. If I keep it inside any longer, I'll explode. Plus, it's way harder to control myself around you these days. I'm trying to learn from how controlled you are. I'm trying to do my best. When I feel myself about to give in, I turn to this instead._

_I love that you're reading this. I love that you won't respond…for now. It makes me wonder if you're really shy, or if I have that much of an effect on you. There's no doubt in my mind that you want me, Shepard. You keep holding back anyway. I know why you do it. I respect your reasons; I always will._

_Thinking about you like this, I finally figured out why I was so confused all those years._

_I can't get emotionally attached to men. I'm only physically attracted to them. Like I told you, the ones I've slept with were…not so great in bed. On the other hand, I have no problems getting emotionally attached to women. And I can really want a woman to fuck me… But the ones I've been with, they never did it right. Not that anyone's actually fucked me—you know… You get what I'm saying._

_I wasn't sure if I was actually bi. I couldn't put two and two together. I couldn't realize that the people I had sex with before were just bad. My sexuality had nothing to do with it. I guess since it's easier for me to feel closer to women, I stressed myself out, wondering why my experiences with them were so terrible._

_Then you came along._

_With everyone else, I'd keep my pride. If they wanted me, then they had to come prove it. I wasn't going to throw myself at anyone. I wouldn't be head-over-heels. I refused to make things easy for them._

_That was simple for me, because I really wanted you, not them._

_Now you're here._

_Now…every time I see you, no matter where we are, and no matter who's around, I get the same urge._

_I want to get down on my knees in front of you, Shepard. I want to get your dick out and suck on it, choke on it. I want you to hold my head and guide me while I do it. I want to feel your nails digging into my scalp, showing me how much you love my tongue on you, my lips around you. And even though it's only a strap-on, so what? I bet anything you'll taste better in my mouth than the ones I wasted my time with._

_Even better, I want your mouth in between my legs. Whenever you kiss me, I feel how strong your tongue is, how thick your lips are. It gets to me every time—I imagine you on your knees instead, devouring me. I know you want to please me. I know you want to make me scream your name. You're so fucking sexy._

_The best part is, we haven't even done anything yet, and you already make me feel like I'm good enough._

_Let me show you just how much._

_But I learned my lesson with you. I'm not giving up the goods that easily…_

_If you want all of it, you'd better come after me this time._

_-Ash_

Light-headed and throbbing like hell, I almost slipped up and opened one of the attachments.

A notification sounded from my terminal at my desk, snapping me out of this daze I was in.

Setting my empty wine glass on the table, I went over to my desk. I had completely forgotten: I'd decided to make a copy of something for Tali, for her Pilgrimage. Not that long ago, we had hit several geth outposts across different planets. Geth that had separated from Saren's operations, while also staying far outside the Perseus Veil where they should have been. We found some encrypted data on the geth's operations, but it probably would have taken years to crack what was on here.

Tali hadn't asked me, but I chose to make a copy of this for her. The process had finally finished. I could give her this, and then hand the original over to the Alliance once I had time.

Hopefully this would be a good enough gift for Tali to bring back to the Flotilla.

Before heading out, I brushed my teeth and freshened up, mostly to get this smell of wine out of my breath. I was already a little more relaxed than usual. I didn't need anyone knowing for sure that I had been drinking up here. Not that it really mattered. I had… _a feeling_ about this, about alcohol in general.

After brushing my hair out one last time, I took the copy of the geth data and headed to the elevator.

Going all the way down to the storage area, I leaned against the back wall, arms folded.

As soon as these doors opened, I knew that Ashley would look over at me.

She wouldn't expect me to go and talk to her. She would want me to, though. And I would want to go over to her, to see how she was. But, again, I had such a weird feeling about this. Like, if I did it, then it would change things, somehow. This was all really vague and I didn't understand any of it.

Then again, I was relaxed enough to not care that much.

Why not just go with the flow for once?

Once the elevator opened to the dark blue of the vehicle bay—with Wrex on the left side examining our armor, and Garrus on the right side calibrating the Mako's guns—I stared back at the inevitable.

In her usual place at the armory, Ashley looked at me with her filthy mind, _looking_ damn fine. From the single look I gave back to her, she nearly dropped the gun in her hands that she had been cleaning. Interestingly enough, it was my Spectre-grade sniper rifle. And she almost dropped it to the ground.

I had paid _a lot_ of credits for that gun at the C-Sec Academy on the Citadel.

I changed my look—heated, warning—before rounding the corner to head down to Engineering.

But I did let myself smile once I heard Wrex grilling Ashley on what all the ruckus was about.

Through the door to Engineering, I found the bright blue-violet pulsing of the _Normandy's_ drive core in the center of the room. This mesmerizing view comforted me. As chill as I was at the moment, this sound, this atmosphere could have lulled me to sleep if I wasn't careful.

Thankfully, Tali didn't notice—she had her back to me, working at the panel on the leftmost side of the room, right by that pulsing. But I wasn't sure how this conversation would turn out. This was the first time I had ever spoken to her down here. Aside from speaking in-person during missions, we had only ever communicated by email here on the ship. Or I would sometimes find her in the mess hall with Ashley or someone else, and we would speak in passing. Never a one-on-one conversation, alone.

There was only one way to find out how this would go.

I gave a nod to Engineer Adams, who saluted me with a smile, before heading over to Tali nearby.

She wasn't quite working on the drive core itself.

Instead, Tali typed away on what looked like her private terminal.

She wrote into a text box on an extranet page—and she had written quite a lot already…

Something about how frustrated she was.

Frustrated…that she couldn't take her suit off, or even her helmet, without risking an infection. And that if _I_ could have seen her face from behind her helmet, maybe things could have been different between us… She noted that she was not vain, but she accepted that I appreciated beautiful women. She knew that she was one, too, and she expressed more frustration that she couldn't show me just how much.

According to her, if I could have seen her face and her body, then maybe I would want her, too.

Tali felt trapped in her suit. Like it was a cage, or a prison, making people judge her or dismiss her.

She mentioned that Liara _and Ashley_ were beautiful, so of course I was attracted to them, and not her…

But then Tali retracted that, not wanting to think I was shallow, or that I only cared about looks.

Tali instead expressed her amazement for how I continued to impress her, day after day, mission after mission. Especially on Noveria, where she knew that something about me had changed that day, even if she couldn't put her finger on exactly what. She did wonder a lot about how it was I'd caught that cold…

And Tali venerated me—how dashing she thought I was, how skilled she saw me as, how strict I was, how sexy she felt I was, and how much she loved my preparedness and my intelligence. Tali hated that she couldn't express herself to me, and that she couldn't possibly compete against her two best friends for my affections. She felt inadequate compared to them, like she had nothing to offer me.

Tali could never let me see her face, or let me feel her skin; she could never let me kiss her, or let me have sex with her—otherwise she could have gotten sick, or possibly died, jeopardizing the mission.

Because of how she was raised—as a quarian, as her father's daughter—she had learned to put others first. Being selfish may have endangered the Migrant Fleet. So she had convinced herself that Liara should have had me before, and now Ashley these days. And she believed that this was best, as she felt that I wouldn't have given her the time of day regardless. She figured I didn't care about her like that.

On some nights, Tali would purposely listen in on Ashley getting off to me, just to make herself cry.

All so she could exhaust herself, crying herself to sleep. Because she wasn't able to rest otherwise, wanting me as much as she did, all while dealing with these frustrations on a daily basis. Because, once the next mission began, she had no room to let her personal feelings get in the way. She knew that I needed her to be on-point, at her very best, and she didn't want to…disappoint me. Not in the slightest.

This in particular stood out to me in a curious way: _'I'm making her sound like my father, aren't I…?'_

This as well, even more so: _'Liara made it clear to everyone in the chat that she and Shepard aren't an item. They're still attracted to each other, and they still appear to have that special bond of theirs, but she needs to keep her distance for her own reasons. She's upset over it, yet she's also choosing to press on. I'm not sure why she chose to give up while she was ahead. Whatever those private reasons of hers are, they must be serious. She won't tell me at all._

' _And Ashley must think I'm stupid. She claims that she has no chance whatsoever. I know that she's chasing after Shepard as I write this. The raw attraction between those two…it's palpable. Shepard can certainly control her actions; she can't stop that impossible heat from burning up each time she and Ashley are around one another. It's even stronger than it was with her and Liara, how there would be sparks everywhere. She and Ashley want each other very, very badly. I wish they'd get a room already…'_

Tali was seriously…blogging about me, like this.

I'd had no idea her crush on me went this deep. And I'd had no idea she so was hurt over this, either…

Regardless of the pain that Tali was in, I was struck by how— _beautiful_ her feelings were for me.

Standing right behind her, I realized why she hadn't heard my approach. My footsteps were already quiet enough, on top of the drive core's pulsing causing this much noise.

If I waited any longer, she would know that I had read these tender feelings of hers—even by accident.

I sighed, hoping this wouldn't scare her.

I tapped her shoulder. "Tali—"

Tali whipped around to face me, the vague outline of her bright eyes growing wide behind her helmet.

"Shepard!" she squeaked, slamming her terminal shut. "Shepard, what are you doing here?! You frightened me! _Keelah_ , you _really_ need to invest in some heavier boots! Or—or _something!"_

Dry in my sarcasm, I offered, "I could try wearing a bell around my neck if that would help."

Tali huffed at me, "This isn't funny!"

"Sorry," I said, finding it cute—even sexy—how pissed off she was. "I have something to give you. Figured I'd bring it to you in person. If you don't want it, I can just go instead. No hard feelings."

Softening a bit, she asked, "You mean…you have a gift for me?"

"Yes."

"Oh… Well, that's—sweet of you… What is it?"

I handed her the copy of that data, explaining, "These are encrypted files on what the geth are doing outside the Perseus Veil. We found this when we hit their outposts the other day. I'm handing the original files over to the Alliance. So I made this copy for you to have. Might take a while to get this unencrypted. But I figured you could bring it back to your people. You know, for your Pilgrimage."

Gently, Tali took the gift in her hands, staring down at it for a long while.

She whispered to me, just over the drive core's pulsing, "Shepard…this is perfect. I can certainly use this to complete my Pilgrimage once we stop Saren. I… I almost don't know what to say, except— _thank you."_

"Glad I could help, Tali," I told her.

The way her breathing had changed—it gave her away.

Shy, and frightened, almost, Tali couldn't raise her head to meet my eyes again.

Knowing better, I asked, "You okay?"

"Err, yes, I'm…" Tali exhaled, trembling. "…I'm—I'm all right. I am."

"You know I don't believe that," I lectured.

"I know you don't… But, I'm telling you anyway—I'm fine, Shepard…"

One more chance: "You're sure?"

Tali sighed, admitting, "No, I'm not… You caught me off-guard. Your gift is incredibly thoughtful. You've pushed me into new territory with this. And _this,_ it's… It is… This is…very difficult to discuss, and…"

She glanced over at Engineer Adams not too far away.

He wasn't close enough to overhear, and he had his back facing us, but Tali worried anyway.

"We can go someplace else," I offered. "If you need to speak with me in private, that is."

Tali placed her hands over the sides of her helmet, as if blushing under there.

These soft stutters of her attractive voice, broken by her breaths so emotional: "Shepard…I want to tell you. I don't… I don't feel that I'm allowed to. I'm not—I'm not allowed…to be _honest_ with you. Not without compromising other things… As much as I would like to… _we shouldn't_ speak in private."

"I get what you're trying to say, Tali."

"What…? But how could you know? No, that's not right… You _don't know._ You shouldn't lie to me…"

I leaned closer to her, speaking in a low voice, "I wish _you_ wouldn't lie to me. This is where we're at anyway. Then again, maybe it's for the best. If you're not ready to be honest, then I won't force you to get this off your chest. That's your choice to make, not mine."

Tali only stood there, letting out these shallow breaths; quavering underneath my height above her.

Out of _anyone_ , I knew that I had to keep this mask on with her.

How fragile she was, deep down, and how inexperienced she was beyond her tech expertise:

I could've broken her mind in half like a twig, like a flower stem, without even trying.

"The offer's open, Tali," I said, stepping back—knowing she might not have taken it. "And the offer will _always_ be open. Whenever you wanna have a real talk with me, you're free to ask for my time, in private. Other than that, I want you to stop treating me like I'm stupid. Do whatever you want around me—just don't make the rookie mistake of assuming I don't notice what goes on under my watch."

More emotional, yet still controlled, Tali breathed much harder.

Whether she was mad at me, or turned on—or both—I couldn't know.

Staying firm with her, I needed confirmation: "Tali, do you understand me?"

Oh, she was livid with me now.

I _felt_ how much she wanted to call me a bitch, right to my face…or a _bosh'tet._

"Yes, _Captain,"_ scorned Tali. "I understand."

I was about to leave things at that, not wanting this to go on for too long.

But then Tali pressed her hand to my chest—pushing me back, and back, and back, out the Engineering exit and back out to the hall blocked by the elevator.

This elevator was the only thing keeping Garrus, Wrex, and Ashley from witnessing this right now.

Still keeping her voice to a near-whisper, Tali put her foot down:

"Shepard, I respect you as my leader," she warned. "And I feared you would find out that I don't _just_ have an innocent crush on you. But I won't allow you to talk down to me like this… Out of anyone on this ship, I have the least amount of freedom to be _honest_ with you! Why can't you see that?!"

Setting aside my anger with _her_ anger, I asked, "What are you talking about?"

"I'm juggling two close friendships with the other women who want you! You and Liara may not be directly involved anymore, but Ashley is a different story! If she were to find out about my real feelings, it would cause too many issues for us. I don't want to lose her again! Especially not over this, when I have no chance with you! _Keelah_ , you're still so _insensitive_ at the wrong times…"

"Seriously? Ashley and I aren't—"

"—no, no, no," interrupted Tali. "Don't bother with that, Shepard. Don't go there with me. It doesn't _matter_ if the two of you aren't in a relationship. I see how you feel about her; I see how she feels about you. We all do! You can control yourself all you want. That won't stop us from spotting the insane amount of chemistry between the two of you. You're going to burn the _Normandy_ down at this rate!"

So much for the damned regulations keeping me shackled. And if everyone already _knew_ , then…

Tali continued, "You _could have_ fooled us with Liara, you know. Sure, the attraction was there. It still is. But then you had to go and bed her for everyone to hear, giving yourself away. With that said, I spend a lot of my time observing you. You can't tell me that Ashley isn't special to you. You want her like no other. Even now, I can feel it, radiating off from you…like it does all the time, everywhere. So why should I have a _real talk_ with you if you're not able to give me anything in return?"

Holding up this figurative shield of my guard:

This was all I could do.

Nothing more.

I had already made my decision about this, about Ashley, and about staying on this path with her.

"That's what I thought," concluded Tali. _"Now_ do you understand why I tried to lie to you? To get you to drop this? I'm completely vulnerable to you… This is going to make things worse for me. I hope you're happy. And in case you forgot, Shepard, this is also about my health… You're _literally_ toxic to me."

Unsticking my voice from my throat, I told her, "Tali, I'm sorry… I wish I could make this up to you."

"I know. Better late than never, I suppose… It's what made me fall for you this hard in the first place."

Tali embraced me, angling her helmet up just enough to rest her head over my shoulder.

I let myself hold her back.

This smooth material of her enviro-suit, and how small she was in my arms—she felt…warm, and inviting to me. But even with her attitude that fired itself right back at me in hot, short bursts, I still knew better. I knew, as smooth, and as small, and as warm, and as inviting as she was, Tali was… _vulnerable_ , as she said. She was a firebrand in her own ways, but she was susceptible to me. I could've hurt her, _badly._

Ashley was tough enough—even hard-headed enough—for me to not worry about this with her.

Tali was way too precious for someone like me.

I moved back, maybe premature, given how relaxed Tali had felt against me.

Waking up from her bliss, she asked in worry, "What is it?"

"Nothing," I tried. "You gave me a lot to think about, that's all. Maybe I underestimated you."

"Maybe you did," agreed Tali. "And maybe I should be more patient with you." Having my arms around her had changed something in her, once again: "And maybe…I'll take you up on your offer to have that talk. One day."

"Then we'll do that. Whenever you're ready. I care about you. I don't want to compromise that. I hate admitting this, but you're right about Ashley…how I feel about her. If she were anyone else, I wouldn't think twice about exploring this with you. She _is_ really special to me. And I'm not in a relationship with her _now_ …"

Tali responded with levity, "Mmm, I know," as if she even loved how much I…felt about her own best friend. "I'm not asking for anything more. I couldn't. I'm just…extremely glad to see that you _could_ still like me, even with my suit in the way. And I do want your friendship. No matter what."

"Then let's be friends," I accepted. "I'll keep you in my thoughts. Either way, your secret's safe with me."

"Thank you, Shepard," replied Tali, relieved. "I feel much better now. I think…this should help me in the long-run. I can stop hating this situation and find my peace with it instead." She sighed with the start of that peace. "I should get back to it, then. I need to…finish up some work before we arrive to Liara's homeworld. I'm still trying to unencrypt those notes we found from her mother. I'll see you later?"

"Yeah, I'll see you."

Tali let out a soft laugh, and returned to Engineering through the door.

I took a moment to reflect on our conversation: on how much I had admitted, how much I had realized.

I accepted that I wanted to keep Tali safe and cared for, even as a friend.

And she was way more complex than I had given her credit for…

With that complexity, I had actually looked at temptation and turned away, focused on one woman.

Heading back out to the vehicle bay, I found my own peace in how all was well over here—how no one had _overheard_. Garrus continued working on the Mako. Wrex set Kaidan's armor back in his locker. From this angle, Ashley mostly had her back to me, working diligently to clean her own rifle this time.

Clinging to my professionalism for dear life, I decided to go over to Ashley at her station.

To avoid any unnecessary surprises, I angled my approach so that I was in her periphery.

Though I noticed something different about her hair.

Ashley had it tied up behind as usual, but it seemed like her hair was shorter. Did she get a haircut?

Spotting me out of the corner of her eye, Ashley set her rifle down, gently, before turning toward me.

This was the first time I had ever come to speak to her down here, too.

The only times I had been down here for _chatting_ was when Wrex had emailed me, requesting that I speak to him about a personal matter. He had given me the details about his family armor that some turian had stolen away. We'd then retrieved his armor, and I came back down here again to talk to him about it some more, learning about how his father Jarrod had betrayed him back on Tuchanka.

And then there was Garrus, who had told me about a legit maniac, Dr. Saleon, who went around pawning off organs from innocent victims. He had tracked down the doctor's location, and then we had gone to find him, making short work of that freak and putting an end to his operations. And I remembered how even though Garrus was grateful for my help, he had held back in what he really wanted to say to me. He had kept our talks professional, to-the-point, for the sake of appeasing me.

I knew that Garrus wanted to be my friend. He needed to find the courage to tell me that on his own.

During each of those occasions, I had decided not to speak to Ashley, instead letting her work.

Surely that explained this muted look of bewilderment on her face as I approached her now, today.

"Commander," greeted Ashley, trying to stay neutral. "…what can I do for you?"

Experimenting with this new concept, I asked her, "What's your opinion on the last mission?"

Finding her nerve again, Ashley scowled in remembrance. "My _opinion_ is that it was all a huge mess, Sir," she replied. "Rear Admiral Kahoku didn't deserve what happened to him! And before that, those researchers in the excavation site getting turned into husks? That fake Alliance distress signal leading the admiral's men straight into a thresher maw's nest? Cerberus is a straight-up terrorist group!"

"I agree," I remarked. "It was pretty bad all around. But we couldn't get to the admiral in time. We have to accept that and move on."

"You make it sound so easy…"

Low-hanging fruit for an inappropriate joke, there.

She knew it, too—her knees were about to buck, like she wanted to get down in front of me.

Ashley caught herself, catching her breath thickly against this sight of me.

I was still relaxed enough to be amused by this, though not quite letting myself smile at her.

Needing to act oblivious, Ashley continued, "…I guess you did the right thing, handing over that data to the Shadow Broker… If that's the deal Admiral Kahoku made for more info on Cerberus, then we've repaid his debts. I hope he's resting in peace somewhere up there now."

"More than likely," I said. "He was a good man, dedicated to his service."

Ashley could no longer keep up this chain of the conversation, avoiding my eyes now.

She all but tied her hands behind her back, tangling, taut.

Experimenting some more, I went on, "Do you have a few minutes to talk, one-on-one?"

This shuddering breath she let out, still unable to look at me—

She inhaled, once, stronger—smelling my usual scent, and holding herself back.

Overwhelmed by me, Ashley still whispered, "You know I always have time for you, Skipper…"

"Always?" I wondered.

" _Always,"_ she repeated, just as soft. "Whatever you need me for, Shepard, I'll… I'll give it up to you."

Uncharacteristic with everyone else, anyone else—Ashley's regard of me made it nearly impossible for my professionalism to keep carrying this talk with her. And she did look at me, now, her wide eyes so all-encompassing in the breadth of her feelings. And I almost hated myself, now, for taking this long to appreciate how sweet she was in this way, lowering that guard of hers to be completely open with me.

This sensation that had heated my stomach first, with her, had misted up my chest, almost to my heart.

Almost…

Still working on someone's armor, Wrex's playful shouting wasn't enough to break this between us—"Hey, Garrus! That another fire you feel coming on? Might make its way over here soon!"

Tinkering with the Mako, Garrus called back over his shoulder, "You're telling me! The fire alarm's sure to go off at any minute now! We need some emergency sprinklers on, stat!"

"I don't know about _sprinklers!_ Maybe a fire hose! Better yet, we gotta drop _this entire place_ in water!"

Scoffing in annoyance, Ashley questioned, " _Again?_ What are they even talking about?"

This _joke_ of theirs had gone on for way longer than it should have, if it were only that—a joke.

Now that I thought about it, my temperature implants may have been malfunctioning…causing me—or even Ashley, too—to give off this literal manifestation of our internal body heat rising whenever we were around each other.

I _really_ didn't want to ask Dr. Chakwas about this…

"Don't worry about it," I offered, not wanting to explain.

Ashley frowned, complaining, "Kinda hard not to. They're so obnoxious. Every time you and I are in a room together, they make these same stupid jokes! Why won't they shut up already?"

Joker's message sounded over the comm, _"Pulling into Armali on Thessia in the next ten minutes. It's a bright and sunny day out. Make sure you've packed all your best stuff for some extended shore leave!"_

"Shit, ten minutes?!" fretted Ashley, scrambling to turn back around. "Um, I-I really need to finish this, Skipper! I told myself I would—you know, before we arrived." She then faced me, again, not wanting to show any disrespect. "I guess…we'll all be staying at Liara's Mom's house while we're here. Might be weird—I hope she's not haunting the place. But, if you want, hopefully…we can talk again soon."

Nodding in acceptance, I smiled a little. "Dismissed, Chief."

Finding enough neutrality: "Sir."

Joker had more to say, _"Hey Commander, you've got a transmission incoming from the Citadel. Top-priority clearance. I think it's from the Council. Want me to patch it through to the comm room?"_

Of course…

"Patch it through, Joker," I allowed.

" _Aye, aye, Ma'am!"_

Leaving past Wrex, who grinned at me, I chose to acknowledge him—"Wrex."

He grinned more, and chose to acknowledge me back—"Shepard."

"Behave yourself," I ordered, heading back to the elevator. "And maybe I'll see you around."

* * *

Shore leave delayed, I found myself back in the comm room instead, starting this call with the Council.

Whatever this was about, hopefully it was enough to push our mission forward. After all, it'd been months since our last solid lead on Saren's whereabouts. We had that information from Benezia about the Mu Relay, but there were dozens of systems through there. We needed something more specific.

Then again, maybe this delay was a good thing—for the others.

We had docked at a port not too far from Liara's childhood home—and Benezia's huge mansion—here in Armali, right beside a large park. I'd told my squad to go ahead and head over there without me. I had no idea how long this talk with the Council would take. And I didn't rule out the idea that someone else from the Alliance may have decided to call afterward, taking up even more of my time.

The team seemed to be in the middle of more _planning_ for my birthday tomorrow, so indiscreet.

Now I somehow had to pretend like I didn't notice.

I guessed it was nice that they cared this much, anyway…

The turian councilor, the asari councilor, and the salarian councilor's forms appeared as this familiar tint of vague orange, almost as if they were actually here with me.

" _Good day, Commander,"_ said the asari councilor. _"Thank you for accepting our call on such short notice. We understand that you are currently on shore leave on Thessia. We promise that this communication will be brief."_

"I'll believe it when I see it," I commented, unconvinced.

Moving past my impatience, the turian councilor explained, _"Commander, we believe we may have a new lead for you on Saren's next location. The only problem is, we're not yet able to verify if this information is correct or not. We will need some time before we can make sure if this is legitimate."_

Curious now, I asked, "What kind of information _might_ this be?"

The salarian councilor informed me, _"We're awaiting information from one of our infiltration regiments out in the Traverse. Salarian Special Tasks Group. This particular unit is gathering intelligence on Saren's activities on the planet Virmire. However, we're still unable to validate the type of signal they are attempting to send us."_

" _This could be significant,"_ expressed the asari councilor. _"If this unit has located a solid lead on Saren, then we will want to send you to investigate. Unfortunately, we cannot ascertain that they need assistance. Thus we will need some time first."_

" _Yes, the message we received was little more than static,"_ clarified the salarian councilor. _"We suspect that this unit is unable to set up proper interstellar communications. Still, we will contact you as soon as we learn more."_

The turian councilor stipulated, _"And by that, once we have more information for you, we will expect you to drop everything and leave to Virmire right away. Not a moment later."_

Arms folded, I told him, "Councilor, you're asking a lot here. What do you expect me to do? Sit around and twirl my thumbs until you call me back?"

" _Need I remind you, Commander—this is about Saren. This is classified information, at the highest levels of galactic government. We_ will _expect you to free up your schedule over the next week or so. Once we can confirm that our unit on Virmire needs you, you_ will _be going. No questions asked. And yes, you should, in fact, sit around and twirl those thumbs of yours."_

"What's with the attitude? I've done everything you asked so far! Now you're making these ridiculous demands, and you expect me to just put up with it?"

" _Shepard, don't take this personally,"_ sneered the turian councilor. _"If it were any other Spectre on Saren's trail, we would obviously ask them to look into this instead. We are giving you special treatment. We expect great things from you. You should see this as an opportunity, not a punishment."_

I waved him off, dismissing, "I don't have time for your patronizing bullshit, Councilor."

" _Commander, I don't appreciate that kind of language—"_

I disconnected the call.

The Councilors' forms disappeared from in front of me, leaving me to silence and peace again.

Joker sniggered over the intercom. _"Communications cut, Commander…"_

"Joker, what are you still doing here?" I asked. "I thought you left with the others."

" _Nope, decided to stay for a bit,"_ he replied. _"Figured you might need me to be your operator. I guessed right, 'cause you have another call coming in! This one's from Alliance Command. Looks like a tactical briefing for you—last minute."_

Sighing, I told him, "Fine, I'll get the call… But I want you to head out. Let the team know that I'll probably be here for a while. I'll make my way to Liara's place whenever the hell I'm done with this."

" _Well, if you really want me to go already, I can…"_

"I do, Joker," I insisted. "Now beat it. Have a good time."

" _All right, if you say so! Try not to stay gone for too long. See ya, Commander."_

Once he was gone, I accepted my fate, and accepted this next call.

And of course, one call led to another, and then another person had to be included, and then yet another person needed to tell me every single detail of their report, and…

And I ended up not getting to leave the comm room until evening time.

After getting a bit to eat in the mess hall, alone, and then taking a shower, I finally left the ship.

During the short walk to Liara's place, I couldn't believe how stunning her homeworld was. Such a beautiful afterglow of the sun shone at all times of the day on Thessia, affected by all the element zero in the atmosphere. This pale red, glowing orange, and the long, wide glare of the sunlight edging off of the tall, off-white skyscrapers everywhere: I fell in love with this place, with how otherworldly it was compared to Earth, existing in this fantasy of an eternal sunset's dream.

Following this long bridge next to the decorative bodies of water spread out across Armali, I almost couldn't focus on the path. I even enjoyed the way the shallow water underneath here sparkled in the light. And following that light back up, my eyes inevitably reached the buildings around me, noticing:

They looked a lot like Prothean beacons.

Rounded at the base and narrowing upward to that rectangular shape, I saw the beacons there, too.

Once I made it to the large park secluded from the rest of those skyscrapers, I saw the large mansion in the near distance, right next to the green of the grass: Liara's childhood home, blooming as a blue and silver structure of mostly glass. There had to have been at least three or four floors in this place, and at least a dozen rooms, easily able to house plenty of guests from across asari high society. Though it definitely did look fitting for a home that had belonged to an asari matriarch—and now Liara herself.

My city apartment back on Earth was nice, but it couldn't compare to this. Not on this level, anyway.

I had made that conscious decision, though. Even with all the money I had from my other career, I hated spending too much on things and on space that I didn't need. Especially while I was deployed. Still, I sort of missed home now, and I wouldn't have minded going back there sometime soon.

At the front door, the security system recognized me, allowing me to enter.

As soon as I made it inside, I felt how homely this mansion was, despite all the _space_ around that I normally wouldn't have liked. The interior design and the furniture everywhere matched the exterior in a near-obsessive way, as if Benezia had felt the need to direct and control every fine detail. Luckily, it didn't seem like it would've been easy to get lost in here, since there were only two hallways here, one leading to the east wing where the bedrooms were, and another to the west wing where the kitchen and other living areas were.

Heading over to the living room nearby, I found Kaidan sitting at a round table in the corner, watching the TV screen in the center. He had a glass of whiskey in his hand, only sipping as he tried to keep up with the sports broadcast from Earth there on the screen. American football, it looked like.

I couldn't hear anyone else nearby. They must've been out, or someplace else in the house.

He had probably elected to stay here alone.

This far-off look in his eyes—he wasn't well.

Having monitored his mental health over these past few months, Kaidan had _looked_ okay. But now that I was able to see him like this, when he didn't think I was around, it was clear that he had put on his best smile for me, all to keep me from noticing his pain.

"Kaidan?" I said, walking over to him.

A bit startled, Kaidan almost shook his whiskey out of the glass. "Commander! You're…you're back already? Sorry, I… I didn't see you there."

"It's almost nighttime. I got held up on the ship. What are you doing here by yourself?"

Sighing, he gestured to the TV, and explained, "Wanted to catch up on the game…you know. Couldn't grab a beer and kick back. Liara has Thessian whiskey here. Not quite the same as the Peruvian brand I prefer… Then again, I guess it's not so bad. Wanna try some? Who knows, you might like it!"

And there he went again, trying to put on a front of good spirits.

"Don't play me, Kaidan," I warned, sitting down across from him. "What's wrong? What's going on?"

Hesitating, he stared down at his drink.

Now that I wouldn't buy his faking anymore, he didn't know what to do, how to react.

Then Kaidan finally told me, "Honestly, Commander, I didn't think you'd ask… Didn't think you'd find me here, either. I mean, when's the last time we had a non-work-related conversation? _Tried_ to have a conversation? Think it was after Eden Prime, months ago. You said you didn't want to be bothered with my thoughts, my observations on how Ash likes you. So I left you alone. That was it…"

"And that upsets you?"

" _Of course_ it upsets me, Ma'am… I'm your second-in-command. That's just how you see me. We're not friends, we're not pals. You ignore me on the ship whenever possible. You don't see me… You don't."

"Kaidan, are you still struggling with what happened on Feros?"

"Struggling," he echoed, hollow. "Struggling…you think I'm struggling. If that's the case, then…I guess I am. I guess I am—struggling, again. All over again, like I did years ago…"

I set aside how uncomfortable I was with this baggage of his.

I couldn't blame him for it.

From his file, I knew that Kaidan had dealt with a number of struggles and setbacks in his life. He put on a brave face for everyone else. But now, now that he had suffered this next setback with his mental health, I wasn't positive that he could simply bounce back and be okay again.

"I'm sorry for ignoring you on the ship," I expressed. "I didn't think you needed to speak with me."

"Well, you never asked…"

I really didn't like this.

Any of this.

Still, I was responsible for whatever happened to him. Right now, I had to be the best leader for him.

So I continued, "And if I had asked you to talk to me one-on-one, what would you have said?"

Kaidan drank, once, scrunching his face in bitterness, before replying, "Then I would've told you…how empty I feel, all the time. All the damn time. No heart, no soul. Just—an empty shell of a man, broken. Nothing special about me. Nothing unique about me, besides being a human biotic, a freak who used to be addicted to the wrong things. Nothing…remarkable about me… Nothing at all."

"This feeling of emptiness… When I don't speak to you on the ship, does that make things worse?"

Grabbing his head, he nodded.

"Yeah, it does," he groaned out, hoarse. "Do you hate me, Commander? Do you look at me and see _nothing?_ Is that why you don't give a damn about me? I disgust you with this, don't I?"

All over again, Anderson's letter came flooding back to me: his warnings that my team might have lost faith in me unless I worked to maintain their morale.

I'd assumed that I was fine, basically outsourcing that responsibility among the squad themselves.

Apparently not for Kaidan, not for him.

"You don't disgust me," I told him. "And I don't hate you. Why is this such a big deal for you?"

"I'm nothing like you, Ma'am," lamented Kaidan, more. "You're a legend. A hero. An icon. Compared to you, I might as well not exist!" He drank again, finishing the blue-gold of his whiskey. "You know, it's no wonder all the girls are crazy about you. They're losing their minds over you, Shepard… Someone's gonna lose it, and something terrible is gonna happen. And you know why? Because you're just…that…great. You're that amazing. You're incredible."

That was it.

He couldn't keep going like this.

"Kaidan, I appreciate the compliments," I attempted. "But right now, I'm concerned about you. Doesn't matter how much you've had to drink. The things you're saying, they're getting to the heart of who you are. Your struggles. Your own self-worth. You don't have to keep suffering alone."

"I _am_ sick of being alone," he agreed, his eyes misted by a painful fog. "There's something else you're saying, isn't there? What is it? Lay it on me."

"You need to see a counselor about this, _at minimum._ Soon. This is non-negotiable."

Kaidan lowered his head, accepting this quickly enough: "You're… You're right, Commander. I might need—I need…some professional help with this. It's getting more difficult by the day to keep…trying."

"Then I'll make arrangements for us to get you to the Citadel—"

"—Commander, wait!" he tried. "Not the Citadel. Not there. We were just there yesterday! If you take me back there now, the others might know. If they found out… If they got wind that I'm not well, it'd only make things worse for me. Can't we go someplace else instead? Somewhere secure?"

"That depends," I bargained. "Will you be able to hold out for our plans to stay here on Thessia for the next few days? The shore leave might do you some good."

"It would," agreed Kaidan. "I can hold out until then… I'll—try to be more social, while I'm here."

Checking my omni-tool for suggestions, there was really only one solution.

Going back home to America, for me:

"After we leave Thessia," I said, "I'll tell Joker to get us to Earth. We can go to the main Alliance Navy base in Coronado, down in San Diego. Make an appointment to speak with one of the counselors. Aside from Ashley, the rest of the team won't be able to get onto the base and possibly find you. No one will have to know. We'll stay there for as long as we can, at least until you find a way to move forward."

Kaidan managed to give me a genuine smile this time.

"Thanks, Commander," he expressed. "That's…pretty thoughtful of you. Sorry it took this much for me to reach out for help. I just—I didn't wanna let you down, you know? You're counting on me, and…"

I stood and went over to Kaidan, setting my hand over his broad shoulder. "I'm counting on you to get the help you need. Don't worry about the rest. Your health is more important. We can't lose you, Lieutenant. I can't lose you. So, for now, I want you to enjoy yourself while we're here. All right?"

Kaidan stood up with me, smiling brighter. "Yes, I understand."

"Good," I replied. "We should go find the others. Any idea where they are?"

Picking up his empty glass, Kaidan led me down the next hall. "They're just through here," he guided. "Over in the other, bigger living room, connected to the kitchen and the sliding glass doors. The park out there is really beautiful. And this place is huge…"

Before we could even make it to that living room, I heard everyone's loud voices from down the hall.

Arriving to this wide, high-ceilinged space, we found Wrex and Garrus on their feet next to the gigantic TV against the wall, even bigger than the one Kaidan had watched in the other room. Standoffish, Wrex shook his head, appearing to be in an argument with Tali sitting on the gray suede couch nearby.

Garrus had the remote in his hand, cycling through a bunch of movies.

Joker sat next to Tali, scoffing over the argument; chiming in every so often.

As Kaidan went to sit with them on the couch, I finally understood what they were arguing over.

"Wrex, this isn't fair!" complained Tali. "You _said_ that I get to pick the next film we're going to see! I gave you my suggestion. _Now_ you and Garrus decide to team up against me? This isn't a democracy! I waited in line, and this is what I want us to watch together!"

"Nuh-uh, Tali," scolded Wrex. "No one wants to watch your cheesy little chick flicks. _I_ don't wanna watch 'em. Feels like I'll turn into a little girl myself if you turn that thing on."

Tali raged at him, "Don't be ridiculous! Besides, what's wrong with turning into a little girl?!"

Wrex pretended to sniffle. "Maybe I'm allergic."

"Ohh, don't you get started on that…"

Joker sighed in exasperation. "Guys, come on!" he protested. "We've been arguing about this for like fifteen minutes! I'll watch Tali's damn chick flick if we have to. There, I said it! Rules are rules, right?"

"Wow, Joker," said Garrus. "Can't believe you actually _want_ to watch the romantic tragedy between a turian and a quarian that is _Fleet and Flotilla._ I thought you'd be— _allergic_ to that kind of thing."

"My popcorn's getting cold! I don't care what we watch, all right?! I just wanna stuff my face already!"

Kaidan excused himself to the kitchen to refill his glass, since this would be a long night of being _social._

Where was Ashley, anyway?

I was so put-off by this damned yelling, I didn't think to look in the kitchen—not even when I heard Kaidan sharing warm words with someone in there.

While everyone kept going back and forth, I was about to make my way out.

Intercepting me in the hall, by chance, I found Liara passing by.

We both stopped at the same time.

I stared down at her, and she stared right back up at me.

Catching herself first, Liara found enough of her voice to say, "Shepard, I'm…glad I found you. I wasn't sure if you were still on the ship. Joker told us that you would likely be there for a while."

Pushing down these lingering feelings for her, _still,_ I responded, "Yeah, it was one call after another. I couldn't get away. Sorry I'm late."

Liara smiled at me, warm with patience. "It's all right. You're here now. That's what matters."

I stopped myself from smiling back at her too much.

Now that this time had passed, it was as if my grievances with her had all but disappeared.

Yet I knew better than to dwell on that, to put too much stock into that.

"Liara," I prompted her. "You said you're glad you found me. Were you waiting for me to get here?"

Shy all of a sudden, Liara replied in a lower tone, so smooth, "I was, actually… I wanted to ask if you would come out with me tomorrow morning. Now that you are here with me on my homeworld, there are certain things—and places—I would like to show you. But I will understand if you'd rather decline…"

"Is this supposed to be…a date?"

"Yes."

Heart pounding like crazy, I asked, "A friendly date? Or a romantic one…?"

Liara smiled again, rather sad. "That depends on you, Shepard," she specified. "Whatever the mood ends up being, I wish to have a conversation with you. Away from the ship, from the others. I know that I have left far too much unsaid these days. More than anything, I want to correct this. Will you join me?"

She had picked this timing, this day—tomorrow—on purpose.

She had to know that it was my birthday.

Considering how thoughtful she was, I couldn't turn her down.

"That's fine, Liara," I accepted. "We can meet up at seven. Where will I find you?"

"Here, in this living room," decided Liara. "As you can see, the sliding glass doors lead out to the park. I spent much of my childhood out in that grass. I would like for us to walk around there first."

"Sounds good to me."

"Thank you, Shepard. I must be off now to take care of a few matters… I will see you in the morning."

I stepped aside and out of her way, letting Liara walk by me through the hallway.

Even though I was glad she didn't seem too broken up about our situation, it still made me wonder:

What was she biding her time for, and why was it special enough to keep her so _normal_ like this?

Needing a drink, I passed through the living room, headed for the adjacent kitchen.

Out of the corner of my eye, I spotted Garrus grinning as he held up the remote, way out of reach from Tali, who kept trying to jump up to reach the device, to snatch it out of his hand.

Kaidan walked by me on his way out the kitchen, in a much better mood from earlier. Cold beer in-hand this time, he nodded as we made eye contact, making his way back to the commotion over by the TV and couches. I returned his nod, deciding that I didn't want any beer. I couldn't stand the taste of it.

Maybe some Thessian wine, if Liara had any here—just to try some…

After that, I had no idea how I would spend the rest of the evening.

I figured I could sneak back to the ship, back to my room.

Maybe I could play my third-person shooter in peace—

"—shit, sorry!"

Stopping right under this tall archway of the bright, open kitchen, I had nearly bumped into Ashley here.

Stopping herself, Ashley clutched onto the blue bottle of wine cooler in her hand, to keep from dropping it, shattering the glass to the marble flooring.

She stopped there, stayed there, staring up at me in apology…

Here, in this lighting—with the brightness shining in from the kitchen's tall, tall windows—I felt as if I had been transported to some other time, a different place.

Ashley had definitely done something new with her hair.

Leaving it down for once, all the way down, I saw her differently.

She'd had it professionally cut and layered, letting it fall right down her shoulders, down to her chest.

The layering, the sleekness of the dark brown there—almost black in illusion: Ashley had shaped the left side as that layered, round sleekness, and tucked the right side behind her ear. Such a simple, imprecise thing to do, probably off-hand and without much thought behind it… And yet the way this new style fit her face, it brought out an unexpected softness in her, even as she relaxed her apology to her doe-eyed misunderstanding, oblivious to why I stared at her so.

Doe-eyed, as only Ashley could get away with in my heart: shaped by the kindness of her eyes, shaped even more by the natural thickness, and darkness of her lashes, so enticing. Fanning out, the fine follicles of her untouched brows outlined her face in a masterclass of proportions, raised at just the right distance above her eyes. Her eyes, I found myself mesmerized by, as this dark of her widened pupils extended up and into the lushness of her brows. Spots of light, spaced so right, they dazzled the actual color of her irises, of the dark brown there that I had never allowed myself to gaze into this deeply.

And I still couldn't, not yet—not in my moderate shyness.

I traced my stare instead down the straight angle of her nose. The strength of her bridge, pulling her face together in a toughened edge, offset so by the softness of her cheekbones, so womanly in looks.

Ashley's skin had reddened, and remained red with my eyes on her like this. But it was such a pleasant shade. So very pleasant, highlighting the random spacing of the darker, freckle-like pigmentations scattered over her skin in attractiveness. Not a single layer of foundation to cover any of it. No mascara to thicken her already-thick lashes. No powder to conceal the slight shine over her T-section of her nose and her brow, letting her keep her child-like brightness.

More brightness, far more so in her incredible lips, parted just so as she looked at me, wanting subconsciously—not on purpose, not in any real awareness—for me to kiss her.

Out of everyone I had kissed in my life, Ashley was the only one who made me melt at the mere thought of kissing her again, as perfect and divine as her lips were, so firm and welcoming, like a warm hug.

And her eyes again.

The way this dark brown existed in her irises, it had pulled me in, all the way.

The way the color didn't quite fill her eyes, jagged and stretched more by the width of her pupils.

All at once, in my vanity, I realized that Ashley's effortless looks were everything to me.

I had lived a life of fashion, living and breathing _style_ to survive back at home.

I had an eye for style like no other. This eye had helped me survive. This sight of mine had kept me alive.

Aside from this simple haircut, Ashley didn't even have to _try_ at all, and already she was…

Waking up from her own trance, she raised her free hand to her cheek, investigating.

Ashley then asked in cluelessness, "Is there something on my face?"

And she was _such_ a fucking airhead sometimes, ruining this romantic moment—I wanted to laugh.

I finally felt this eternal heat for her breach my heart.

No longer confined to my stomach, to my lower chest alone, I felt everything for her, short of _knowing_ the sexual bliss we would inevitably have. Just short of knowing that, still, it didn't matter. I had already given her a taste; she had already given me a bigger taste in dreaming, in writing.

It was too late for me to turn this back off, to ever shut it off—in case of emergency.

Fight or flight response: I turned around and left, leaving her standing there, shouting after me—

"Shepard, hey!" called Ashley, even as everyone else continued to argue, not hearing her. "Will you get back here?! What was that all about? Where are you going?"

I cloaked.

I escaped down the hall.

I left the house.

I left, even as Ashley ran out the front door after me, unable to follow me beyond that point. She couldn't see the slight glimmer of my invisibility underneath the pale red of this sunset glow. She couldn't think to follow me back to the ship, my destination now—my only one, my obvious one. As good luck for me, she didn't see that only, that obvious, likely assuming I had disappeared to go on some random walk, away from her.

Retreating back to the safety of the _Normandy_ , back to my room, I needed to see the rest for myself.

I chose to avoid Ashley in-person one last time, instead facing this one final thing— _hard and fast._

* * *

Back in my private cabin, I had switched the settings on my omni-tool on the way here:

_Unavailable._

I didn't want anyone calling me, disturbing me.

Not even Ashley.

Not yet, not now.

Sitting down at my desk in a rush, I used my terminal to pull up my email. Already, Ashley had sent me a new message, seeing as I was unavailable for her to call me:

_From: Ashley – You left?_

_Shepard,_

_Why'd you run off like that?_

_Where did you go?_

_Call me._

_-Ashley_

I couldn't respond to her now.

I couldn't call her now.

I could only focus on one thing at a time right now.

Finding that other email chain from her— _Hard and fast_ —I went back to the same email I had re-read earlier. Three attachments here from Ashley: two pictures, and one video message. Hovering my mouse over the first picture, I swallowed this air down my throat, needing to swallow more from her, already.

One thing at a time.

One thing at a time.

I clicked on the first picture from Ashley in this message, opening it.

Searing me, the full monitor of my screen expanded with this showing of her skin, her body— _teasing._

Topless, she wrapped her arm just around her breasts, only showing me the perfect length of her cleavage, keeping me from seeing everything.

Her other arm, her omni-tool arm, she had angled just enough to show that she had used it to take this picture of herself.

Her shoulders and her arms, lean and fit, but still angled in softness all at once, and the gorgeous slope of her collar bone—her skin radiated in this light, giving off an aura of how much she wanted me.

Her loose hair spilled down to her back, longer than today, and shaped around and out of the way.

And she had kept most of her face out of the picture, only showing me her lips:

That cocky, confident quirk of her lips shining in the light of the room, so thick in lusciousness.

This angle, this lighting, this tease from her—this was pure art.

She had _absolutely_ picked up a thing or two from my photo shoots, from the fashion magazines I was in.

Ashley knew exactly what she was doing with this. She knew…how to stimulate my mind, how to surprise me:

Because the second picture was this same subject of her, this same view of her—this time _with_ her face. With the continuation of that cocky smirk, and with her eyes edged in such knowing amusement, _knowing_ that I couldn't resist: she knew that I wanted her. She knew that I craved her, and that I still forced myself to sit here and _look_ , keeping myself caged here in my control.

Because if I gave in right at this very second…

Then I would have gone back to find her.

Back to Liara's house.

Back to the living room, where Ashley likely sat with the others, probably not even watching whatever movie they'd finally picked out, instead stewing over my strangeness and my silence.

And if I gave in, I would have gone up to Ashley on that couch she was on, and tore her clothes off with everyone around, with everyone watching. I would have pinned her down and fucked her right then and there, non-stop. I would have claimed her, _humiliating her_ in front of everyone, reducing her to this whining mess that I couldn't stop thinking about, couldn't stop imagining.

I was such a monster, deep down.

Still, I knew that Ashley wanted this from me, and not deep down—but right on her heart over her sleeve, for me…for me, and no one else, since she had way too much pride, and for good reason.

I was about to open the vid message she'd attached.

I needed a drink first.

Going to my mini-refrigerator, I found a pre-mixed cocktail of Blue Thessia that I'd saved: fruit juice, vodka, cognac, white wine, and a sweet blue Thessian wine. Since I only had wine glasses—only had room for wine glasses—I poured some of the azure drink in one, before stowing the rest of it away.

I had saved this for the eventual trip I knew we would take to Thessia at some point, for Liara.

When I'd bought it, Ashley and I had been in the middle of a fight—over Liara, pointlessly so—and not speaking to each other. Because I was mad at Ashley at the time, I had wondered if I might not have wanted to be in a monogamous relationship with her at some point. Because I knew she would ask me eventually. Because I knew she would want to set that condition, despite what she'd said when making her case before, about changing my mind: how she could never ask me to leave Liara's side.

At that time, I had entertained the idea that I'd go back to Liara instead, if only to get away from Ashley's audacious drama. But I had felt stuck, because I was secretly turned-on by her drama, by how much Ashley wanted me and valued me—even to the point of making her feel insecure at times.

That, and I found it incredibly hot how Ashley just had no brakes whatsoever, unlike me…

Not that I would ever admit this to her.

Seeing this bottle of Blue Thessia mix at a store on the Citadel down in the Wards, I'd thought of the double-meaning: how I had walked away from the chance to take Liara's virginity for myself.

Asari blood was purple.

This drink was very much blue, but with the right extra ingredients, it could've been purple instead.

Once I'd realized where my mind had gone back then, I had felt sick to my stomach. Because, again, even though Ashley and I weren't in a relationship, we might as well have been. She got on my case over another woman like this. She hated when other women gave me attention, or flirted with me, or even stared at me from a distance—especially if they were pretty, and especially if she knew that I knew they were pretty. She understood that I could've been a real player and a heartbreaker if I _wanted_ to be.

So I had bought the bottle anyway, of the mind to drink the cocktail only when I could fully accept Ashley's drama for what it was. Not with the expectation that my acceptance would keep us from ever fighting again in the future. Far from it. Though I had still apologized to her soon after—regardless of whether the argument was really my fault or not. I always had to apologize first in these instances. But she'd appreciated it then, as she had every other time, loving that I chose to set my pride aside for her.

And now I took the drink back to my desk with me, preparing myself to accept her completely.

All of her—not just her drama, her stubbornness, her insecurities, her unfairness at times.

 _All of her_ , as she was, as this unbelievable woman I was going to fall in love with someday.

Ashley was bound to email me again soon.

I wanted to watch _at least_ one of her vids before she did, and before I felt obligated to finally call her.

Taking a sip of this heady sweetness, I opened the attachment with Ashley's vid message to me:

Similar posing, similar lighting—Ashley was on her bed in the crew's quarters, over her stomach, and looking right at me. The way she covered her breasts with her arm, and that cocky smirk of hers, wanting something so damn specific in her mouth then—she breathed with that one thing in mind, giving me this moment to really take her in. And even though she wore nothing up top, she angled her body just enough to show me the tight black pants she wore, alluring in that outline of her strong legs.

Still smirking, Ashley spoke directly to me, so full of her sexy confidence: _"Hey, Shepard… I already know you're not gonna watch this any time soon. Not right after I send it to you. Probably not for a while. That's okay, though… Once you finally see me like this, I have a feeling I'll be able to tell. You won't admit it on your own. I know you won't. You're so stubborn—it drives me crazy sometimes…_

" _But, you know what else drives me crazy? I've been thinking…about the few times I managed to get you to talk about sex, what you like. You were kinda vague when we talked about it last. Was it because I only kept asking you about vanilla things? I'm not exactly experienced in the same ways you are—I'd want us to start off normal, at least the first couple of times you take me. After that—I think I know what you really want. What you won't talk about. Maybe you think it'll scare me. It doesn't."_

Ashley waited here for a moment.

She just… _looked at me_ with the suggestion of what she planned on saying next.

I hadn't intended to bring this up with her yet, if at all.

If Ashley would've preferred us to have a vanilla relationship, then I wouldn't have minded. The intensity we shared already was stimulating enough.

But Ashley wanted more.

She wanted everything with me…

" _I wanna know, Shepard. You're the dominant type, aren't you? You're used to using your power to get what you want. You love it when a woman's completely submissive to you. That exchange of trust… I get the idea behind it. I want to experience it with you one day, and every day after that. I want you deep inside my heart, and my mind, enough to turn me on… I need you to show me all the things I never knew I wanted, to expand my horizons. And I've already started on my own, sort of._

" _I want to be submissive to you…but not always. Not every time. It's automatic for me to do it these days, because of our situation… I'm not supposed to get aroused whenever you give me an order, but I do—and I fight harder with that feeling. It's like a high, a shot of pure adrenaline. But, sometimes…I think about taking_ you _instead. Sometimes…about half the time. I want to top you. I want to know how you sound, how you feel underneath me. I want you to trust me. I want you to let go with me…_

" _I know—it's a lot to ask for. It's a lot to want, a lot to need. You more or less said that you never let anyone touch you. You didn't mention if it's because you don't like it, or if it's just a trust thing. Right now, today, I can't see you giving up your power like that. And I'm really not sure if it's a mistake for me to bring this up at all… I guess, for now, I only want you to think it over. Someday, I hope you can trust me enough to let me feel you completely. I want you to love me like that, too. It could be beautiful."_

Ashley smiled at me in sincerity, and in her own love, before ending the vid.

Only a black screen over my vid player—and my face had reddened with this steaming ardor of mine.

No one had ever dared to be that forward with me. And I'd had a fleeting feeling, before, that if Ashley _was_ into power plays, then she probably would've been a switch. Her strong personality, and mine—I had worried in the past that we would only clash when it came to this, and that I never could've trusted her like this, to let her in completely.

Now that she had said the words, I felt this back-and-forth, this switch of my own, switching on and off:

As much as I saw myself fucking Ashley down to the bone one day soon, I could see the opposite, too.

I could see myself _wanting her_ like that.

I held my head, reeling over this, just before another email from her came in:

_From: Ashley – Re: You left?_

_Shepard,_

_I'm not messing around here._

_I'm worried about you. I don't know where you are. I'm going to start freaking out soon._

_I need an explanation._

_Just fucking call me already._

_Now._

_-Ashley_

I called her through our private frequency.

Ashley didn't respond right away, likely surprised that _I_ had called her right away—this time.

She'd said to call her _now_ , and I was turned on by her sense of urgency about this, so…

" _Shepard, what the hell?!"_ shouted Ashley, sounding like she was on her way to a different room. _"Why'd you just bail like that? You're staring at me one minute, then gone the next! Did you go back to the ship? Back to your cabin where I can't follow you?! If you needed some space, you could've said so!"_

I spoke from my heart, with this low husk in my voice, deep from my throat, "I'm sorry, babe…"

Ashley paused.

Just like I knew she would.

Catching her breath, her own voice lightened in breathlessness, _"What…?"_

Firmer, deeper: "I said I'm sorry, babe."

Harder Ashley worked to breathe, nearly light-headed in her disbelief.

" _No… No, Shepard, no… You can't do that. You can't—_ say _that to me, like I'm… It isn't fair."_

I told her, again, "Babe, it was my bad. I wasn't thinking straight. I shouldn't have left you like that. I understand I made you worry. I hear you, Ash. Let me make it up to you…"

So light, so breathy, _"Oh, my God… There's no way… No way you just said that to me."_

"Ash—"

"— _no, Shepard, I… I-I didn't plan on any of this happening—not any time soon. Not today, not tonight. I mean, I figured… I thought_ I _would be the one to keep doing this. I never thought I'd get to hear you like this… Not for months. Maybe even years… And now…"_

Making sure that this wasn't the alcohol talking, I made myself clear: "I want you, Ashley. I want you, all of you. Everything about you. I want you to be with me—"

She panicked, _"—fuck… Fuck!"_ Forcing her senses back in place, Ashley told me, _"Shepard, if that's really true… If—if you're not actually drunk right now, and…and if you're not just saying whatever… Then I need you to say it in person. Not like this… I need you to look into my eyes while you tell me."_

I stood up from my desk. "Then I'll go back over there to you—"

"— _damnit, no! No! Not yet! Are you… Are you drunk right now?! Is that it?"_

"Ash, I'm not drunk," I replied, letting her hear the sobriety in my voice. She groaned, loudly. "What's going on? Why can't you believe what I'm saying?"

"… _because, it's you._ You. _And…and maybe I don't believe you've gotten everything out of your system."_

"What is there to _get out of my system?_ What do you mean?"

Agonizing, Ashley said, _"What else_ could _I mean? Liara! I know you still want her!"_

"Fucking hell, Ashley, I'm not talking about Liara right now!"

" _Well I am! You still wanna fuck her, don't you? You feel like you missed out! You didn't get to take her virginity! And don't fucking lie to me, Shepard—I know you! I know how you feel… You think I didn't see her talking to you in the hall earlier? The way you two looked at each other… God, it pissed me off…"_

I nearly lost it—"Then why didn't you say that when I almost ran into you?!"

" _You left, remember?! You left, you bailed! I thought you went after her!"_

"Goddamnit, the _only time_ I ever think about Liara like this is when you bring her up! Why do you always insist on starting these motherfucking arguments over her?!"

" _Did you not hear me? I said you still want her! You do! You're not even denying it!"_

"Ashley, there's _always_ going to be someone else that I'm attracted to! It's inevitable; it's how shit works! What matters is that _I chose you!_ I picked you, and I want to be with you, no matter how much you piss me off like this!"

When she paused again, I thought that I might have gotten through to her.

Instead, Ashley chose to ram right back up against my head— _"I'll believe it when I see it, lover girl. I learned my lesson with you. I'm not just gonna get down on my knees and be oh so grateful that you_ chose me _—not anymore, now that you've admitted this. You're used to me being submissive to you. You're used to giving out the orders while I take them. Not with this. Hell no."_

The one fucking time I finally give her my heart, and _this_ was what happened?

"What are you talking about?" I questioned. "Why do you keep bringing up shit that doesn't matter?! Why are you acting like this? Can't we just have _one conversation_ without you blowing up at me?"

" _No, Shepard, we can't!"_ yelled Ashley, incensed again. _"That was easy enough to do before, back when I thought you'd never really make up your mind about me. I was ready to go at your pace, exactly like I promised. And I did that!_ You _changed the game now. You're the one asking me out! You put power in my hands, and you're wondering why I'm acting like this?!"_

"Damnit, Ash, I don't understand you—"

"— _don't give me that bullshit! You do understand me! You know what I want, and you know why I won't say the words out loud! You're just ignoring it because of your stupid pride!"_

I almost sputtered, "Are you asking me to kick her off the ship?!"

Ashley derided me, _"No, I'm not. Who's the one bringing up Liara now? I wasn't even talking about her."_

Nearly losing it, _again_ —"Ash, you did NOT just fucking twist this around back on me! Stop being such a brat! Stop being so unfair! Just tell me what you want already!"

She laughed softly, venomous. _"You know exactly what I want, Shepard. You always do… Stop playing dumb. It's not a good look on you. If you want me to be yours, then give me what I need. Do what I expect, what I crave from you. If you can't do that, then I'll know where we stand."_

Ashley hung up in my face.

In a raging reflex, I called her right back.

She picked up right away, aggravated: _"What?"_

Beyond pissed off, controlling myself—"I wasn't finished, Ash."

" _Well,_ I _was,"_ she sassed. _"And_ you _sound like you're still pissed off. Look, I don't wanna do this again. Don't call me back if all you're gonna do is argue. Don't come over here starting a fight, either. Your intuition's like a knife against my mind, cutting away at every single thought I have. Your head is right against my heart…_ You know _what I want from you! How's it not obvious by now? Have you not been paying attention to me?! Seriously, stop playing dumb! If you want all of me, you'll prove it. So prove it."_

Ashley hung up on me again!

_Son of a bitch…_

I resisted the urge to call her back— _again_ —choosing to stew with this instead.

Drinking more from my half-full glass, I pulled from this well of my feelings for Ashley, and worked to put these pieces together. But even as I somehow kept my anger at bay, I felt like I _couldn't_ accept the only answer. I couldn't reckon with this singular solution in the back of my head, tingling and reverberating as the _only,_ obvious thing that she wanted from me.

So I watched a few more of her vid messages, trying to fill in these _supposedly_ missing clues.

As much as my mouth watered from her teasing, and as much as I couldn't tear my eyes from the screen, I had those singular answers reinforced.

I found more supporting evidence, even more, in some of the things that Ashley said to me:

" _You're a real boss, Shepard, but I know you. I know what you really are. You wanna please the woman you're with. You want to get on your knees in front of her; do whatever she says. And you'd do anything for her…once you get rid of your pride."_

" _Would you drop down and kiss my legs if I told you to? Would I even have to say the words first? If you felt it from me—if you felt what I wanted—would you give it to me on your own? Without me needing to ask? If you could, then it'd be a dream come true… Sometimes, I don't want to speak. I want you to just know. To just—give me what I want, right then and there. Read my mind. Feel me. Love me…"_

" _Maybe I shouldn't admit this. Maybe it's way too soon… I want you to make_ me _the center of your universe, Shepard. As hard as you work for the rest of the galaxy, I want you to work twice as hard to satisfy me. And I know I'm greedy. I'm selfish. I can be a major brat sometimes when I don't get my way. I wish I could change that… I wish I could be perfect for you. But I can't. All I can be…is consistent, for you. You know what you're up for with me. Everything I do, and everything I am, is for you._

" _I know you, Shepard. I know what you're scared of. I know the things you won't say out loud. You're scared of getting attached to someone; falling in love with them. You're afraid of losing them once you do. Or you're terrified that you'll get so attached, you won't be able to shut off and protect yourself anymore once things go wrong. Hell, I'm scared of turning you off with how ridiculous I am. I'm always terrified I'll wake up to an email from you one day, saying you can't do this anymore. That you're sick of me. You're tired of me. All of that. But I keep going, because I know you want me to be real with you._

" _I completely understand why you feel this way… I only wish you could see that I'm not going anywhere. I love you to death. I'm always going to love you. I'm always going to be here—living with you, fighting with you, learning with you. Deep in my heart, I know you want to do the same for me, too. Swear to God, I feel how much you have it in you. I cling to it, so hard. And I want you to believe in that. Please…"_

After about an hour of this, I couldn't keep denying the truth.

The only, obvious truth.

Ashley wanted me to take her as she was—or not at all.

Even if it meant staying in this limbo together, she needed me to be all or nothing about this.

And not only that.

There was way more, not-so-hidden in the context of this power dynamic she craved with me.

Was this fair? Would she be _fair_ with me if I did this?

Ashley was always fair, and sweet, and loving again—only after I apologized and made things up to her…regardless of whether the fight was my fault or not…

I should have resented her by now, just like I had when my exes had tried to do this with me.

 _Why_ …didn't I resent her, at all?

Maybe because she loved me so much, nothing could stick. Nothing could build, or collect, or decay.

Almost shivering with these fears of mine, I managed to subdue myself.

I called her back.

Ashley picked up, sounding terse in her false neutrality— _"Hey."_

I remained subdued: "Hey…"

She noticed this change, and changed a bit herself. _"…you sound different."_

Feeling my neck heat up over this lovely sound of her voice, I confirmed, "I do, yeah…"

" _Why, Shepard? What changed?"_

"I know what you want from me."

Ashley gave herself away in the quivering breath she let out, still trying to keep her tone steady: _"And what do you think I want?"_

"If we're going to be together, then you want to be in charge. You want me to please you. You want me to do what you want, as long as I want it, too. You have to have things your way or not at all. You need me to make you the center of my universe. I'm prepared to do that."

Breathing harder in her fulfillment, she made my last point for me, _"Even with all that…you still need me to be fair. Reward you. Show you my appreciation."_

"That goes without saying," I confirmed. "But if I'm going to do this, then you have to understand—it's only between us, personally. The second work is involved, _I'm_ in charge. No questions asked."

Making yet another point— _"Yes, Sir…"_

I already knew what she would say; I had my follow-up ready—"It's your call, then, Ash."

Ashley responded as I'd predicted: _"…I'm not ready to give you my answer yet. I want to see how shore leave goes. And I want to see you tomorrow. I want to spend the whole day with you. All day, all night."_

"We can do that," I promised. "I'll be over there by noon."

" _Yeah, that's probably for the best… Something tells me I'm going to be up all night with everyone. I'm surprised you can't hear them—it's like a madhouse in the living room. Should be fun, though…"_

"Ashley."

Sounding a bit dazed: _"Hmm?"_

"When you're ready to give me your answer, I need you to have a contract for us to sign."

Taken aback, she fought not to stutter, _"You mean—_ a contract? _Like, with what we agreed on just now, and—a list of…the things I want from you… For later. Way later on."_

"Yes, that's right," I responded. "If you have to do some research first, by all means, go ahead. Make a list of what you're interested in, what you want from me, what you expect from me. I'll look it over. If I'm not into something, I'll let you know. We'll talk about it. We can adjust the contract later if something comes up—if something changes. Just be sure to include the safe word you want."

" _But, Shepard… What_ don't _you like? I-I've never done this before, and…and I don't want to mess up."_

I already knew: "Let's just say I don't need a whip to make you scream out in pleasure and pain."

Ashley hissed her breath in, and out, straight through her teeth.

She may have known exactly what she wanted out of me in a relationship—but I was still allowed and able to flip the script on her whenever I felt the need.

She was a brat.

I knew how to handle her type.

" _Okay…so you're not into those toys,"_ she figured out. _"Those tools. You're more into…raw power, on a mental level. On an emotional one. You'd rather use your body, your words. Your presence. Your intensity. You love mind fucks. Does that sound about right…?"_

"That's right, Ashley," I said, patronizing _just enough._

Another hiss, and a barely-concealed whine. _"I can't believe the way you…you switched on me like that. I'm only now noticing, and—and you're good. You're too good. It scares me…but I_ really _like it. Still, you have to be fair with me, Shepard… You're way more powerful than I am. Go easy on me for now?"_

"Already planned on it, babe."

Ashley's beaming smile sounded through her voice, _"Mmm, that works for me… Hey, why don't you give me time to do my research tonight? I'll hang out with the others first; wait until they fall asleep. I already know they'll be on my case if I don't go back out there soon. Ugh, they're already looking for me…"_

"Go ahead," I allowed. "I'll stay here tonight. You should spend some time with everyone."

" _I know,"_ she accepted. _"It's too bad, that's all. I wanted to see you at midnight…"_

Smirking, I kept my amusement out of my voice, "Why?"

" _Uh…n-no reason! Just…just to see you."_

Ashley was so damn sweet.

Maybe next year.

"If you say so, Ash," I told her.

She laughed softly, barely containing her glee with me. _"All right, then… And Shepard, bring your video games tomorrow. Definitely that shooter you mentioned a few times—you know, with the N7 characters? I wanna watch you play. Maybe you can teach me the ropes!"_

"Yeah, I'd like that. I'll bring it over for you."

" _Good! Can't wait to see you again. Bye for now…"_

"Bye, Ashley."

Even after we hung up, I knew that this night with her wasn't yet over.

Indirectly, at least.

I finished my drink, staring at some of Ashley's pictures as I did, before logging out of my terminal.

I took another shower, to make sure no one would be able to smell the day on me.

I then headed back to Liara's place, cloaking to invisibility once I was close enough.

* * *

Nighttime partying amped up, the team hardly held back on this first evening of shore leave. Music blasting, synth sounds practically waving through the walls, I was impressed with this atmosphere. Benezia's highbrow, ultra-classy mansion had been taken down a peg, at least, all for everyone's amusement and enjoyment, having turned into a nightclub with picture windows and high ceilings.

I took extra care in navigating these halls, the walls reddened by the light glare of the music video blasting through the gigantic TV screen in the living room. Not quite a college frat party, but definitely not a civilized gathering: I couldn't help feeling like everyone would have cut back a lot if they knew I was here, not wanting to get _too_ fucked up around me.

Still, aside from the drinking game going on right now in the living room, everyone seemed to be fine.

Standing around the coffee table by the couches, Wrex and Joker took turns knocking back shots. Sitting down nearby on one of the couches, Tali egged them on, sipping her one drink through a straw. Kaidan sat next to her, expressing disbelief that Joker could somehow keep up with Wrex—so far, at least.

Liara wasn't here.

Off in a corner by the kitchen and the sliding glass doors, Garrus stared outside, drinking. Every so often, he would glance into the kitchen, looking at Ashley there. And Ashley took her time sifting through the refrigerator, deciding what she wanted to drink. She eventually settled on another one of those blue wine coolers she'd had earlier, and left back to the living room.

She found Garrus on the way there, stopping to rib him, seeming to ask why he was alone over there.

Keeping to the shadows as much as possible, I approached them, listening:

"Hey, Garrus, what's up?" asked Ashley, grinning wide. "Couldn't handle the drinking game?"

Garrus returned her grin, easy. "I'm not much for drinking games," he replied. "Prefer to keep my head on. The second I start seeing double, it means I've lost my concentration. Just feels weird."

"Totally know the feeling. I'm…trying not to drink too much tonight, either. Don't wanna deal with a hangover tomorrow. _Especially_ not tomorrow."

"Yeah, I bet," teased Garrus. Thinking of something specific, Ashley laughed a bit, so bright. "You know, Ashley, you're _really_ glowing tonight. Not used to seeing you smile this much. New haircut, new you. If I didn't know any better, I'd say you're looking to score soon. Know what I mean…?"

Playing coy: "I don't know what you're talking about…"

Garrus chuckled. "Sure you do," he insisted, so smooth. "A lady as good-looking as you are? You must be used to getting all the attention. I bet you know just the thing to make everyone's heads turn as you walk by. And you seem like you know exactly what you want. Your confidence is definitely infectious."

Ashley almost giggled in delight—"Garrus! _This_ is a surprise… Are you… _flirting with me?"_

"Well, I have to say," prefaced Garrus, "I'm not normally attracted to humans… But I can tell _you're_ attractive, among your kind. Can't say I'm trying to hit on you, though. Besides, if I _was,_ I wouldn't be nearly as coherent as I am now. I'm usually not that great with…actual flirting, when I _am_ trying. I tend to get tongue-tied. Saying all the wrong things. Missing my chances. Not a pretty sight."

Laughing with him, Ashley let herself smile fully. "That's still sweet of you to say," she told him, flattered. "I had no idea I was… _glowing._ It's not like there's anything happening with me…"

Garrus drank from his cup, eyeing her in amusement. " _Nothing's_ happening with you? Nothing at all?"

"Nope! Nothing going on here… Just the same old, same old. The usual!"

"Oh come on, Ashley. If you think I buy that, then I've got a bridge to sell you."

Then, Garrus gestured to Ashley, for her to follow him into the kitchen, farther away from the others.

She did so, asking, "Hey, where'd you hear that from?!"

"Tali taught that one to me," replied Garrus, leaning against the center island of marble. "Said she learned it from you. Figured I'd use it right back. You know, really drive the point home."

Ashley still tried to act coy, sipping her own wine cooler to buy time. "Not sure what point _that_ is…"

"Are we _really_ doing this, Chief? Playing dumb? Or should I make another joke about fire alarms? Sprinklers, to cool you and Shepard off? That should be enough to jog your memory." When all Ashley did was groan, playing it off, Garrus kept going: "Hey, think the commander's into exhibitionism? The way she looks at you sometimes, she may as well have ripped your clothes off in front of everyone—"

Glancing behind them to make sure everyone else was still in the living room, Ashley hissed at him, "Oh, my God, Garrus! I can't believe you just said that!"

Garrus pointed out, "Well, if _you_ won't say it, then someone has to. You and Shepard have had this _thing_ going for months now. Think we didn't notice?"

" _We?_ You mean _everyone knows?!_ What the hell? How!?"

"You can't tell me you're _that_ clueless…"

"Garrus, seriously, if you're just pulling my leg…"

Drinking again, and observing her in fascination, Garrus said, "I _think_ you think I'm joking. Right?" Ashley sighed and nodded, wracking her brain to figure out how everyone _else_ had figured this out. "Listen, I'll help you out. Shepard and Liara have cooled off lately, after what happened on Noveria—for obvious reasons. When those two are in a room together, there are sparks, sure. When you and Shepard are together? It's pure fire, we're all burning, and everyone's just sitting there, like _this is fine."_

Ashley rolled her eyes, snapping, "Ugh, is _that_ what your damn jokes are about?! Man, no wonder…"

"So, what are you waiting for?" prompted Garrus. "She wants you. You want her. Why not go for it?"

"Garrus, it's not that simple… We _tried_ to keep it a secret before, because of Alliance regulations. Since everyone _knows_ now, I guess there's nothing holding us back these days…"

"You guess?"

Uncertain if she should tell the truth or not, Ashley only hummed, thinking.

Garrus speculated, "This about Liara? Her feelings for Shepard?"

Smiling now, Ashley surprised me when she said, "No… I can actually deal with that. It's not a problem for me. Sure, it used to be a huge issue—I'd get jealous or whatever… Not anymore."

"Then what's holding you back?" asked Garrus. Noticing some of her reservations, he added, "Hey, I'm here to support you. Nothing we talk about leaves this room. _Scout's honor_ , as you humans say."

Ashley smiled over his consideration. "Okay, okay," she accepted. "I'm just… _really_ scared that she'll get sick of me one day and leave. I'll admit—I'm a total drama queen sometimes. I already know I drive Shepard crazy whenever I pick fights with her or whatever. I start shit on purpose, almost like _I'm trying_ to drive her away. And then I'll probably force her to go, and I'll be like…well, I'm too much for her…"

"Sounds like you're self-sabotaging," spotted Garrus. "Think that's a good idea?"

Sitting on a nearby barstool, Ashley grumbled, "Of course it's not a good idea… It's a terrible idea! Shepard's going to end up hating me sooner or later, and it's gonna be all my fault!"

"Well, what does she usually do when the two of you argue? What happens?"

"At first? We have it out. She _finally_ stops controlling herself, and she just— _yells._ Even if I'm pissed off and seeing red, I'm so…turned on by the way she lets go with me. You know how reserved Shepard normally is. So when I get to hear her real self, unfiltered, it's like a high… But one of us eventually shuts down the argument. Then we stop talking for a while."

Garrus wondered, "For how long?"

Ashley hummed, searching for an estimation. "Never for more than like…a day," she recalled. "Sometimes it's less than that. Just recently, we got into it again… I hung up on her. She called me right back, and— _God,_ I fucking _loved_ that from her… I tried so hard not to show it, since I was supposed to be mad at her… _And I_ _was…_ so then we kept fighting. I hung up on her again. She waited like an hour before calling back that time. She was so different—so smooth and sexy and _subservient_ to me—and…"

"Think I figured this out the second you said you hung up on her."

"Figured this out?" asked Ashley, worried. "What do you mean?"

"You hung up on Shepard. On _Commander_ _Shepard._ And she called you back, even after you did it again. I assume she chose to make up with you. Didn't bother waiting for you to cool down first—she just went for it and smoothed things over. Sound about right?"

Smiling in mischief—"Yeah…she did… So what?"

Garrus spoke the obvious, "Ashley, this is _Shepard_ we're talking about. If she can set her pride aside like that to put you first, don't you think you have your answers?"

Not getting it at first, she only stared at him.

Sipping his drink, Garrus gave her a look—that she knew _exactly_ what he meant.

And then Ashley grinned, delighted…before falling back to her fears.

This sounded like something that wouldn't go away with one simple conversation.

I headed back down the nearest hall, retreating far enough away to break my cloak, resetting the vague strain I felt in my head. I wasn't sure if it was a good idea to keep eavesdropping on Garrus and Ashley, since I had already overheard way too much.

Ashley's self-sabotaging… _could have_ grown into a major issue for us.

On the one hand, I was glad to know why our arguments were so intense—even getting her off at times.

On the other, this awareness helped me see into a possible future with her—one that I didn't want to look at, to acknowledge, or to know about at all.

But wasn't this the point of my feelings for her now? To love her unconditionally someday?

And wasn't it better for me to _know_ that Ashley struggled with this? Instead of assuming she just didn't give a fuck about stressing me out? She did care—so much so that she hesitated to tell me _yes._

Armed with this knowledge, I decided to head back to the _Normandy_ , needing to reflect on this throughout the rest of the night. If I was really going to put Ashley first, I had to learn to do the impossible. Finding patience deeper down within me, in the bones of me, the marrow of me. Drinking myself dry, all for her to fill me back up again with her appreciation…if I could survive for that long.


	11. Collective Unconscious

" _I Want You" by Madonna ft. Massive Attack / "Saints" from Madlax (OST 2)_

 **XI.** Collective Unconscious

_(Shepard)_

Lying down in bed, surrounded by this tangible blue all around me, I turned over to look at my clock.

_12:00am._

Exactly midnight.

Thirty years old.

I was _supposed to be_ completely mature now…

Reaching under my comforter on top of me, I felt my dilemma. After I'd showered and all of that about twenty minutes ago, I had taken the time to put on my clothes for bed: one of my usual white tank tops, a regular white T-shirt on top, a pair of boxer briefs. Reinforcing that, I'd put on this tight, stretchy fabric of black under-armor on, like pants—like those yoga pants that Ashley was so fond of, despite not doing yoga herself—just to keep this in. I'd tried putting on my black sweatpants over that, as another layer, but I had kicked those off a few minutes ago.

This strap-on I wore underneath all of this: it pulsed and throbbed, petulant from being ignored.

The clothes I wore were enough to keep this latched down.

I was _about to. I wanted to._ Watching more of those vid messages from Ashley all night had gotten me in this perpetual mood. And I surprised myself in wanting her this way. It wasn't just about the heat, the sex— _fucking._ I was so close to falling into something more with Ashley, from the way her very soul pulled and tugged at mine, daring me to be bold and to fall for her, all of her.

Sex was usually a gateway for me. I knew, if it was truly meant to be, I'd feel it; I would express it to her.

The moment I could feel and hear Ashley's validation me from pleasing her—that would've been it.

I had a music playlist on through my alarm clock: simmering trip-hop, and soul, soothing in chill and in heat. These mixed beats and smart usages of samples had me entranced. Low enough volume to let me sleep, but loud enough to let me hear everything just right…I still couldn't let myself rest.

But then I would always think of Liara. How I'd had her here in my bed—how I'd lost control with her.

Now that I really let myself think about this, I realized: she gave up. Or at least it seemed like she did.

And I could admit how it bothered me so much, messing with my head. Were her personal issues more important than fighting for me? Did she not care enough to put up a fight in the same ways Ashley did? Would she have given up completely if it looked like Ashley was about to lock in a relationship with me?

What Liara and I'd had—it only lasted a few days in reality, in-person.

But those few days had changed me, indelibly so—forever. She continued to impact me, even now.

The same was true for her, otherwise she wouldn't have asked me out on this date in the morning.

Without Liara, there was no Ashley and me.

Without Liara, I wouldn't have grown, changed, or matured at all over these months.

And, realizing this, too, maybe I _hadn't_ been able to let go of her at the drop of a dime…

Open and exposed, I felt my eyes misting and my chest constricting, finally missing her after all this time.

Missing her…and _so much more_ , so fucking sudden, terrifying me damn near to death as I lay here.

Slipping and falling away in my exposure, that block I'd kept up, keeping Liara from feeling me: it dissolved away in the salt of this mist coating over my eyes. So transcendent, I felt her essence wrapping back around mine, lifting me to a higher plane, higher and higher than anything I had ever witnessed before. All of her knowledge, all of her experiences bolstered mine, reinforcing my mind's foundation.

Before, I had only felt Liara as my protector, my healer, soothing me in the waters of her eternal calm.

 _This_ was…new, more—having grown for me over this time, having evolved even while dormant in me.

But in this same vein, whatever dam I'd had left over my heart keeping Ashley out, those same waters had crashed right through. And I saw everything with Ash, absolutely everything, heightened and lifted by this transcendence flowing through me. So meant to be, I needed to know her, mind, body, and soul.

My last defenses, gone.

I only had one option left in case this all went south.

The _Normandy's_ VI sent an alert to the panel behind my alarm clock. Grunting over the interruption at this hour, I sat up, leaning over my nightstand to check the panel. I wiped at my eyes to dry them, sniffling, as I saw the request: someone was in the main elevator, requesting access to come up here.

I frowned over this person's timing, but otherwise gave them my permission.

Putting my sweatpants back on, I couldn't even think to change out of my strap, my toy. Consumed by fire again—though it had never truly left me in the first place—I decided to go along with whatever this was. _All of it._ Not just tonight. Not just tomorrow. Whatever came from this whole situation I was in, there was really no point in fighting it any longer. I had tried doing that, and it hadn't worked.

What was that saying, about doing the same thing over and over again and expecting different results…?

I headed over to my door, right as the person outside knocked—not quite so gentle, not quite so hard.

From that alone, I knew who this was.

I lowered my shirt and tank top down, as far as they would go over my sweatpants, concealing.

At this hiss of air from my door spreading, opening apart, I found Ashley out in the dark hall.

Infinite in her effortless allure, she had on one of the plain, oversized T-shirts that she wore to bed, and those black yoga pants of hers. Lovingly so, she had kept her hair down, as I hoped she would do out of habit from now on; and it was a bit damp, like she had recently gotten out of the shower, her rose-vanilla perfumed scent emanating. And she had her hands behind her back, holding something there.

Ashley gazed up at me through this deep indigo, so pure in her anticipation.

"Hey, Skipper," she greeted, a bit shy. "Hope I didn't wake you up. Sorry…for showing up like this."

"It's okay, Ash," I accepted. "I wasn't asleep, actually. I'm glad you're here." Stepping aside, I gestured for her to enter. "Come in. You're always welcome to see me, no matter what time it is."

"Thanks," said Ashley, smiling as she walked inside. "I know, when we talked earlier, I said I wouldn't get to see you at midnight. Figured I gave myself away… You were nice enough to not point it out. I guess since I blew the surprise, I might as well go all the way. Take the risk; come pay you a visit."

When I smiled over her consideration, she took a deep breath, steadying herself.

"Well, you're right on time," I mentioned, hoping to calm her nerves. "I'm happy you took the risk."

Ashley smiled more over the sensual ambiance around us.

"I love your taste in music," she remarked, giving me the square box she held in her hands. "And…I love _you_. Happy Birthday, Shepard."

Grinning without realizing it, I accepted her gift, her thoughtfulness:

A pro gaming controller, more than comfortable enough for long-term use, with customizable inputs.

And it wasn't huge, either, unlike most of these things designed for men with bigger hands than mine.

Coated with the color red, too, always reminding me of her.

"I really like it, babe… Thank you. This must have cost you a lot, though. You didn't have to do this."

"Hey, don't worry about that," she insisted. "I wanted to do something nice for you. You're always putting up with my drama. I don't know how you do it sometimes. I appreciate you… _everything_ you do."

Enflaming as ever, Ashley held my free hand, guiding me a little farther into the room. She stopped near my desk, near this first half of my aquarium, still up the handful of steps. Stepping back against the aquarium, ethereal white-blue lights highlighting her silhouette, she seemed to want something else from me. So I set her gift down over my desk, and went over to her, right up to her, up against her body.

Subconscious, her frame almost shrunk underneath mine: smaller, shorter than me. So passive in her receptiveness, yet active in loving these differences, Ashley looked up at me in a quieted hunger. She studied my eyes, finding the light of the water reflected in the sunlight of me, melting in those rays. And she held my hand again, pulling my arm around her waist. Needing me closer, even closer, I let her feel me, almost forgetting what I still had on between me:

Ashley gasped in her pleasant surprise, pressing herself into me more.

I caught her mouth open with mine, cherishing her, this absolute heat undiminished.

Firmer and more possessive, I pulled her even closer to me by the slant of her back. Reverberating against my knuckles from the glass of the aquarium, vibrating deep through Ashley's lips in her perfection, the bass from my music pulsed through her, as strong as her heartbeats against my chest.

Slipping my lips down to the slope of her neck tensing, coiling and uncoiling in reaction to me, closer to this pulsing, I smiled over her indulgent scent. Ashley curled her hands through my hair with my amusement, fit to burst in sensuality underneath me. An aromatherapy of her own, and one to die for: a pale, almost powdery rose scent that kicked in at the back-end, more aromatic right at the top of my nose. But still soft, and sensitive, as a tangible marker of these raw emotions in her touch, of her love for me.

Ashley eased her nails along my scalp, comforting in her rare restraint. "You…can't be real," she whispered, right into my ear. "Every single day with you feels like a dream. Like I'll wake up any second now. You won't remember any of it…and I'll be devastated."

I bundled her up in my arms, supportive. "I'm here for you, Ash. I'm not going anywhere."

"I believe you," she accepted, sighing. "…you know, I was lost without you. Now I never want to let you go. I'm holding on to you no matter what… I can't lose you, Shepard." Ashley sighed again, dispelling her fantasies for the moment. "But…before we do anything else, we should—talk first. About that research you asked me to do. Turns out I didn't have to search all that hard to find what I was looking for."

Pulling away just enough, I raised my brow, asking, "You had something specific in mind?"

Ashley pressed her hands just along my forearms for support, for control in my hold. "I did, actually," she told me. "I just…didn't have the right words for it. The right terms. I couldn't define it—not until I looked everything up. I guess, because I'm so ashamed of it, I avoided pinning things down. It gets really deep into my head, and—and I'm not sure how you'll feel about it."

"We don't have to talk about it right this second," I reassured her. "I'll ask you about something else first. Something related to this, but not quite the same. We _should_ discuss everything."

Still ashamed, unable to meet my eyes—"Okay…"

I had a feeling I knew what this kink was that had her so ashamed.

I'd picked up on it, and sensed it way before, subliminally, back when we first met on Eden Prime: how she was so eager to prove herself to me, and almost soothed by my orders, needing my leadership.

For now, I held Ashley's hand.

"Let's sit down," I guided, walking with her to the couch. "I can get us a drink if you'd like."

"I'd like that, yeah."

And even though it was only a few steps, I curled my hand upward, hooking four of her fingers under my thumb, supportive. Beyond appreciative, Ashley curled the glee of her smile into her mouth. Such a natural thing for me to do for her; such a novel thing for her to experience with me, with anyone.

Sitting her down, I took a moment to turn my TV on: reflected in the music, automatically, were the accompanying vids there on the screen.

Still holding Ashley's hand, I knelt down in front of her, just to make sure that she was all right.

She definitely was, beaming when I settled my lips just over her knuckles, still keeping her hand in mine.

"Babe, listen to me," I told her, whispering my words over her perfumed skin. "With all of this, I want you to understand: you have the power here. I know how powerful you _think_ I am. The truth is, I have nothing that you aren't willing to give me. I will never force you into anything you're uncomfortable doing. I won't abuse my own power by harming you or pushing you too hard. Can you trust me?"

Hypnotized through her eyes: "Yes… _absolutely."_

"Good. Even though we're only talking about this tonight, we should establish a safe word anyway. It doesn't just have to be a word—it can be a phrase instead. Anything that will put an immediate stop to whatever we're speaking about, whatever we're doing. I want you to include it in the contract."

Finding enough awareness to answer me: "Okay…I will. And it can't be _stop_ or _no_. Some of the things I need with you…I want to tell you to stop; I want to say no, and for you to keep going anyway. Unless…unless that's—" Ashley found an abundance of acceptance in my eyes, and of how I wanted the same. "I should…quit trying to censor myself, huh? I guess I'm just so used to it. Being ashamed of these things. Wondering what my family would think of me if they knew…"

"Ash, this is only between you and me," I said, kissing her hand. "No one else. They don't have to know."

"Right—you're right," agreed Ashley. "It's all burned into my head. I'll…I'll work on this." Finding her voice again: "As for the safe word, it can't be something that I might say by accident. Kinda drawing a blank here. You know, since I tend to blurt out whatever's on my mind, _whenever…"_

I pointed out, "That may be true, but you're not necessarily a vulgar person."

"Not unless we're arguing, no… And it's not like we'd argue hardcore like that in the middle of a scene."

I remembered that experience I had with Shiala's clone forcing herself into my mind.

I remembered what I'd yelled out in vain, to get her to stop:

"Would you ever tell me to fuck off?" I asked.

Ashley stared at me in shock. "What? No!" she said straightaway. "I could _never_ say that to you…"

"Then that's the safe word we'll use. Tell me to fuck off, and I will. But only if you're fine with it."

She couldn't deny the value, the logic there. "I see what you mean, Shepard… Okay, then."

"Okay," I settled. "Do me a favor and think about the rest of what you want from me—and what you _don't_ want. Let me get your drink while you do that. You have a taste for anything specific?"

"Mmm, you like sweet drinks, don't you? I'll try whatever you're having."

"All right. Wait here."

Searching through my refrigerator, kneeling here at this low height, I couldn't ignore the obvious parallels here in my memories. Skin lit by the ice blue of the neon lighting here, I skipped right past the bottle of Sauvignon Blanc I still had, unfinished from the night when Liara was here with me, and from yesterday when I had sipped some more of it, thinking everything over. And I couldn't settle on the Blue Thessia mix, either, because I didn't want Ashley to get the wrong—or right—idea about why I had this.

Ashley even went so far as to pick up the red blanket I had next to her, smiling as she watched the music vid playing on the TV in such a feminine sexuality; thinking everything over as I had asked her to do.

All I had left was a few varieties of other white wine, of moscato specifically.

I had some plain, normal types that were relatively inexpensive. But, no—those wouldn't do. Even if Ashley couldn't tell the difference, I wouldn't let myself give her anything cheap or common. I needed something that reflected how I saw her, how I felt about her.

I reached back for my bottle of vintage white wine from a similar grape. _Natural sweet wine_ , honeyed and sweetened in richness and in pure fruit. This was maybe a bit more sophisticated than I'd planned for on such short notice. I brought the bottle and pair of wine glasses with me back over to Ashley anyway, deciding that I wanted to impress her with this tonight.

Kneeling in front of her again, I set my glass down on the table and out of the way.

Ashley watched me pour this wine, knowing me; knowing that this glass was for her, first.

"This is normally supposed to be for dessert," I explained. "You're not hungry, are you?"

"I'm not—I'm…nervous, actually," she admitted, taking obvious note of the wine's golden brown shade, similar to the color of my skin. "Not in a bad way or anything… I've never seen this side of you before."

I handed Ashley her drink, reminding her, "A while back, you said I'm supposed to be a real romantic."

"I didn't forget, Shepard… I think about it all the time. You've _really_ surprised me tonight so far."

Red like the rose of her scent, Ashley's face heated when she smelled the wine—softly, just enough.

Letting myself smirk, I told her, "Try it, babe. It's sweet."

As she did, I poured my own glass, not wanting to make her feel self-conscious about this.

Her face reddening even more, if possible, Ashley let out a low moan of delight.

She breathed out, "You weren't kidding… It's sophisticated, just like you are. This is— _wow."_

"I'm glad you like it," I said, before sipping my own. "You ready to have the rest of our conversation?"

Ashley pushed her doubts away, warmed by how I hadn't moved from this spot. I was certain she understood my meaning, my intention in doing this for her. I knew she found her enjoyment in this, covering her possible throbbing beneath the blanket she'd quilted over her legs. And so she crossed her long legs over the couch, fitting them under the blanket anew; she then faced me at a direct angle, keen to let me lead her through this talk of ours.

As low as this couch was, and as tall as I was, Ashley was still above me, just enough.

"Yeah, I'm ready," she confirmed. "Ask me anything. Well—aside from that _one_ thing… I'll tell you about it later, after you take your turn."

"Tell me your other turn-ons, then," I requested. "Besides that one, major thing."

Ashley sipped her wine, looking through the glass and down at my concealment.

"Well, I hinted enough about one of them," she began, sounding a little more relaxed. "You wanting me like that… It _is_ a major thing that ties back around. When we had our dream, if you had just— _taken me_ —I would have loved it. I know I talk a lot of shit about not being easy or whatever… The thing is, I want you to bulldoze past all that sometimes. I want you to reduce me to that…even if it hurts. I want you to fuck me up. Then soothe me when it's all over."

"I can definitely give you that… But why am I not surprised you mentioned this type of edge play first?"

"Hey, you asked!"

Laughing again, I said, "Ashley, from that alone, I think you're more hardcore than you give yourself credit for. Don't get me wrong—I fucking love it. I expected I'd have to pull teeth with you on this."

"Mmm, no pulling teeth here, Shepard," reassured Ashley, serene. "Listen, I've spent my entire life pushing my own limits. I still do it today— _you know that._ So I know a thing or two about _hardcore._ I wasn't willing to put a label on these things that I wanted deep down. And it's not like the people I was involved with were good enough for that anyway… Just means I get to start fresh with you."

"Works for me," I accepted. "What else is there? What's something else you need?"

Glancing down between me again, Ashley licked her lips in such thoughtful mischief.

"Our dream made me think about this, too: what about…when the lines are blurred another way? Like…when you're asleep. You're sleeping, and I want you. I don't think I'd go _all the way_ , but—I'd think about…touching you. Giving you a blowjob. Basically doing something I'm not supposed to. Waking you up so you can take me. Or even if _I_ was asleep, and you touched me, slipping inside of me… It's so fucked up, but I want that with you— _badly."_

"Yeah, I'd like that," I said, grinning over the ideas, all of them. "We could have that type of trust."

Ashley laughed, so soft.

"You keep on surprising me, Shepard," she delighted. "You're pretty open-minded. I love that about you so much…" But then, she paused, looking between me again. "…the one you're wearing right now, is it—I mean, does it…? _Could you…?"_

And then she surprised _me_ with this.

"There's no mess with this one, Ash," I explained.

Ashley wanted to laugh over my euphemism. "Okay, that works," she replied, before falling back to her same hesitations. "I'm just wondering…do you have one _with_ the mess?"

"Just one," I told her. "I haven't used it with anyone before. It's a replacement for another one I had. I didn't want to keep carrying those memories around with me."

Cringing, not wanting to come off with the wrong tone, she asked, "Does it… _work?_ Like, you know… Is there—a risk? There's _always_ a risk when—when there's a mess, but… You're a woman, so you'd _have_ to use one of these if… You get what I'm saying…"

Not quite getting why she was so shy about this, I said, "Yes, if I don't use protection, then there's more of a risk." Avoiding my stare, shifting—she was clearly into the idea… "Ashley, are you on birth control?"

"Yeah, I am," she shared, so quiet.

"How long have you been on it for?"

Ashley looked into my eyes, securing the truth here: "Since I was seventeen. Back when I tried to go all the way with my ex in high school, I took the extra precautions first… Thank God the colony we were on at the time let me see a doctor about it without my parents' permission. If I'd had to ask them, it would've been…awkward. There's no way they would've let me do it."

Accepting her truth, I followed-up, "Do you have any backup meds, just in case?"

" _Just in case,_ yeah," she promised. "The ones I have are supposed to work right away. Right after… I can show them to you—if you need me to…"

"It's all right," I told her. "I trust you." When Ashley's nerves still wouldn't settle over this, I understood that there was _more_ here. "Ash, if we're going to do this, then we need to communicate. You don't have to tell me everything right this second. I still have some questions about this. I'd like you to answer me honestly. Yes or no."

Shuddering breaths, and then, "Okay… I'll be honest with you, Shepard. Go ahead…"

"This is something we can't experiment freely with," I started. "Not if I'm inside of you. If we're going to do that, then it can only be on rare occasions. And not any time soon. Can you agree with me on that?"

Ashley's face heated in her immediate pleasure from my words.

"Yes."

Well, this was definitely new for me…

"Do you need to feel me like that inside of you?"

She touched my face, leaning into my lips in such a succulent sweetness, so eager and needy in this moment, whispering through my wine-filled breath: "I need you in me, Shepard… I need you to claim me, make me yours—take the risk. I have to _know you._ I need you to come inside of me, as a woman, _as you,_ with me… I want to hear how you sound, when you finally let go like that; lose yourself so deep inside of me. And I want to hold you the entire time, unprotected. I need it like hell. I _really_ do…"

Overwhelmed by her admissions, I fought to keep myself together.

Ashley wouldn't let me break our eye contact. I couldn't let myself do it, either, unless I ceded the control and the flow of this conversation to her. This was my responsibility, to lead her… If I got caught up in the moment; if I let myself be weak, giving into these maddened thoughts I now had of doing everything she'd just said, then that would've been it for me.

She at least allowed me to be overwhelmed, leaning back, away from me, returning to where she had been before. Already, I knew she saw it in my eyes: that I did want what she'd said, no matter how new and terrifying this was for me.

I told her instead, "Okay, Ash… Okay. I'll…keep that in mind."

Ashley gave me such a kind smile, before a mass of indiscernible thoughts clouded her eyes.

She wouldn't tell me what this was about.

There seemed to be more here that I wasn't quite able to grasp.

She and I weren't on the same wavelength. Not with this subject.

Ashley _knew_ that we weren't on the same wavelength here, and so she moved on, "Aside from that…I don't think there's anything else that I _need._ Not necessarily. We can figure out the rest down the line."

I nodded, directing her, "Tell me your hard limits next. What you definitely can't stand. Non-negotiable."

Smiling in a sort of half-frown, Ashley explained, "I'm not a fan of those, um, _gross_ things. You know."

"I do know, and I agree," I stated. "We're not going there."

"Okay, good," she accepted, relieved. "I mean, I figured you weren't into them anyway. You made it clear that we have to communicate. So, I'm communicating a real, non-negotiable aversion to this! Totally not judging anyone who _is_ into it. It's just not for me…"

"Understandable, babe. What else?"

"This is gonna make me sound like a total wimp, but… I don't want you to yell at me, Shepard. When I'm in that submissive headspace, the last thing I want is for you to be mean to me like that… It brings up bad memories—like after Eden Prime, when you were pissed at me for getting caught by the beacon. And…there's more I'll tell you about soon."

"I wouldn't do that to you, Ash," I promised. "I care about you too much to harm you like that again."

Something of what I said stung her, yet she continued, "Thanks… It's different when we're in a full-blown argument. Obviously, if we're in that situation instead, you _should_ yell as much as you need to. Plus, I know I should be used to it—with the military and all. With you, things are never that simple."

"Then what _do_ you want from me? I feel like there's something you're not saying here."

Quietly, she confessed, "I want you to nurture me instead. I want you to take care of me, Shepard. This _always_ gets back to the biggest thing I need from you. I need you to be patient with me. I need you to be understanding when I'm basically self-sabotaging, saying shit I'm not supposed to. And I need you to help bail me out when I get in over my head. Not only with you. In life, in general…"

Making a point, I caressed her legs covered by this blanket, firm in my vow, "Then I'll be that for you, babe. I understand that some things are out of your control. You can rely on me like this."

Letting out a long-delayed exhale, Ashley said, "Hearing you say that…it helps. _So much._ I really love that you're such a sweetheart. And you're a lifesaver—like always."

Before I could prompt her to continue with the rest of her hard limits, she already knew what to do.

Ashley finished the last of her wine, already, and set the empty glass down on the table. She took my glass, still with some wine in it, and put it down next to hers. Pulling at my T-shirt, Ashley stood up with me, guiding me over to the couch; having me lie down on my stomach over this blanket that smelled of her. The warmth from where she'd sat before: it heated me just under my legs, relaxing me even more.

And then she settled herself on top of me, along my lower back. Not quite pressing all of her weight down on me at first, Ashley seemed overwhelmed by having me here like this. Still, she found the courage to lift up my shirt, my tank top underneath—going all the way up past my sports bra, and leaving things that way, leaving the spill of my hair off to the side, nearly down to my waist.

I folded my arms, resting my head here while she took me in like this.

Hesitant touch kneading at the strong muscles of my narrow back, I felt Ashley's mind processing how unexpected this was. Compared to her, to the decent sinew of her own body, I was way more limber than she was. Not quite fragile, though not as lean as she was in trained fitness, I must have seemed comparatively small next to her. Of course, my height over her made up for things—and we had different specializations—but I really was a glass cannon in the face of her relative sturdiness.

Ashley chose to delay the last of her hard limits, saying instead, "Tell me what you want, Shepard. Tell me what you need. Tell me how I can give it to you, and when."

"Ash, in this sense, I'm a very simple person. I want to give you what you want. That's all."

Curious in darkness, she asked, "And what if I want something you've never done before? What then?"

"Hmm, it depends," I mused. "Ask me and we'll talk about it. Where are you going with this?"

Sensing Ashley's intentions through her touch, I had my answers: how her hands had lost that hesitation from earlier, growing firmer and firmer by the second. She found her surprises here. She found her novelty here. She found her own answers here, in this sight of the skin over my back soaking in the light of the TV, in the ambiance of the blue around us, and in the heat of her abject fascination with me.

She continued along this line, "So, it's true then? No one's ever eaten you out? Fucked you?"

Still oddly relaxed, I replied, "That's right."

Ashley understood the implications here, and controlled herself accordingly.

"What about me, Shepard?" she needed to know, so bold in her darkened edge. "Do you think about letting me give that to you? Does it ever cross your mind?"

I closed my eyes, thinking back to her vid messages specifically about this, and said, "You're the first person I've ever considered this with. The only person. But not everything you said."

"What _don't_ you want, then?"

"Unless it's for a blowjob, I don't like the idea of having your mouth in between me like that. I've never liked it. Maybe someday. I can't force it to happen any sooner."

Ashley leaned her touch into me, harder, steadying herself against me like this. Stretching in place, she let her mind open to the possibilities of my permission. She did it more over the way I didn't react to her, aloof in my methods so unintentional, in making her want me more simply by giving her nothing.

But she needed me to paint a full picture—the entire picture in all its shades and shadows, at all costs.

She pressed onward, "What about my hands? What if I touched you there, took you for myself? Would you let me do it?"

Unmoved, unimpressed: "Again, that's not really my thing. You're getting warmer, though…"

Ashley couldn't quite keep herself from whining low in her throat, before asking, "Then what if…what if I took off your clothes? Could you do that with me?"

" _At minimum,_ I'm not taking off my tank top, and I'm not letting you anywhere near me unless we're in a bed, underneath a comforter. And if I'm the one fucking you, I'm leaving my boxer briefs on. You're getting colder now, Ashley. You should be able to tell these things about me by now."

Moaning over my denials, Ashley lowered herself against me completely. She clutched at my shoulders, at the toned shape of my arms, down to my hips, and my legs that she could reach of me. And even though I loved this feeling of her weight and her heated presence fully on top of me like this, I wasn't about to let her know that. Not directly.

" _Fuck,_ you're such a tease," she groused. "Reminds me of your pictures, your runways… How you're always so confident that everyone's going crazy from just… _looking_ at you. Wanting you. You're so beautiful and stylish—how could _anyone_ look at you and _not_ want to please you? And maybe you enjoy it, but you won't admit that. It's all part of what makes you so special. Your sex appeal is unreal."

"Well, I _do_ like that you want me this much," I told her. "Even if I don't show it. This is new for me."

"But Shepard, you're so powerful… Why do you think about this with me? What's your angle here?"

"Because I know you're hard-headed enough to push me, to overwhelm me. Given the chance, you won't hesitate. You won't falter in front of me; treat me like I'm some porcelain doll. You'll go for it. And if you're gonna do it, then it had better be hard and fast. Don't give me a chance to escape from you. I know you're just the type to want to do that. You're possessive of me in that exact way."

Ashley let herself laugh, burrowed as her face was along the curve of my neck. "That's…perfectly true. You're right. _You get me!"_ Pressing her grin against my skin, she chose to open up about the rest: "There's something else, though… When I think about this with you, it's never…an _equal_ thing. There's still a power dynamic. You're still stronger than me. I'm just…trying to prove myself to you."

"Yeah, I figured," I revealed. "That's why I like this with you and only you. You get me, too."

"But there's one last thing," noted Ashley. "There's always something. Something in the way. Something bringing me back down to our painful reality." Collecting herself first, she then told me, "I wouldn't say this is a _hard limit,_ Shepard. It's just what I want, what I need. If I'm going to be vulnerable with you like this, then I need you to be faithful. I have to know that you're with me. And I only want to be with you. I can't share you with anyone else. Not with this dynamic. Not with how much I want from you."

A bit drugged from how exposed she was, emotionally, I could only say, "I understand."

" _Do you?"_ she questioned. "When we started this thing, I told you I wouldn't try to take you away from Liara. I would never force you to choose between us. I would never ask you to leave her side…"

"Ashley, I knew from day one that you didn't intend to keep that promise forever."

She couldn't even hide her mischievous smile over getting caught like this.

"Then…why'd you agree to it?" she wondered. "Why did you seem to take me at my word?"

"Because you were bold enough to play this game in the first place. In your own way at the time, you were confident that you'd win me over. I respected that, deep down."

Too realistic: "We still have this issue, though. You want her, Shepard. Maybe you…maybe you even love her—I don't know. I want you to get this out of your system. Whatever it takes."

I held my pain back, asking her, "Is this an ultimatum? You're asking me to go have sex with her before you'll be in a relationship with me?"

"Not an ultimatum… I don't expect you to fuck her _before_ I tell you yes. You should do it eventually."

"Ash, if I just go up to Liara and ask for sex, she'll know I'm up to something…"

"Then spend time with her," allowed Ashley. "Get to know her again. _Then_ fuck her. Whatever. I only want you to see how you feel once you do it. You can't keep running away from this. Because if you do, you'll never know what could've been. I don't want that to haunt you. At the same time, I can't help feeling like something terrible will happen if you do this… Like you'll fall for her all the way."

That was…a real possibility. Then again, it had probably already happened, and I just hadn't noticed yet.

Ashley didn't need me to say the words.

Holding herself together well enough, as if she'd prepared for this, she stood up. She took a few paces forward, enough to meet me here at the corner, the bend of my couch. From where I sat, looking up at her, I couldn't read her. I couldn't know what to do, just from feeling her, from sensing her like I normally could have before.

"Shepard, I'm sick of arguing with you over her," she said, level-headed. "I'm sick of feeling insecure over her. I'm sick of losing my mind all because you didn't put me first, way before it was even fair of me to expect you to do it. When you asked me out, it helped me come to terms with things. I accept the situation for what it is. I trust you now. You have my heart…but I don't have yours. And it hurts."

"Ash, I'm sorry," I expressed. "You're right. I wish I hadn't hurt you like this…without knowing."

Enough coldness in her eyes, enough monotone through her rich, textured voice, "Then you two have unfinished business… Go finish it."

Right as she started walking away from me, I held her hand.

Ashley stopped with my hold.

She wouldn't face me.

I tried to stand up, until she said—"Don't, Shepard. It isn't _fair_. You're wearing a strap-on right now, and…and if you try to hold me from behind, I'll feel you again. I'll lose control this time. I'll give in to you. I can't let myself do that tonight. So just say what you need to say to me."

"Ashley, I appreciate everything you've told me," I began. "I don't want us to end things on this bad note. Not like this. Today of all days, I can't let us be in another fight."

"Oh, I plan on spending plenty of time with you later on. Don't worry about that. And after what I've _told you_ , I'm definitely not letting you go. I'm not going anywhere. I just can't spend the night with you."

Caressing her hand in mine, I asked, "Why not?"

"It's the same issue… We haven't slept in a bed together since our dream. I know I'll have sex with you if I do. I don't want to lose my virginity to you in a bed, Shepard. I need something more exciting than that. I'm not in the mood to experiment right now. So we're going to have to sleep separately. I need my space."

"All right," I respected.

Expectant in mild petulance, in veiled need: "Say what you have to say to me so I can go to sleep."

Her hand, her fingers, so lithe and shapely, and thin, and round right at her tips, letting her natural nails jut out in shortness, so perfect in this soft touch of hers.

This wasn't fair for me at all, yet I loved _the way_ Ashley expected perfection from me.

So I expressed myself to her: "When I first saw you on Eden Prime, I didn't know my life would change. I had a feeling you were special, Ash. I sensed everything you wanted with me…and I ran away from it. I can never erase that mistake. I can never justify why I was so closed-off, set in my ways. Maybe I was scared to admit that I'd found something I had been looking for my whole life. I'm admitting it now."

I felt how much Ashley wanted to turn around, to forget all about our fight and kiss me already.

But I felt her restraint tying her up twice as much, as she had learned to do from me.

"I love you, Shepard," she said instead, walking away and out of my hold. "Good night."

Her absence in my hand as a phantom limb—"Good night, babe… I'm sorry."

Once she left the room, I fell right back into that fiery pain she had disturbed me from earlier.

Not necessarily because she left.

But because I still felt her here, even though she was gone.

Pulling the red of this blanket closer to me, I sat here for a while, feeling these emotions Ashley had left behind. The more I felt them, the more they made me question if my intuition still worked properly. I could have sworn I sensed something far darker than Ashley had let on or even alluded to…aside from that coldness in her eyes, that monotone she had given me. That coldness, that monotone rose higher, co-opting her smell of roses and vanilla, and twisting that non-vanilla talk we'd had into the silhouette of her absolute need of me.

Deeper than any ocean, thicker than any blood, I couldn't deny Ashley's ruthlessness… _again_ , that she had learned from me, as her…father-figure.

And now I had unlocked her in how much she trusted me.

Not knowing what else to do, I went back to bed, leaving this blanket behind.

Embraced again in this reminder of Liara's presence here between my sheets, I could admit to myself:

She and Ashley _both_ scared the hell out of me.

But it was this memory of Liara that helped soothe me from this, even as much as she terrified me. Thinking of her brought me back down, kept me from shaking, crying. Letting myself feel for her again was like a salve over these wounds from Ashley constantly ramming against my head and my heart, from Ashley continuously throwing me in this damned incinerator and expecting me to survive.

Still, I knew I fucked up. I had fucked all of this up. I should've stayed away from both of them—or at least one of them. I should have resisted their temptations. I shouldn't have been selfish, and weak, giving into them like this. If I had stayed strong like I was used to, then none of this would've happened.

Now, I was exposed like this…

Now, I wished I could've had Liara's arms around me again.

I couldn't hate her anymore. I couldn't stay angry at her anymore. I couldn't keep pretending that I felt nothing for her; that I didn't need her like this. Because she had sustained me, even after all this time.

Because if she really did give up on us, and our date was only a final talk, then I would've lost her.

If Liara had given up on me, what then…? What about our bond? Would she let it go? Was it too late…?

I felt like a fucking kid again, afraid and abandoned after I'd lost everyone and everything— _again._

And whatever depths I had fallen into in this bloody water, it was too late for me to come up for air.

* * *

_From: Anderson, Captain – Happy Birthday, Commander._

_Shepard,_

_I know you're on shore leave right now on Thessia. I would have loved to be there with you, for your birthday and for the mission. Duty calls here on the Citadel._

_I figured I'd send you a quick line or two instead. The big 3-0. Time sure does fly, doesn't it?_

_Wasn't too long ago you were still that stubborn young woman, angry at the world, the galaxy—and for good reason. I'm happy to see you've cooled down over the years. These past few months included. Have you taken my words to heart from my letter, from after you became a Spectre? I believe you have. It's done wonders._

_Going by our email exchanges about your progress with the mission, and your visits to me here on the Citadel, I can tell you've gone through some positive changes. I don't sense that same, impossible edge about you. But you're not completely different, either. Seems like you've finally found a good balance._

_I don't expect you to go soft on me, though. Tough-as-nails, but still sympathetic and understanding. I hope this commander sticks around for a while. Longer than a while._

_Have a good one today. You've earned it._

_-Anderson_

.

_From: Vakarian, Garrus – Birthday message._

_Commander,_

_Sorry if this is a little weird. We (the team) all agreed to write up some birthday messages to you. If you get everything at once a few hours after midnight, that's on purpose. We're having a party here at Liara's place. I suggested we schedule our emails to get to you at a certain time, in case we're kind of indisposed when the hour hits. You know…_

_I just wanted to say, Shepard, it's been an honor serving with you on the mission so far. Getting things done without all that red tape from C-Sec has been liberating. I finally feel like I'm making a difference out there. I have you to thank for that._

_I know I'm not the most talkative member on the team. And I haven't been the best at asking for your time, even though you left the offer open. I hope you haven't taken it to mean that I respect you any less. I value you as my superior officer, and maybe as an accidental mentor. I really do look up to you in a way that I find hard to express in-person. You've opened my eyes, changed my thinking in a lot of ways; made me less cynical about believing in the fight for justice and fairness. You've taught me that we have to keep fighting for what we believe in, no matter how bleak things look. You never give up on whatever you set your mind to, so I shouldn't, either._

_For the record, I fully support anything you care about. Anyone you care about. Let's just say it's another inspiration to me. I wish I was better at actually saying these things out loud. I'm trying to work up the courage to tell her about this myself. It's not going so well. Not sure how she'll react, if she'll think it's strange or out-of-place. I should find a way to break the ice anyway._

_Maybe we'll get to see you today, spend some time together, even indirectly. Would be nice to kick back with you around, for a change._

_-Garrus_

.

_From: Ashley — Your birthday._

_Skipper,_

_Garrus said he would be the one to tell you about our timing thing. I wanted to give some extra context for when I'm writing this._

_I'm waiting for you to call me back right now. I kind of hung up in your face while we were arguing. Twice in a row. Not the best start to your birthday, I know…_

_It's your special day today, and I'm sitting here alone in this guest room in this gigantic mansion, wishing I could take everything back. Everything I said. Everything that spilled out without me meaning to say it. All the stupid accusations, all the pointless jabs I made at you. Even from before today. I mean, you asked me out, as a dream come true for me, and then I made this huge mess. I hate that I can't just shut my mouth when I need to do it most. Shut up and listen. Shut up and apologize._

_I already know when you call me again, if you do, my pride's going to come right back up. I wish I could shut this off, set it aside._

_Sending myself those love letters and poetry meant for you, hoping you'd find them through my work email. Hoping you'd see them, somehow, by chance, without me knowing. Hoping that my words would move you somehow. Hoping you would take that next step, start a conversation with me, get to know me, take me out on the Citadel, and maybe even fall for me…all of that. I wanted it to be special for us. I wanted to have that realistic fantasy with you. I wanted to have that star-crossed love affair with you, where you chose to be with me anyway, taking that risk even with the regulations in the way. Risk getting in trouble with the Alliance. I wanted you to risk it all for me._

_I wanted to be your one and only. I still want that. More than anything._

_I'm so forward with everything else. Sometimes, with this, you turn me into someone I don't recognize. Not on purpose._

_I admire you so much. It's like I could lift you to the skies myself if you'd let me. Up to the heavens. Even way beyond that, whatever's out there._

_That's how much I love you, Shepard. And I'm sorry. I'm sorry for being such an ass._

_I'm hoping and waiting for you to call me back soon._

_Hoping you can forgive me, too._

_-Ash_

.

_From: Chakwas, Karin — Birthday Greetings._

_Shepard,_

_What a wonderful day today is. Happy Birthday, Commander. Thirty years old! I can hardly believe it._

_I won't bore you with anything long-winded or emotional. I simply wanted you to know how proud I am of you. You've come a long way over these months since I was first assigned to the Normandy with you and Captain Anderson. I am glad that you're no longer resistant to having a full conversation with me about your health._

_I must say, Commander, you have also improved in other ways. After our initial discussion about my theory on the collective unconscious, I have kept a close watch on your progress. I am not certain how I know this, but your mind appears to be greatly fortified in comparison to when we first met. Your will seems to be exponentially stronger than it was when you interacted with the beacon on Eden Prime. If your mind could withstand that kind of punishment back then, I can only imagine what you are capable of handling these days._

_Enjoy your time with the team on shore leave. I will be here at the local medical university picking up what I can on the asari's practices, in case any of it proves to be useful to our operation. Should you need anything, you will know how to reach me. Do try to keep the others from going overboard with their alcohol intakes, if at all possible._

_-Dr. Chakwas_

.

_From: Urdnot Wrex – Shepard Day._

_Shepard,_

_I suck at writing things. I'll keep this nice and neat for you._

_Wanted to say Happy Shepard Day. The real custom makes me sad. Krogan don't celebrate birthdays._

_Made an exception. I follow you, respect you._

_We're warriors. Keep kicking ass, Shepard. Even if no one can see you while you do it. You find your own glory, your own way._

_-Wrex_

.

_From: Alenko, Lieutenant — Happy Birthday._

_Commander,_

_Thanks again for the pep talk earlier. You did me a solid._

_I wonder how excited you are for your birthday today. Probably not at all, huh? I can't really see you as the celebrating type. I'm sure you'd be just fine hiding out in your private quarters with your video games, as usual. Just a regular old day for you._

_If I'm honest, I'm at a loss for what else to say here. Kind of intimidating, sending you a Happy Birthday message. I don't expect you to respond or anything._

_And maybe this is too forward, but I'm glad that Ash isn't hurting anymore. You know, from your distance. I tried to do what I could for her, back when the others weren't speaking to her. Made things a little awkward with Liara, knowing that she liked you, too. I had to keep my distance from her. Didn't want to overstep my boundaries. With those types of feelings involved, I knew I had to make a choice, pick a side. I chose Ash because I knew you'd see one day that she's worth it._

_She's more than what people assume about her. She's flawed, but we all are, and she wants to do better, every day. She's just a little more upfront about her imperfections; she won't apologize for them._

_I was right about her way back when, wasn't I?_

_-Kaidan_

.

_From: Tali'Zorah – Your birthday today._

_Shepard,_

_Now that it's your birthday, I see the age difference between us in solar years. You're thirty. I'm twenty-two. You are eight years older than me. That's quite a lot, isn't it?_

_I wanted to tell you how happy I am that we're actually friends now. You make me believe in something more than what I had grown used to in my short life so far. Like I can finally think for myself for a change, and not feel as guilty about it anymore. I can be my own person while still wanting to help my people in whatever way I can._

_You taught me that the galaxy is definitely a hard place. But if I look closely enough, there is still plenty of kind, caring, and sensitive warmth under that hard exterior. I will be sure to let my old ship captain know about this change in my perspective, once I present the Flotilla with the gift you gave me for my Pilgrimage._

_I will always be here for you, Shepard. I somehow feel stronger in making this choice to stand by you, no matter what. I'm glad to be here with you on this team._

_-Tali_

.

_From: Moreau, Flight Lieutenant – Fun times!_

_Commander,_

_Awesome stuff—you're thirty years old now. Who cares what people say about that age? To me, it's like you're just getting started in life. How do I know this? I just do!_

_Kind of creeps me out that I'm actually sending a normal message to you. You know, not about work. Not that I'm convinced we're friends or anything, even though I want us to be. You keep your distance. I respect that. Mostly, anyway. Wouldn't mind getting to hang out with you today._

_By the way, I'm trying to figure out if I should drop a MAJOR hint about something. If you know that I know what you're thinking, then go for it already. It'll be epic!_

_And I know better than to risk asking for pictures or whatever. That would be dumb of me. Sure keeps me smiling. But not for those, uh, reasons. I want you to be happy, and I want her to be happy with you. Yeah, she's a tough one. So are you. I get the feeling you make her all weak in the knees from how smooth and serious you are. I guess it's sweet…_

_Just don't tell anyone I said that. I can't be all sensitive, otherwise my mask will come right off. That wouldn't be a pretty sight._

_-Joker_

.

_From: Liara – This morning._

_Shepard,_

_I hope that you are able to read this before you meet me in a few hours._

_Yesterday, there was more I wished to tell you about our date. I held back—because the others were nearby, because Ashley watched us from the kitchen behind you. Because I was afraid that, if I mentioned this, you would decline my offer outright. I understand that now is not the time to hesitate any longer. So please allow me to be frank in this message. And please excuse the length. There is much that I have not been able to say to you over these three agonizing months. I must say it now—or never._

_I see your frustrations, Shepard. Do you believe that I gave up on you? On us? Do you feel that I simply stepped aside, ceding victory to Ashley in this game between the three of us? Or did you convince yourself that I am more in love with my problems than I am with you? Anything to keep yourself from thinking about me again. Anything to help you run away from how you still feel for me, after all this time._

_I want you to know now that none of those things are true._

_Perhaps it was easier for you to believe those lies. It was more immediate for you to find ample validation in the way Ashley chases after you with such restless vigor. It was more convenient for you to discard me, and pretend as if you could leave me behind at the "drop of a dime," as you humans say._

_I wanted to give you time. I wanted to know if you were only pretending, or if you had truly moved on._

_I found my answer not that long ago, while we were on the Citadel. I believe you purchased a bottle of something to drink. Something you would not show to anyone else, not even when Wrex had inquired._

_Our bond began to reignite that day. I could finally feel you, like a light turning back on in the darkness._

_And then, early this morning, everything transcended, as a sheer ocean flooding past your barriers._

_I recognize now that you don't enjoy me prodding around in your mind, in your 'fucking' feelings. You don't wish for me to micromanage. And so I am writing this to you, instead of merely communicating without words, privately, in the way I had done before. At the same time, however, I know that you would rather not give your own words to me. You will run from the worst of those words, from the truth._

_Deep down, suppressed, I know—you will always hate that I didn't fight for you._

_Just as you hated the way I crushed Ashley's heart in my attempt to keep her away from you._

_You despise me for this: less so for my hasty mistake, and more so now for not fighting to keep you._

_But you must know by now that that is not my way. Have you forgotten that we are from two different species? As Ashley has proven over and over again, humans are high-strung, impatient. Even reckless at times. You live for the moment. I must take the long view in life, as most asari are prone to do. Fighting for the short-term is too often unwise and extreme. I will_ _only_ _take that path if I see no other option._

_Giving you time was the best option. You have found a small measure of peace with me in my absence._

_If you would like to stop running away from me, Shepard, you are free to do so, beginning today._

_I have more to offer you than the stress you have been subjected to over these months. Far more. So much more, with the opportunity for you to explore something far deeper with me than we have ever known. Something so much better than the petty issues we have been mired in throughout this time._

_Do what you will with Ashley. As long as she does not hurt either of us too much, I will not intervene in your relationship._

_With that in mind, if you decide to stop running, to stop pretending, and to stop lying to yourself, then make yourself clear to me. Be honest in your intentions with me this morning. Open yourself to the possibility that you may have acted in error over these past few months. You are not always right._

_Do this for me—for us—and I will shift the mood for our date as you desire._

_Or don't, and continue running._

_Make your choice, and meet me at seven o'clock in my mother's living room—not a moment later._

_-Liara_

* * *

Early morning light shone in through the full panes of the sliding glass doors here in Liara's living room.

Beyond that glass, the gleam of the green grass reflected back in here to me, warming me to the reality of the day, and thawing me from the ice cold of the night I'd suffered through, barely able to sleep.

Anderson's email had helped before, initially, and I had been glad to reply to him. Everyone else's emails had surprised me, too. Really surprised me, since I hadn't expected that kind of sentimentality from them at all. I did write back what I could to them anyway, before I got here _—_ except for Liara, since my presence here spoke enough as it was. Though the rest of the team's not-so-subtle hints, and their more direct thoughts and well-wishes stayed on my mind. Most of them had encouraged me to do one thing, and yet here I was, facing something else instead.

Ashley had sent me another email, separate from the normal birthday one I got from her around the same time as everyone else. I'd chosen to ignore it, not wanting to face her right now, even through a screen. Her confessions to me in her 'normal' email had already reached at something in me I couldn't describe. But, again, I didn't want to dwell on that, didn't want to linger on it just yet.

And now, the rest of the day started to kick in.

High above along one of the walls, a gigantic clock there read 7:00am, seconds ticking forward and on.

Here on this level, illuminated by the sunlight, Liara shuffled back and forth between the living room and the kitchen. Wearing a fitted lab coat of blue and white that suited her body and her intelligence quite well, Liara collected the various shot glasses, tequila bottles, slices of lime, and salt packets that had littered the coffee table by the television. She worked to clean the faint mess the others had left behind from their not-so-rowdy and rather respectful night, not having torn up the place all that much.

Still, Joker had crashed on the couch, and Wrex snored heavily as he lay face-first on the floor nearby.

I assumed that Tali, Kaidan, and Garrus had all found their way to their own guest rooms, at least.

_And…_

And I saw that patience there in Liara's eyes and in her movements as she cleaned, accepting that the team had chosen to honor her requests for order and cleanliness—as much as possible, anyway.

I would have offered to help.

 _I should have_ , but I couldn't push back this feeling.

This feeling that someone watched me in that moment; that someone watched Liara as well.

Liara must've had the same feeling, because she tempered her movements, going at a slower pace than she normally would have.

I couldn't shake this feeling off, no matter how hard I tried, like a phantom heating the back of my head.

Glancing over to Joker and Wrex, and the handful of heavy alcohol bottles and shot glasses still on the table, I knew I couldn't keep standing here like this. I went over to the coffee table, of the mind to at least get the bottles over to the kitchen with the rest of the team's drinks.

Liara found me here soon after, pupils dilating as her eyes took me in, took in my intentions for this day.

"Good morning, Shepard," she greeted with a faint smile. "Thank you for joining me."

"Yeah, of course," I said, grabbing those heavy bottles for her. "Where do you want these?"

Taking the last of the shot glasses with her, Liara guided me to the kitchen. "Just through here."

The team had amassed quite a war chest of cognacs, more tequila, and several other bottles of room-temperature alcohol, keeping them on the counter next to the sink. I set these bottles down here, grouping them as needed, like chess pieces. I needed to stay organized, even though none of this alcohol was mine. I did this as Liara washed off the glasses near me. She looked over at my scrutinizing, at my attention to detail, smiling at me in fondness as she finished the last of this cleaning.

I knew that everyone was bound to mess up my efforts before the day was over.

This was really an excuse to double and triple-check that this abnormal feeling hadn't gone away.

It seriously still felt like someone watched us from somewhere, somehow.

Once we finished with this, Liara showed me out the sliding glass doors, out to that park. Finally escaping the sounds of Wrex's snoring, the peace from the morning found us instead.

Only a small measure before, this peace and harmony helped to soothe me, more.

So unlike Earth, the mornings here on Thessia looked like the afternoons, the evenings. But there was a softness about this sunlight instead, reddening the grass and the spread-out trees as vermillion as Liara walked by my side. Not a soul around for acres—aside from this phantom _feeling_ —we could have gotten lost here together. We could have lost our way, if Liara didn't know exactly where to go. We could have, if she didn't know exactly what she was doing; if she didn't have this solid grasp on her own intentions.

Whatever our intentions were, and whatever this phantom was, all of that came second to this serenity.

And neither of us dared to turn around, to spot our disruptor.

Right now, it couldn't matter.

I'd had no idea how much I needed this moment with Liara, pressing this reset button with her.

She had us stop at a specific spot in the grass, shadowed in the shade of what looked like an elder tree.

Liara leaned against this tree with leaves of red, staring at that spot.

I wondered, "Is there something here?"

"Yes," she said, smiling in nostalgia. "This is where it all began. Where I first found my obsessions that led me to you. When I was a child, I would dig for ruins here in the grass. Right here, in this exact place. My mother gave me such a lecture when she discovered what I had done… But, she did buy me my first history book the next day. I will always appreciate her for that, however temporary it may have been."

I remembered that shot I had taken on Noveria, straight through Benezia's heart.

Still, I asked, "Do you miss her at all?"

Liara's eyes shined and glistened in such an emotional expanse of heavenly blue, making me ache for her.

"I do," she admitted. "I miss her, Shepard."

Leaning next to her on this tree, close to her, I wanted to know, "What was she like? You know…"

"She loved to wear yellow," reminisced Liara. "I thought she was the most beautiful woman in the world. She was once kind and compassionate. Very understanding. Committed to her work. Committed to protecting me from… _everything._ Even from myself."

"How've you been dealing with this? With not having her here anymore."

"I have come to terms with my demons, Shepard. And I have accepted my own need to protect and to control, within reason. Sometimes, without. Or at least—not entirely justified ones. The fact remains that I am my mother's daughter. There are certain traits and habits I have inherited from her. Traits and habits that I have since stopped fighting, and learned to embrace. No matter what the future holds, I must be true to myself…despite how terrified I am to stare back into this mirror without you."

"What do you mean, Liara? What's _there_ in that mirror that you can't face unless I'm here?"

Liara gave me another sad smile, just like from yesterday. "I am not entirely sure myself," she lamented. "It returns me to the same place that I had repressed many years ago. And… _this place:_ it is the peak of my worst fears. It is what I attempted to avoid with our arrangement together. I tried to deny it."

I reminded her, "Aren't you the one always telling me to stop running? Running from my feelings?"

"I know," she accepted. "Perhaps it was projection. I'm sorry for that."

"You know, Liara, you really are a walking contradiction sometimes."

This time, she smiled in reality and in warmth, as I needed. "Just as you are a walking allegory."

"An allegory?" I questioned. _"A metaphor?_ A metaphor for what?"

Liara giggled a bit. "You are what you practice, Shepard," she riddled, again. "You are what you know. And I understand now that you could not possibly know what I see, despite how intuitive you are. I suppose there are some things that extend even beyond our bond. We seem to be creating our own collective unconscious together as we go, making things up along the way. Doesn't this bother you?"

"I guess it does. I'd rather be prepared. Know what I'm doing, what I'm up against."

"That is natural to feel," guided Liara. "I would like to open you to the possibility that there is more. Far more out there, past the boundaries of our own mortal understanding. This is something we could never prepare for. But now that our bond is uninterrupted once more, we can continue on together. I can assure you, there is a much deeper layer that you've not yet accessed with me."

"We got pretty deep before," I recalled. "You're telling me there's more?"

"Yes, Shepard. There is more. Come with me, and I will show you some of what I mean."

* * *

About a twenty minute walk through the proper city of Armali itself, and Liara led me up to what looked like a tall, winged temple overlooking the metropolis. She'd had us take a route to help shake off our disruptor—at least for now. And so Liara let me hold her hand—so delicate in mine—as we passed through here, passed through this walkway of shallow water glistening in the pale red sunlight, holding our footsteps in its rippling. I couldn't even mind the hem of my jeans getting damp and darkened as I crossed this space with the ridges of my heavy black boots. I enjoyed being here, being in this moment.

I found Liara gazing at the white of my plain, long-sleeved shirt, enjoying the way the sun embraced the cotton of me. She stared at the flow of my hair down behind me, too—not quite so sunny and golden here on Thessia, living under this perpetual vermillion.

I let myself smile over this, over the view of the city's skyscrapers piercing upward in the near distance; over everything, even all that we couldn't yet sense.

Once I spotted the barriers of security over the temple's entrance, I assumed that we would just stand out here for a bit while Liara explained what was inside the building.

Silver and violet everywhere, otherworldly in the significance there: I could kind of see some of the interior, fluting upward in its architecture, with the main centerpiece of a goddess standing tall and high in the very middle. I saw a number of statues and artifacts circling the perimeter, too, with a bunch of benches lined up facing the goddess, and an unobstructed aisle running right down the middle.

Liara went up to the security barriers, disabling them with her omni-tool.

I had to make sure, "Looks like government-level security here. You're allowed in this place?"

"No, actually," said Liara, pulling me inside with her by my hand. "We should not stay here for too long. We would suffer grave consequences should Asari High Command somehow discover us here. But this temple is far too important for us to play things safe. I must have this discussion with you here."

"All right, that's fine," I accepted, watching as she put the barriers back up behind us. "I don't mind getting into a little trouble with you."

Liara laughed softly. "You believe _grave consequences_ will merely add up to a little trouble, then?"

"I'm up for whatever, Liara," I said instead, grinning. "I could always lean on my Spectre status to bail us out. Then again, I have to wonder how it is you have access here if you're not allowed inside."

"I found the access codes among my mother's many belongings at home… I thought that she might have fortified the codes with several layers of encryption instead. Benezia secured her information in a way that ensured only I would be able to find and read her secrets. It is safe to say that I learned far more than what I bargained for—and not just these codes. Let us sit first, and I will tell you the rest."

We headed down the center aisle together, with the goddess towering over us up ahead.

The closer we neared her, reaching the front row bench, on the left side, the more I felt like there was…

"There's something here," I noted, letting Liara sit down first. "In that statue. Do you sense it, too?"

"Yes, I do," she said. "I am not entirely sure _what_ is there. Only that something does exist in this place." Liara tugged on my hand a bit. "Sit with me, Shepard. Allow me to explain what I know for certain."

I did so, sitting at the very edge of the bench, near the aisle. I kept her hand in mine, knowing that we were safe here, at least as much as our follower could look through and spot our backs.

Liara stared up at that statue, this art in deception as it sheltered a familiar pulsing and understanding.

"This is the Temple of Athame," began Liara. "And Athame Herself is the goddess of prophecy and fate. She is from a very old religion, as you can see. This religion has fallen out of favor with the asari, somewhat. We may reference it at times in saying things like _by the goddess._ But it is only tangential at best. I never meant anything by it whenever I would use the expression myself."

I remembered, "You think this has something to do with what Shiala told us? And Benezia?"

"Yes, I believe so. I am not entirely clear on the details of their mystic clues, however. Whatever the case is, there is a reason why I am able to sense what you also sense here. I must have acquired a Cipher of my own, one that helps me understand the Protheans intrinsically as you do."

"Shiala mentioned a Cipher, too… A second one, different from mine. Yours sounds way more advanced than mine, or at least—not quite the same. This must be the potential your mother talked about."

"It _is_ different," settled Liara. "And I have finally seized this potential, now that I have stopped hesitating with you; now that our bond is true. As for where this came from: Benezia had a collection of writings passed down through generations of matriarchs in our family. This collection is titled _Requiem of the Goddess._ I presume it means the death of an idea, or a belief, rather than a literal goddess."

"That sounds…ominous. What'd you find out?"

Staring up at Athame again, Liara explained: "This statue is a lie, Shepard. This artwork, this deification, these beliefs…they are all lies. Athame _looks like_ an asari. She is no such thing. Our gods across all asari religions are Protheans. I have dedicated my life to studying the Protheans, and not once had I come across any information about this. These secrets are classified at the highest levels of asari government."

"You mean Asari High Command _knows?"_ I asked. "They know this, and they're purposely keeping it all a secret from the galaxy?"

"Yes…this sadly explains why we asari are so advanced compared to other species. It is not by any true merit of our own… We had ample assistance from the Protheans, first, when they arrived to Thessia during the Reaper invasion in their time. They uplifted my ancestors, teaching us everything they knew. They gave us the gift of biotics, of agriculture, of knowledge… All that we are is because of them."

"But…" I ran through all the information I _thought_ I knew about the asari. "But how—is that possible? How could your people be so reliant on all this knowledge, without anyone finding out? Why wouldn't the Protheans _want_ your species to worship them with the truth?"

"I cannot know for certain," said Liara, disappointed. "They left no records of their thinking on this. However, I did mention that they uplifted us in the middle of their war against the Reapers, when that war had not reached us here on Thessia. It is possible that the Protheans knew they would fall to the war. It is likely that they did not wish for my ancestors to become entirely reliant on them. We could not have sustained ourselves otherwise."

"So, this Cipher you have—Shiala said it's from you studying the Protheans for all these years. I guess, absorbing their experiences through sheer osmosis. Do your colleagues have something like this?"

"That _is_ possible," replied Liara. "Unfortunately, theirs would only go to waste, _if_ they had one. Mine is useful because I have come into contact with you, Shepard. Or, at least, someone like you. Someone who has also been touched by the Protheans, by their experiences. Someone whose mind can withstand the deep resistances any normal person would face when coming into contact with those experiences."

Everything made sense: "Then…this is how you're able to protect my mind. Protect me from indoctrination, from outside influences. This has to be why Saren was so obsessed with capturing you back then. He could've used you to keep himself from getting indoctrinated by Sovereign."

"Yes, I think that's correct."

"Okay, but—how are you able to keep me safe from something like the Thorian? That thing was thousands of years old. It was around even _before_ the Protheans. Why would Saren think this Cipher of yours is powerful enough to protect him from a _Reaper?_ Do you even know how crazy that sounds…?"

Liara gave me her thoughts, "Like the bond we share, much of these answers are known unknowns. Perhaps many unknown unknowns as well—things that we cannot possibly fathom on our own. They are unconscious. Though I do have a solid source for you to read over: it is what I discovered on Therum when you found me that day. I did not understand it at the time, and unfortunately, the text is incomplete. But, before that, I would like to give you something else first. It is related to the answers you need."

Reaching into one of the pockets of her lab coat, Liara pulled out what looked like…a photograph.

An actual picture in her hands, printed and laminated:

And it was of…us. The two of us, Liara and me, standing together on the Presidium not that long ago. The clear blue of the artificial sky above and of the waterways behind us, the specs of skycars flying by up above, and the perpetual white of the scenic buildings everywhere, in such harmony and peace—

In the photo, I looked down at Liara next to me, giving her what I remembered was an unintentional smile, easygoing. And Liara looked right back up at me, giving me a serene smile of her own: the same one that I had always loved her for, and still loved to this day…

And in the picture, I had my arms folded—a little guarded—but in my hand, I had that bottle in a bag.

That bottle of Blue Thessia mix, from the day I'd had those latent regrets come back up to the surface, about how Liara hadn't fully given herself to me…how I'd walked away from that chance.

Liara gave me that same smile, setting the picture in my hands. "Happy Birthday, Shepard."

She'd said our bond had started to reignite that day.

Was it only a coincidence that _someone_ had taken this photograph of us, on that specific day?

"Liara, this is…something else," I breathed out. "Who took this? And why didn't I notice?"

"Tali did, in secret," she told me. "She noticed us there and saw the perfect frame. I also noticed her taking the photo with her omni-tool, and waited to ask her about it later. I then requested a copy for you. She has a wonderful eye for photography. I would not be surprised if she has taken more of these. Though I will also be sure to send you the digital copy, should anything happen to this one."

I wasn't usually sentimental, but… "Thanks for this, Liara. I really…appreciate it."

Liara beamed at me. "I am glad you approve," she expressed. "There is more on the back. It is a copy of the Prothean text I discussed before." I turned the picture around, finding a foreign language written here beneath the lamination. "Are you able to decipher the words there?"

"Yeah, sort of," I replied, struggling to match the letters in the right order. "…Liara, there's no way. Is this about—power plays? Dominance, and submission? _One mind, one master_. Ruling over someone's mind in that intimate way, as if it could keep them safe from anyone else indoctrinating them…? It looks like this process really is enough to protect someone from a Reaper taking over their mind. As long as they have their single master protecting them, secured, then absolutely nothing else can get past them."

"Yes, Shepard," confirmed Liara. "According to my mother's classified writings, this is how the Protheans tried to resist Reaper indoctrination as well. It would appear that they have passed that knowledge down through several generations, including to my ancestors when the Protheans uplifted us. This seemed to be their most reliable way of avoiding indoctrination entirely, which helped them to wage their decades-long war against the Reapers. But, of course, they lost to sheer attrition in the end…"

"And now you passed that knowledge on to me…? How? _When?"_

Liara reminded me: "Do you recall when you first activated your tactical cloak around me, and I was able to cloak with you? On Therum, deep down in the mines. That was the beginning."

"Sure, I fully _intended_ on protecting you at the time. It fits with Dr. Chakwas' theory about how I'm able to transfer my abilities to you, through our collective unconscious. But, Liara, we didn't even know each other back then… If this is all true, then that part still makes no sense."

"I know," she resigned herself to accept. "I know, Shepard. I do not fully understand this, either. If I could give you all the answers, I would. This is all I know. This is all we have. Until we learn more, I cannot speculate as to the rest. I am relieved that we know this much, at least. Aren't you?"

"Yeah, I am…"

Taking all of this in, I did believe what Liara had told me.

Still, there was always something else. Something else we didn't know.

I thought back to Benezia's other notes from the lab on Noveria where we'd found her—the ones that Tali worked to unencrypt for us. Because if Benezia had known all of _this_ information about the Protheans, there was no telling what we'd find on these other notes of hers.

But, regardless of what we did and didn't know at this point, we had a fighting chance against the Reapers now. If we could find a way to replicate the way Liara protected my mind from indoctrination—if Liara could study the Protheans' methods with this, and give our soldiers and maybe our civilians a more accessible way of fighting this—then we had a way to defeat the enemy.

Even if it meant fighting a long war that we might not have won in the end. There was always a chance.

There was always a chance…

There was always hope.

That faith, that belief, even if it was fleeting—it would keep the galaxy fighting.

I wanted to believe that. I _really_ wanted to; this was our best shot. But for some reason…I couldn't.

No matter how much I'd changed lately, I _still_ only knew how to rely on myself.

Was I too cynical? Too hardened, too damaged to trust in a hope and a prayer like this?

Staring up at this false goddess Athame, I couldn't help feeling that maybe, just maybe…I actually _was_ right to only trust in my own abilities. At least for now. Like it would've been pointless—a stupid waste of time to put my faith in the rest of the galaxy in this way. How the hell could I let myself rely on other people like this, when people constantly proved themselves as unreliable in the _best_ case scenarios?

Even I was unreliable.

I was about to be in a relationship with Ashley, and yet here I was, out on a date with Liara instead…

"You seem troubled, Shepard," noticed Liara. "Is everything all right?"

Why did she ask me that? Shouldn't she have _known_ already?

"Liara, I feel like there's something missing here," I shared. "Like there's a giant piece of the puzzle that we're just not seeing somehow. Like we're thinking way too small about this indoctrination thing."

"Really?" she asked in genuine surprise. "This all seems quite clear to me… What do you mean?"

I rubbed my temples. "I don't know… This is all way over my head. I didn't get nearly enough sleep last night—maybe that's the problem."

Liara stood up. "Then you should return to the ship," she soothed. "Catch up on your sleep. At least while you can."

I found it strange that she knew about this, but not the other thing. "You know about that?"

"Of course," she responded. "You promised Ashley you would meet her at my mother's home at noon. The two of you plan on playing video games with one another—at least until you are interrupted by the others, as you predict. And I recommend being on time. We don't need to speak. I understand you."

"Well, I can't read _your_ mind," I reminded her. "Aside from your email, I don't know what's going on with you. I don't know where we stand here."

Discreet, Liara guided me over to a corner of the temple, one with plenty of structures and artifacts in the way, shielding us from view. Shielding us from anyone outside the entrance, outside those security measures, and from someone who may have looked in and found us like this.

She leaned into my arms, into my hold, so smooth, like water fitting right back into this container of me.

I held her head close to my chest, needing her to hear me, to feel me like this again.

"Shepard, we needn't rush things," murmured Liara. "Not like before. It is clear that you and I will always have this between us. We will always have our bond, as well as the special intimacy it brings. I will be happy as long as I can feel you in this way. Do what you will with Ashley, as I said. What you and I have is important."

This was all I _could_ say: "I guess I just…need some time to get to you know again."

"And I'd like that. Very much so."

I figured it wouldn't hurt to tell her, "Once we're done here in a couple of days, I'm going to tell Joker to get us to Earth. I can show you where I'm from. We can spend time together. Talk again. All of that."

Liara smiled in her gratitude. "Yes, that would be lovely," she replied. "And even if I must share you for now, that is fine. Ashley will inevitably hurt you beyond repair. When that happens, you will let her go."

I already had my answer, but I asked anyway, "How are you so sure…?"

She eased me down by my neck, by my shoulders, lowering me to her.

Liara gave me her answer, wrapped in this patience of her lips under mine, over mine, against mine: like the breadth of entire worlds here in her breath laced with mine, like infinite possibilities spread out across the way she moved into me, needing me again.

Not in desperation this time, like before. This time, she needed me in confidence, because _she_ knew we were unbreakable, no matter what.

And she sewed me back together with this new confidence of hers, building me back up from before.

When Liara pulled away, studying me in this closeness, she found her own answers, whispering to me: "I know you, Shepard. And I know her, how reckless and demanding she is. One day, it will grow to be too much for you. Your tolerances can never bend that far, hence your fears over falling in love with her in the first place." She set her lips over my face, lingering. "Ashley only waited five years for you. I will wait for a thousand, if that's what it takes—until I die."

Surrounded by this divinity around us, I found comfort in Liara's words, in her clairvoyance: how she spoke to my own fears. And I found even more comfort in my own convictions, as confusing as they were right now.

But once we left the temple, and Liara and I parted ways—with her off to wrap up more of her mother's unfinished business, and me heading back to the ship—my intuition sharpened again.

I stopped right in the middle of the city, in this metropolis, staring up to the skyscrapers so high above.

Whatever Liara had been biding her time for, this date of ours was not _it._

Even now, obscured from her, I felt that biding from her brimming and brimming more. Such a sense of foreboding overtook me—about her, about Ashley.

Once I felt this anxiety, I remembered that Ashley had sent me that email earlier this morning, _before_ I left to meet Liara, and _after_ she had left my room after our talk at midnight. I couldn't keep ignoring it.

Standing along this pearl white walkway that led back to the _Normandy_ , I checked what this was, consumed right back in the flames of my choices. Consumed, because this was so new and unusual for me—this symbolism, this sentimentality. This appeared to be such a simple email, yet I saw far more here than the words on-screen:

_From: Ashley – Superiority._

_Commander,_

_I'm sorry for what I said back in your room earlier. It's your birthday. You were so romantic with me… I should've been more considerate. And…I shouldn't have walked away from that opportunity with you._

_I didn't get much sleep after all… Needing my space turned into feeling guilty pretty much as soon as I made it back to the crew's quarters. I spent the whole night in heat, tossing and turning in my bed from how much I want you. I wish you could've heard me. I wish you could've come down to my room, finding me like that. I was such a mess._

_Fuck, I need you to do it, right away. Right now._

_But, we can't. I guess it's karma—my period started a few minutes ago. It's so annoying… I forgot to tell you I usually get it during the middle of the month. And it tends to last for like four days or so. Depending on how long we're on shore leave for, I seriously screwed myself by keeping my pride with you._

_I doubt I'll get much sleep if I try. So I'm going to head back to Liara's place. Watch TV or something until you get here at noon. I still want to spend the whole day with you. All day, all night. I hope you're not too mad at me._

_Again, I'm sorry. I miss you. I miss you so much… You have no idea how much I trust you now._

_-Ash_


	12. Libra - After Hours

" _Give Up" by FKA twigs / "After Hours" by The Weeknd_

 **XII.** Libra – After Hours

_(Shepard)_

_To: Ashley – Re: Superiority._

_Ashley,_

_You don't have to apologize. You had every reason to be upset._

_With that said, I have some thoughts of my own about this situation._

_For the record, I will take some time to speak with Liara again, as you told me to do. Beyond that, I don't want you to assume anything about me spending this time with her. You more or less gave the impression that you don't want to know the details. So if you agree to stop bringing her up, and to stop arguing with me about her, we're golden. I understand your resentments, but it's best if we move past this, to avoid the worst happening. Find some other way to vent about it. I'm over it. I'm done._

_Regardless of whatever else, I still want you to be with me. That isn't going to change._

_And maybe the four days or so are a blessing in disguise. It should give you some time to think about whether you really want to be with me on this level. I don't doubt your convictions. I only get the feeling that if it's not Liara, there will always be someone else you'll feel threatened by. I can't help who ends up being attracted to me. I get the sense you that you'll hold it against me anyway. That wouldn't be fair._

_Either way, we'll spend the day together. All day, all night. I'll go along with whatever you want to do._

_A small aside: I want you to wear your hair down, with this same style, from now on. I like it on you a lot._

_I'll see you soon._

_-Shepard_

_._

_From: Ashley – Re: Superiority._

_Commander,_

_I understand what you're saying… I promise I won't bring her up anymore. Not like that. I'm afraid of pissing you off with this. I'll leave it alone. Sorry._

_I know it's selfish that I need you to be faithful to me. It's not what we agreed on when we started this thing we have. And I really shouldn't tell you this…it's so pathetic. But if you did cheat on me, if you did break my heart, I still…wouldn't leave you. No matter how many times you might hurt me, I wouldn't be able to let you go. I couldn't move on. I can't quit you. Trust me—it's the truth…_

_You're the only person in my life who has this kind of influence on me. And I know exactly what I have to do to be the same for you. Whatever you need, Shepard, I can give it to you. I'm the only one who can. No one else. I want you to believe that. I wish you'd accept that I'll never stop fighting for you. Ever._

_I'm not letting you give up on me, either, no matter what anyone says. I love you way too much for that._

_You'll never admit it, but that's just what you need. As long as you know that I know, then we're fine._

_Unrelated, but…I'm really happy you like my hair. I got it cut while we were on the Citadel the day before yesterday. It's a little too short for me to tie it back like I did before, even in combat. So I'll leave it down from now on, just for you. Shouldn't get in the way…not like if you kept your hair down during missions._

_I know it's impractical—I wish you would anyway, at least once. You're that gorgeous._

_Still can't wait to see you again._

_-Ash_

* * *

Chest constricting, heart tightening over and over again, tighter and tighter, I could hardly hold this in.

Walking along this path to Liara's house, I saw the building in the nearing distance, blue and silver as glass glinting in this late-morning light here on Thessia.

Neck and face heated and humid like I was in the middle of a sauna, like some kind of heated, flaming firewall had erected somewhere deep in my psyche, I had started sweating on my way over here—enough to make me fan out the collar of my white shirt, my long sleeves billowing with this wind; not enough to cancel out this fresh scent of me from my shower not too long ago. I ruffled my hair along my scalp to try and alleviate this, the length fanning out behind me as a brief air conditioner. Too brief.

Almost trapped in the dark blue of my jeans, this throbbing heat between me made it difficult to walk normally, but I forced myself to _look_ normal anyway. And my heavy boots seemed to catch more gravity, more ground underneath me, black glistening in the occasional shallow waterways I passed through.

The way Ashley was with me, pedal to the metal at all times, it was…

It was enough to make me lick at this faint bleeding over my gums, from having brushed my teeth too hard, chafing them raw with my cinnamon-flavored toothpaste, to keep Ashley from tasting _her._

And it was enough for me to make my way here earlier than I'd planned.

Checking my omni-tool as I stood outside the door to Liara's place, it was only 11am.

Ashley had already said she couldn't wait to see me.

So I headed inside, not knowing what to expect.

Glad that I had dodged a possibly-awkward birthday surprise encounter with everyone waiting for me right by the door, I continued on. Though everyone did seem to be awake, as I heard the sounds of their echoing conversation coming from the kitchen. I followed their voices, curious that they were actually up relatively early after their partying last night. Then again, maybe it wasn't by choice.

The TV in the usual living room was on a news channel, oddly enough: a live broadcast of the Alliance News Network. Showing grainy footage of covert Cerberus operations, the newscasters went on about the organization's efforts to create super humans through their experiments on rachni. They didn't seem to know the official story of what Cerberus had done to Rear Admiral Kahoku—or they did have the information, and they chose not to report it to the masses. For better or for worse, anyway.

I pulled out from my pocket the red pro controller that Ashley gifted me this morning, setting it on the coffee table for now. I looked forward to showing her at least one of my games today.

I went over to the kitchen nearby, finding Wrex, Joker, Garrus, Tali, Kaidan, and Ashley all surrounding the center island in the bright room, engaged in their discussion. They were so engaged, in fact, that they failed to notice me here. So I leaned on the archway of the entrance, arms folded as I listened in:

"No way, we can't get that!" dismissed Joker. "Pizza? Why the heck would Shepard wanna eat something basic like… _pizza?_ Dude, seriously, can you picture it? 'Cause I sure can't!"

Kaidan spoke up, "I'm gonna have to agree with Joker on this one. Shepard's a sophisticated person, don't you think? Whenever we go to the Citadel, she refills her alcohol stocks with some _pretty_ expensive bottles. That's not someone who'd settle for eating plain old pizza all day on her birthday."

Joker persisted, "Of course she's sophisticated—she was a freaking _model_ for crying out loud! This is why I said we shouldn't buy her an actual present. It's the same thing!"

Tali wondered, "Why _did_ you say we shouldn't buy Shepard a real gift?"

Sensible, Ashley said, "We can't afford her. Not on _these_ salaries… Then again, maybe Liara could. I bet she earned a fortune from her Mom's inheritance money she mentioned… Too late to ask now."

She certainly looked nice today in her form-fitting, black sleeveless top and that pair of tight, light jeans. I was intrigued by the classic red-and-white sports sneakers she had on. Ashley _would_ wear those.

Seeing her bare, toned arms supporting her as she leaned over the counter; her long shirt tightened over her breasts and the thin straps of her bra underneath, shaping her hips and rounding around her ass; and the slender slopes of her taut jeans around her long legs down to her shoes—it was perfection.

"True," agreed Garrus. "Just means we have to get creative. Win her over with the right food instead."

Wrex grumbled, "You make her sound like a real snob. What's wrong with pizza? Even I like it, and I hate most of your damn human food! That eezo thing sounds weird, though… I don't trust it."

Ashley gestured to a closed box atop the counter, insisting, "Look, I'm telling you, she'll like what I bought! Why won't you believe me?"

"How do you know for certain?" asked Tali, suspicious. "I thought you knew _nothing_ about her, hm?"

Bailing Ashley out, Garrus said, "Hey, I don't know about you, but the pizza idea sounds like fun for the rest of us. It's got eezo in it, right? _And_ there's a flavor that won't kill Tali and me if we try it? I sure wouldn't mind having some biotic powers for a few minutes after eating some. Even if they _are_ weak."

Flexing blue with his own biotics, Wrex joked, "How 'bout I toss you around for a bit on my own? See how those puny turian scales hold up when I send you flying across the room!"

"Let's settle down, Wrex," cautioned Kaidan. "We don't want any repeats of last night, do we? If we pull this off, and we get the commander to come out with us tonight, she's not gonna be impressed if you start playing hockey again with beer bottles and your biotics."

Wrex defended himself, "I cleaned it all up before Liara found out, didn't I? Unless you ratted me out!"

Before this got heated, I finally asked the group in an unimpressed monotone, "What are you doing?"

Everyone turned around and found me here, gaping at me in their own different ways—until all of their complaints and shock mangled together, indiscernible as a bunch of noise.

Joker's objection pushed through, "Jesus Christ, Commander, it was bad enough when you gave me a heart attack the first time! Why'd you have to go and give me another one?!"

"Yeah, Shepard," hassled Wrex. "What are _we_ doing? What're _you_ doing here?! You're early!"

Tali took note of my heavy boots. "I stand corrected, then," she soured. "It seems you're always silent no matter _what_ kind of shoes you have on. If I wasn't so startled by you right now, I'd be impressed."

Fuming, Ashley stormed over to me—"What the hell?! You _said_ you'd be here at noon! It's only eleven!"

As soon as she reached me here, everyone's attention shifted: they watched us closely, and they watched us with such a telling, nosey interest, trying to learn us here as we interacted together. I figured, since they all _knew_ , there was really no point in pretending anymore. To some extent, anyway.

I gave her my dry reminder, "I said I would be here _by_ noon. There's a difference."

Realizing that I was right, Ashley gave her sheepish reply, "Well, that's not fair…"

Joker sneered, "Wow, way to go, Ash. I guess we can always count on you to be the honorary blonde on the team, huh?"

"Damnit, Joker, no one asked you!"

I pulled Ashley's attention back with ease: "I emailed you about this already. Did I not tell you like half an hour ago that I'd see you soon? Or did you not read the whole thing before you responded to me?"

Ashley explained, "I thought you meant in an hour and a half—half an hour ago…"

"Ash, just because _you_ kept saying at noon, I wasn't going to change my plans."

"So you _did_ know I expected you here at noon!" she spotted. "You just came here earlier to be a creep!"

"Who's creeping around? Does it _look_ like I'm cloaked? Come on."

Exasperated, defeated, Ashley spoke the obvious, "It's like Tali said—you're quiet, that's all… Sorry."

I shrugged, justifying, "Well, I'm here now. Do you want me to come back in an hour or something?"

Nearly everyone shouted, _"No!"_ in unison, making me roll my eyes.

Then they all exchanged looks with one another—disjointed, unprepared. Their emails to me hadn't been enough. I felt their intentions: an impromptu chanting, or worse—singing—of _Happy Birthday._

I held my hand up, intercepting them—"Don't. _Please_ , I'm way too cynical for that shit."

Kaidan laughed first. "That you are, Commander."

"Damn," mourned Garrus. "I always wanted to do that for a human at least once. Seemed exciting."

Tali sounded amused, "Hmm, why am I not surprised you hate this particular tradition?"

Wrex ridiculed, "I wasn't gonna sing it anyway. Sounds dumb to me! And _depressing_ , for my people."

"Crap," worried Joker. "I thought you'd _at least_ stand there and let us make things awkward for you."

Ashley snapped at him, "I told you! You should've listened to me!"

While the team continued their debate about what to eat for the rest of the day, I stood by Ashley's side at the island in the middle of the kitchen. This box of whatever food she had bought had me intrigued. I pulled it toward me, opening it, and finding a pleasant surprise that reached my nose first:

Buttery, fresh, and still warm—Ashley had decided on cinnamon rolls for me.

Leaning over the surface, languid, I couldn't help smiling a little, eyes lighting up, almost child-like, feeling like a kid again. I helped myself to some of the rolls, glad they weren't obnoxiously huge: small enough to fit in my hand. I enjoyed this taste, much more savory than my usual toothpaste, obviously.

I thought back to home, back to the days I used to spend out on those pearly beaches with my old friends. There was always a trusty stand out on the boardwalks where someone would sell fresh, warm _churros_ , or fluffy baked cinnamon sticks. Back when we didn't have much money, we could at least afford these, sometimes surviving a couple of days on a single one if we really had to.

All I needed was a frothy, sweet Orange Julius drink and that would've rounded out the nostalgia.

I hadn't thought back to those days in a long time, though. How unexpected… So much had changed since then.

Most of my friends had died on the streets, depressed and alone, having overdosed on red sand—or they'd gotten shot to death over stupid shit, over _nothing_ , over the gang wars that had plagued us.

Or we had gotten separated after losing our only real home, once the city's gentrification efforts had evicted us and bulldozed away our memories, our stability—and the only dignity we'd had left.

Or we had just lost touch over the years, especially once I saved myself by taking on a job I didn't want.

On a superficial level, anyway, I hadn't had these same mannerisms of mine back then: hooking this roll with my thumb and middle finger, keeping my smallest one fanned out ever so much; and chewing with the faintest of indications that I even had anything in my mouth at all. And even when I did chew, I hated the thought of anyone seeing me do it. Instinctively, I kept this roll right in front of my mouth, only a breath away, guarding myself behind it while I stared off in a focused intensity, thinking on this.

Of course, out of the corner of my eye, I spotted Ashley staring at me, giving herself away, more.

I didn't mean to lick my lips, tasting this lingering aftereffect of butter and cinnamon.

Ashley couldn't even think to hide her burning face in her hands or anything. She kept staring. She kept her thoughts plain in her eyes, and in her beautiful face, of how much she wanted me. How much she needed me to lift her onto this counter, get on top of her and kiss her, and fuck her— _immediately._

Or she wanted me to eat her out, though not quite as graceful as I was with this cinnamon roll.

Too bad she was on her period…

And everyone watched her watching me with those filthy, desperate thoughts of hers.

I kept on pretending I didn't notice; kept on pretending my attention was elsewhere as I ate.

I fooled the team into thinking I was oblivious, getting them to give themselves away, too:

"Ash!" interrupted Joker, waving his hand in front of her face. "Earth to Ashley! _Thessia_ to Ashley! Hey! Stare any harder and you'll broadcast this thing to the whole galaxy! You know what the vid's gonna be called? _Will They or Won't They: How Ashley Williams Needs Commander Shepard to Bang Her, Badly!"_

Ashley realized what she'd done, and turned a brighter red, hiding. "Oh, God… Did I _seriously_ just…?"

Tali teased her, "You're terrible at this, you know."

Wrex gave a bellowing laugh. "No shit! I wondered how long it'd take before you cracked in front of us."

Garrus just _had_ to say, "Looks like the cat's finally out of the bag, huh? I told you, Chief."

Kaidan almost laughed. "You've been saving that one for this exact occasion, haven't you, Garrus?"

"Maybe I have, Kaidan. Maybe I have."

"Hey, wait a minute!" protested Ashley. "I mean, Garrus told me that you guys probably knew… But—am I really that obvious?"

This time, mostly everyone said, _"Yes!"_ at once.

Tali reiterated something that Ashley had very likely said: "Subtlety's not your thing, remember?"

"Hah, yeah right!" mocked Joker. "Screw being subtle! This is like you firing off a gigantic flare whenever Shepard's around, _begging_ her to f—"

"—okay, _okay!"_ conceded Ashley. "I'm the worst at hiding what I want. I get it! Can we drop this now?!"

"Oh, _hell no!_ Ash, we are _so_ having this conversation! Do you even know how awesome this is!? We spent the past three months giving you chance after chance, just waiting for you to slip up! Aside from you and Shepard burning down whatever rooms you were in, we had nothing. Turns out, all we had to do was put you and the commander together while she eats something that could be _a lot_ like your—"

Kaidan stopped him there. "Whoa, Joker… Might be a little too early in the day for _that_ conversation…"

Finishing my breakfast, I stopped myself from licking this cinnamon off of my fingers, even in _subtlety._ I went over to the sink instead, washing my hands with this blueberry-scented soap. That was enough to get the group to drop their so-called conversation, however abrupt, not wanting me to know what they then went back to their innocuous—and less heated—discussion about food for the day.

I left everyone to their supposedly innocent debate, returning to the living room.

Too humiliated to stay with them now, Ashley followed me to the couch, suffering the sounds of Wrex and Joker sniggering in her wake.

Sitting down with her right next to me, I fiddled with the remote and the TV appropriately. I used my omni-tool and my new controller to connect my virtual game console to this screen. Sorting this all out, I figured it was best to give Ashley a moment to get herself together. Then again, I wasn't exactly clear on why she was so embarrassed. She gave the impression that she would've been proud for anyone to know that we were involved.

Unless she wanted to avoid the truth of how deep this went, knowing that the others would ask.

Not ashamed with me in private; still ashamed of anyone else discovering those depths.

Once I found that my system needed to download and install an update, I looked to Ashley again.

I said to her, "Thanks for the food, by the way. I have a weakness for cinnamon. You all right, babe?"

That one thing set her off again and again, all over again.

Ashley shifted in her seat, shifting against me, wondering, "How long is this update going to take?"

"About ten minutes, maybe," I estimated. "One of the downsides of playing such old games. Why?"

Standing up with a suddenness, she held my hand and said, "Come with me. Right now."

I let her pull me along, knowing that the others stared and stared from the kitchen.

Down the hall Ashley dragged me to the nearest guest bathroom.

She opened the door. I gestured for her to walk inside first. Appreciating my manners while at the same time having no patience for them right now, she yanked me in the room with her. Ridges of my boots snapping atop the marble of the flooring, Ashley closed the door shut behind me. I hardly had any time to take in what the bathroom looked like, aside from the impressive amount of space in here.

Slamming me, hard, Ashley pushed my back against the surface of the door. Before the back of my head could slam there, too, with that momentum, she pulled my shoulders, pulled at my neck, pulling me down so that I was level with her. And she angled herself up to me, holding on to me for support.

Penetrating my mouth with the thick of her lips alone, and in one continuous motion of deprivation, she pushed at mine, so hard and so deep against mine.

Needing to breathe me, Ashley all but fused herself with me, hating this separation, hating this distance.

Rebelling against it all, she licked at my lips and bit at them with enough restraint, instead pressing herself _so hard_ into me, reinventing my own breaths and body heat to compete with hers, breathless and relentless—and I _couldn't_ breathe, I _couldn't_ keep up with her sudden onslaught, the way she pulled at my hands to make me grip her hips, the way she climbed me, the way she kept pushing me back against this door in impatience, impatience, impatience—

Trying to break away to fucking breathe, _"Ashley—"_

Ramming me, _harder,_ she refused to relent.

As much as I tried to breathe outside of her, Ashley took everything right from my mouth for herself.

She expected me to take enough right back for myself, right from her, even as much as her tongue burrowed against mine in this strength of hers, igniting me.

As soon as I gave this back to her—wrapping her torso in my arms, locking her in my own strength—she let out such a sound, such a high sound of surprise that made me smirk against her, baring my teeth.

Ashley couldn't take it, not even for this brief moment.

She burrowed her face against my chest, heaving for breath in my hold.

And once I let her hear this deep laugh of mine—sinister, knowing—she almost bucked her knees.

"Oh, no," she whined. _"No,_ why now? Why today? _Fuck,_ I should've stayed with you last night…"

"I'm sure you've learned your lesson," I lectured.

Ashley pushed at me a bit, enough to make me relax my hold around her. "Yeah," she agreed. "I'm letting you know _as soon as_ this is done with." She then looked up at me all of a sudden, sheepish again, but more…apologetic this time. "Um…could you— _give me a minute?"_

Suffocating my laughter back, for now, I asked her, "You have to change it _now?"_

"Ugh…"

She was so damn embarrassed; I cracked up, freer than I'd meant to, and loud enough for all to hear.

Even more embarrassed, Ashley maneuvered me aside, and then maneuvered the door open.

"Get out, Shepard!" she shouted, as she all but ejected me back out to the hall. I kept laughing. "God, you're such a fucking jerk! Will you go back to the living room and wait for me already?!"

Somewhere down the hallway, I saw someone tugging Joker back around the corner, causing his pilot's cap to fall from his head. Groaning and cursing in agony, Joker struggled to bend down and retrieve his hat from the floor, his brittle bones aching and protesting against him as he did.

Barely able to breathe as I leaned against this wall, I just kept on laughing anyway.

Ashley shut the door, locking it—red of the door controls gleaming in heated warning.

I managed to amble far enough away from the bathroom, for now, still catching my breath.

I gave Joker and his accomplice, or rather his accomplices, enough time to run back to the kitchen, again with me pretending as if I didn't notice their ridiculousness.

Once that time had passed, I went back to the living room, back to the couch, still smiling.

I knew that the others wanted to come in here—they wanted so badly to ask what that was all about.

Somehow, they managed to restrain themselves, keeping their conversation to a curious whisper.

My system had finished with this update, anyway. I continued the setup process of logging into my profile, scrolling through my virtual collection of games afterward. With Ashley on my mind, I paused over a few other games—stealth, action-adventure, RPGs—wondering if she would like them. I already planned on playing the one she had asked me about yesterday. Still, it was nice to think about her in this way, figuring out what she might've been into if she ever decided to play something on her own.

For some reason, I could really see her liking competitive shooters, instead of this cooperative one.

Or anything competitive. Anything with multiplayer, with a ranking system. Anything to prove herself.

I started up my N7 game right on time: Ashley returned to the room, looking grumpy.

I stood up on her arrival and faced her.

She stopped, noticing me, noticing my meaning.

Grumpiness subsiding, Ashley instead burned in reticence with everyone's attention on us. She made her way back over to me. I tracked her with my eyes and my body, keeping any other distracting thoughts out of my expression. I seemed peaceable enough, and I was. But once Ashley reached me, her lingering embarrassment wouldn't let her enjoy this; she put her hands atop my shoulders, plopping me back down over the couch. She then hid her face against my shoulder, holding onto my arm, clinging.

She said nothing, so I took my cue, picking the controller back up and getting started.

Though Ashley did smile into me when she saw that I chose to put her gift to use.

I cycled through my roster of characters and classes, figuring out what to show her first.

I always played infiltrators.

Maybe I could pick something different this time; or maybe I'd look through all of these characters, humor myself as usual, and then go back to what I was used to.

Ashley gaped at the screen. "Is that a geth?!" she balked, offended. "You can _play_ as a geth in this game? Different kinds of geth? And vorcha, too? Vorcha can be sentinels?! What the hell!?"

Sighing, I told her, "It's just a game, Ash… It isn't real."

"I know, but… We've scoped down tons of those tin cans out there! And this game lets you… _be one?"_

"This is only a game," I reiterated. "It's not blasphemy. We're not going to hell for playing as a geth. There are friendly units we can play as, and there's an enemy faction of geth to fight against. And there are even mock battles against the Alliance as another enemy unit. The geth here are just as flexible."

"That's _so_ weird…" Ashley seriously reconsidered this, for me. "I wanna watch you play as one, then."

I asked her, "Which class do you want me to be? There's only geth soldier, engineer, or infiltrator."

Humming as I showed her the selection, Ashley settled on, "Infiltrator."

"I'm not surprised," I replied, smiling.

"I want to see you in your element, Shepard. No surprise there."

I assumed that Ashley also wanted to see my sniper rifle play, so I made sure I had my weapon and equipment set up accordingly.

I then searched for a lobby on the usual Gold difficulty setting, finding one right away.

I was only the third person to join. As we waited for one more player, I spotted Ashley taking note of the information about me on the screen: my profile name, my Sniper banner and designation, my N7 rank.

"I like your gamer name," she complimented. _"Vespair._ It's—easy to remember. Unique, too."

"Just don't tell anyone what it is," I said. "For obvious reasons."

"My lips are sealed."

While we waited, though, I sensed that Ashley wanted to ask me about something.

Perhaps she wasn't sure if she _should_ ask, hence this hesitant flavor to her silence.

I prompted her, "What's on your mind, babe?"

Getting straight into it, Ashley recalled, "You never mention having cramps or anything. No headaches, no mood swings. I've been trying to figure out when that time of the month is where you might seriously need your space. So…why don't you talk about those things with me?"

"Because there's nothing to talk about."

"What's _that_ supposed to mean?"

I tried again, differently, "I don't have those problems, Ashley."

"Wait. Are you saying…?"

"I dealt with this a long time ago—permanently," I explained. "As soon as I had the money, I got the procedure done. I did it for personal reasons and professional ones. With my specialization, it would be too inconvenient to have that get in the way of a possible long-term operation, like how Torfan was for me. If I'm stuck somewhere for several days, and there's no way to leave for a while, that's…too much."

"Oh… Makes sense," reasoned Ashley, disappointed. "Then what were your personal reasons?"

Once this fourth person finally joined, I checked myself as ready along with my other teammates.

We began loading into the match. But this fourth person's name, Infiltrait0rN7, seemed familiar to me…

"It was too…inconvenient," was all I said.

Ashley wanted more, "That's all…?"

I knew this was personal for her. "Ash, I grew up in a fucked up world. Yeah, I had adults who cared about me, who looked out for me. They kept a roof over my head, kept me in school, all of that. But the rest of the world _gave up on us_ …on me. I could only watch as I lost those adults to their own demons, to drugs, to the bottom of a bottle of alcohol. I've seen my own best friends get shot before my eyes all because they walked on the wrong side of the street, wearing black instead of red. That was all I knew until I got out. Why would I want to bring a child into that world? It would've been irresponsible of me."

And I somehow told her that story, all while playing this game with my usual concentration, and all while sniping headshots one after another, like it didn't matter.

Meanwhile, Ashley's breaths tightened, all as she held my arm tighter, watching me play. I couldn't help noticing the way she tracked my thumbs, how I flicked the analog sticks in precision for those headshots.

Aside from how much she valued family in general, I got the sense that this upset her for other reasons. Reasons that she wouldn't dare tell me at a time like this. Some of those reasons, I was sure, had to do with how much she worried for me—how much I had seen, and how desensitized I was to everything.

Even now, I shot these virtual Alliance units like they were nothing, blood spattering; not caring at all.

Yet Ashley wished to learn from me: "How did you do it, Shepard…? How'd you keep yourself together?"

"I didn't," I admitted. "I avoided most things, and I ran away from the rest. I found enough control that way. Anything to keep me from feeling that uncontrollable anguish of losing everything—again."

She still wanted to know, "But _how?_ How'd you pull it off? How'd you keep going? How'd you stay alive when it seemed like your entire world wanted you dead?"

"I survived, Ash. Survival at all costs. The moment I felt threatened by someone, it was either kill or be killed. I usually had no time to de-escalate the problem; to use my diplomacy you're so familiar with. If I had time, then the person was already dead anyway. Give me time, and I will plan, stalk, and _then_ kill. Don't give me time, and I will snap and terrify someone; overwhelm their mind. Either way, I'll win."

Reinforcement: Ashley watched my gameplay, watching how I never hesitated, how I never stopped.

Planning my approach with my cloak hiding me, stalking—and then I took the shots, every time.

And she didn't shy away from me, listening to me speak like this in such coldness.

"I have a lot to learn from you," said Ashley. "Tell me more about your instincts. I want to know."

We spent a few hours talking about this as I kept playing, with Ashley absorbing my every word.

Though speaking of my instincts: at some point during our conversation, I spotted Tali out of the corner of my eye, walking down the hall. It looked like she was on her way upstairs to the bedrooms there. Probably heading to Liara’s room. Tali had her head canted down, attention intensely focused on her omni-tool, the orange glow reflecting off of the violet of her mask. I imagined she was in the middle of talking with Liara through the chat room. Maybe they were busy messaging each other privately. And even though I couldn’t see Tali’s face, there was something about her that seemed highly emotional. Emotional, yet controlled. Anxious?

I was tempted to go follow her. To ask if she was all right. Something told me to give Tali her space instead. She was clearly in the middle of something important. Something that was likely none of my business. I didn’t want to interrupt her.

But about Ashley:

Compared to me—her family and sexuality issues aside—she'd grown up in a relatively sheltered life.

Ashley had a biological family who cared for her. She'd had normal friends at school. She'd had her sports teams to focus on, and a future to look forward to. She'd never had to worry about protecting herself or her sisters from yet another gang war, from yet another drive-by shooting at home. She'd never had to deal with the danger of surviving in that world: to either join up with one of the gangs and start dealing, start walking the streets for credits, or finding some other miracle to make it all stop.

I had found some other miracle, and now I was here with Ashley, as her dream come true.

It always came down to this.

It always came back to this, with Ashley's heart prevailing over all else.

After these few hours discussing this brutal topic, she asked me to stop playing, at least for now.

I left the lobby and returned to the main menu, letting the ambiance from this music fill the room. I set my controller down on the table, out of the way. And I turned to face her, giving her my full attention.

The rest of the team had found their way to the other, smaller living room, staying quiet over there.

They'd ceded this larger space to us, giving us this privacy, somehow without spying on us—all as the best birthday present they could've given me.

As for Ashley, I had felt this conversation coming for a long time now. Whenever she brought up her family, telling me anecdotal stories about her sisters or her parents, I never knew how to feel, how to react. I knew everyone's names. I knew their quirks, their personalities secondhand. I knew the objective details. But I could never know what it was like to have that kind of bond with someone, romantic or otherwise—to rely on that someone, and to trust that they would always be there, no matter what.

"Shepard, I have to ask you about this," said Ashley, pushing her caution away. "You know how much family means to me. And I've always known you were an orphan… I don't think it's really hit me before: how different we are from each other. It's hitting me now, with this conversation. The girlfriends you've had in the past…did they ever want something more with you? You know—marriage, kids, a home…"

I responded, "They all did. One of my exes admitted that she planned on proposing to me."

"Why didn't she go through with it…? And how long ago was this?"

"She didn't go through with it because I wasn't there. We'd planned on taking some elaborate trip together. But about a week before, we got into a stupid fight. For me, it was one stupid fight too many. I ended up not going with her. She had bought me a ring and everything. This happened seven years ago."

Ashley didn't want to know the answer to this, yet she asked anyway, "Would you have told her yes? Even if you were just—caught up in the moment?"

"No."

"Then why were you with her if you didn't…if you didn't want to be with her long-term like that?"

She had gotten to the heart of a foreign, uncomfortable issue for me.

"Ashley, not every relationship leads to marriage," I said instead. "Otherwise the divorce rate across the galaxy would be much higher than it is now."

"That's not what I mean, Shepard," insisted Ashley, getting right back to this issue. "I'm talking about your ex. I'm talking about _you._ Why be with her like that if you didn't want to marry her? She wouldn't have proposed unless you two were serious. You _were_ serious, right?"

"We were," I replied.

" _So…?"_

"I was too young. I wasn't ready. And I didn't know what marriage meant. I wouldn't have known how to honor her as my wife. All I really cared about was work. When I wasn't deployed, I would stay with her, and she would try to take care of me. We argued too much. I checked out from the relationship. I left."

Now that Ashley seemed anxious in her silence—shallow breaths, shaking—it suddenly hit me.

Back when I'd assumed that Liara was the type to not have sex unless she was in a relationship with someone—unless this someone valued marriage; unless the relationship could have led to marriage—I had made the wrong assumption. Or I'd made the _right_ assumption, but about the wrong person.

Or maybe not quite, still.

I remembered that Ashley had hooked up with others in the past. She'd been able to make that disconnect, living in the moment. And perhaps, at some point, she had been able to make that same disconnect with me, not really minding either way if I did or did not share these strong values that she treasured so much. Regardless, she had been happy to be with me in the moment, every moment.

But our situation kept escalating.

And now that we had shared our feelings on what we wanted with each other in trust—in dominance, in submission—the situation had escalated once again.

Obviously, Ashley would not ask me the most direct questions about this.

She knew that it was way too much, way too soon.

Still, there were plenty of other questions she could have asked me to fill in the blanks instead.

But she seemed to only draw those exact same blanks in her nerves.

"Ash, let me help you out here," I offered. "My situations with my exes are all in the past. And even when I did tell you my state of mind at the time, it was also just that—in the past. I'm not the same person I was years ago, or even months ago. A lot's changed. My life…has changed. _I've_ changed."

Searching my eyes, Ashley needed to know, "How've you changed, then? Tell me. Please…"

I wanted to dodge her question.

I wanted to point out that she already _knew_ the answer to her question.

She had watched me change over this time.

The team had watched me change over this time.

Everything around me had watched me change over this time.

"I'm more…responsible," I listed. "And I'm more likely to put someone else's needs above my own. I tried doing this with my exes, since it _is_ a natural part of who I am. That clashed with my unwillingness to actually love them. I didn't know what any of that meant… I have a better idea these days." Taking this risk, I chose to remind her: "I know you're upset about what I did with Liara back then… But the truth is, she unlocked this growth in me. I wouldn't be this way with you now if not for her. _Really."_

Ashley was satisfied enough with that, and took a figurative step forward to ask, "Could you fall in love with me, despite how afraid you are? _Could you_ do it, knowing what I want someday down the line…?"

"I could fall in love with you _because_ of how afraid I am. And I've already accepted this about you."

Listening to me speak with my fears and convictions both, with my convictions overriding all else, I saw the change in Ashley's eyes, in her demeanor.

After all this time, she'd chased after me, relentlessly and without rest, without expecting anything in return. She had been content to express herself to me, to get to know me, to go at my slow, glacial pace. She had loved me in my distance, promising to stand by me anyway.

Now, these flames had evolved and converged, enough to unsettle her in what this meant.

And I hadn't even told her the full truth: that I knew for certain I would fall in love with her someday.

 _Someday_ continued to speed closer, sooner and sooner by the second, ready to shatter me, to end me.

I had Ashley lie down along the couch, her head and her shoulders propped up by the armrest.

Knowing that we couldn't _do_ anything, I settled myself between her anyway, resting my head over her chest. I felt blanketed by the tightness of her jeans, her long legs around me. Buffered by her quiet shock, and tempered by these limitations, Ashley held me closer in a natural instinct. Breathing slowed and under duress from her thoughts, she let herself be here with me in this moment, uninterrupted.

As natural as this was for her, it was not natural for me.

As much as this soothed her, to have me level with her like this, she didn't soothe me as I'd expected.

During these hours, Ashley gave me a much different feeling than I'd imagined.

Afternoon passing to evening, and evening passing to night, I fell asleep with her here, knowing that she stayed awake the entire time. Staying here with me, Ashley refreshed all that I had already felt. She reinforced me, reinvigorated me. She stroked my hair and held me around my back, my shoulders, in a way that reminded me of what I was, strengthening me; not once pulling me out of my own reality.

Ashley needed me to exist as I was—without letting me run away, without letting me stay in my head.

Restoring me, adoring me, I could rest with this feeling from her. At least until it was time to wake again to the rest of the night, the rest of what she and everyone else—and time itself—had in store for me.

* * *

Armali's city lights at their brightest after sunset: that time was now.

Ashley and the others managed to get me out of the house after dark. As another birthday gift, sort of, Liara had rented a skycar for us, to help us get around the city without needing to rely on public transportation. And she wanted me to drive, letting me decide where I wanted us to go for the night.

We hadn't really eaten anything that day. Aside from me sneaking more cinnamon rolls before leaving Liara's place, I knew I should have gotten some actual dinner tonight. So we headed out to the car—thankfully with two backseats, leaving plenty of room for everyone—while I used my omni-tool to locate the coordinates to the destination I had in mind. I figured we could head downtown, park in one of those communal lots, and then walk the short way to a strip mall and entertainment center nearby.

The team would never ask me directly to take them out to a nightclub. Still, I knew that they wanted to go, so I added that as the second stop to our itinerary, after everyone had eaten dinner at the mall.

Tints of orange and vermillion still distilling across the night skies, I opened the automatic car doors for everyone, lifting. I was glad that they were all wrapped up in conversation already. They broke off into groups: deep in a private discussion as usual, Liara and Tali claimed the backmost seat for themselves, their arms linked together in closeness. That left Garrus and Wrex to almost crush Joker and Kaidan in between them in the middle seat.

I held Ashley's hand as I helped her into the passenger's seat, knowing that she didn't need my help, necessarily, but more for the gesture. Girlish in her delight, she beamed at me the whole time, brighter than the metropolis' lights in the far distance and the glowing clusters of stars in the night sky above.

Music blasting just under everyone's conversations, I drove us to that parking lot in the heart of the city. Feeling no need to rush, I found myself relishing this time, this energy, with the team seeming to enjoy the simmering booms of my trip-hop and electronic music drilling through the skycar's speaker system.

I felt that drilling even more through Ashley's hand in mine, using my other hand to drive just fine. Out of the corner of my eye, I held her serenity and joy unbridled as she gazed at me from time to time. I knew she enjoyed this more _because_ everyone watched us, even as the guys joked around right behind us, making it quite obvious that they saw our hands interlaced over the center armrest in their view.

Though I did spot Liara leering at me each time I looked in the rear-view mirror, the hard focus of her blue eyes lanced by the passing headlights and brighter lights as I drove along.

Maybe Tali, too, at least from the way her helmet faced me in this intensity, her obscurity crossed and lined by the same flashing lights.

Ashley couldn't notice them from where she sat, busy enjoying the music, the moment, the memory.

After making it to the parking lot, we then took the short walk to the tall, tall city center that housed all kinds of places for leisure and entertainment here in downtown Armali.

Holding Ashley's hand again as we walked, I felt myself guiding her with pride, however subtle. I kept my thumb over hers, interlacing laced appropriately—and in this lacing, her touch heated mine in continuous pulses, radiating without sweating. Clean comfort and a perfect fit, our fingers equally thin.

All around us, I spotted the passing asari and the handful of people from other species, staring at us.

Staring at Ashley here with me, staring at me here with her; walking around us to cede a path.

I knew Ashley liked the attention— _this kind_ of attention with me.

As high as the skyscrapers raised around us, skycars whirring by way overhead in lines of brake lights and headlights, this was what kept her attention here on the ground with me, smiling up at me often.

Every now and then, she would turn around to talk to the guys, too, though her real focus never left me.

I did note her efforts to keep Kaidan included in the conversation about the city, as Joker, Garrus, and Wrex talked about our surroundings. The asari and other pedestrians made an extra effort to walk around us because of Wrex, because of his size and his stature. Enjoying the wide berth, Wrex made a point to flex his arms and lean forward every time he noticed yet another asari staring at him in terror.

And still, Tali and Liara stayed at the back, almost removing themselves from us to speak alone.

Once we made it to the mall at the top of the city center, the other people around us weren't so concerned about our group, instead going about their own business and entertainment up here. Rows and rows of shops, restaurants, bars, play centers, and more, I liked how this place felt like an indoor plaza with the roof open to the stars above. Plenty of waterfalls, statues of silver and blue marble, and fine architecture that somehow reminded me of the Temple of Athame, I enjoyed this aesthetic here.

We soon splintered off into groups to go do our own thing.

Garrus and Wrex went to go play laser tag, with Joker joining them to help keep score.

Liara and Tali meandered off somewhere.

I lost sight of Kaidan, but I knew he had to be alone. I decided to find him, sooner rather than later.

And Ashley stayed with me, letting me keep holding her hand as we ambled through the mall together.

"So what do you want to eat?" she asked me, as we passed by a tall, scenic waterfall. "Or did you just wanna walk around for a bit? This place is really pretty… I figured you'd pick out something like this."

"I'm actually looking for Kaidan," I said. "He wasn't with the guys when they left to go play laser tag."

Ashley realized all of a sudden that we had lost him. "Oh, shoot! Where _did_ he go?"

"Not sure. Any idea what type of place he might've gone to?"

"Probably somewhere to catch the game. I think it's live right now. I was gonna watch the vid later."

"Game?" I asked. "What game?"

Ashley replied, "Football, what else? American football, I mean. Not soccer." I remembered Kaidan had been watching a football game when I found him yesterday, but… "Come on, Shepard. _You know!"_

"Can't say I do. What's the big deal?"

"It's kind of crazy this season," explained Ashley, pretty animated. "Looks like an American team might finally make it to the Super Bowl! The New York Giants have the best chance so far. Depends on what happens tonight. We _have_ to get one of our teams in there next year! The Beijing Dragons are looking _way_ too strong. The Giants are the only ones who can put them down and get that championship!"

Even though she had been kind enough to use layman's terms with me, I still gave her a blank look.

Smirking now, Ashley asked me, "You don't know anything about sports, do you, Shepard?"

I made an attempt:

"…I know that my hometown's football team sucks so hard that we lost our stadium way back when. And I know that they have a rivalry with the Oakland Raiders. We felt that rivalry out on the streets when I was younger. Our basketball team sucks, too. It barely exists anymore next to the Lakers up in Los Angeles. I also ran into a lot of basketball players whenever I was in L.A. walking for Fashion Week. I met some football players, too, when the Super Bowl was in San Francisco a while back. After parties."

"Yeah, you _should_ know that!" said Ashley. "San Diego Chargers versus the Oakland Raiders—that's required learning. It's amazing that you got to meet all those players. When I was in high school, I swear that was my dream…" Ribbing me, she asked in a teasing voice, "That all you know? Anything else?"

One last attempt:

"And…I know that the fifty-yard line is the center of a football field. That's it."

Ashley laughed. "Okay, now _that's_ adorable," she teased, more. "You'd think a SoCal gal would know more about the games. The Lakers are legendary. Five championships in less than a decade? No one's managed to beat their record yet, and that was from centuries ago!"

I bit back my own laugh. "Ash, _what_ did you call me…?"

"You heard me, Shepard! You're from sunny Southern California. SoCal. SoCal gal. That's what you are!"

"Sounds like some kind of reference to a song or something…"

"Might be… Can't remember where I heard it from. Just that it made me think of you."

"Well, you're not even from Earth," I pointed out. "You were born on a colony, weren't you? Sirona, out in the Ursae Majoris system? Why do you root for American teams instead of, say, Canadian ones?"

Ashley smiled, happy to tell me, "Yeah, you remembered right. It's not like we had a dedicated team out on Sirona or anything. So, we got to pick and choose. Dad usually had the game on when he was home, cheering for the American teams. I miss when he'd have his military friends over for watch parties. He'd throw something on the grill and crack open a bunch of beers. He'd let me drink a little while I watched the game with them. And he'd brag to his friends about how I'd make the League myself someday…"

That was impressive. "Really? You never mentioned that before… Just that you played sports in school."

"Mmm, I know," she replied, wistful. "I mean, it's pretty obvious I was a jock back then: I loved swimming and football. It's how I met my first ex—you know, the basketball player. I was a linebacker for the varsity girls' football team. Or, teams, I guess… I didn't get the chance to stick to just one school. I transferred three times before settling in junior year. That's…the one thing that hurt my chances."

"Right, since your family was always moving around whenever your father got deployed somewhere."

"Pretty much," confirmed Ashley, sighing. "That's why I never brought it up. Still hurts to think about how different my life could've been. If I had the chance to make a name for myself at one school, I could've gotten a sports scholarship. Every NFL rep I met was impressed with my stats. Maybe I really would've played on one of the co-ed teams in the League. I could've been a pro. Now I'll never know."

I wondered, "Is that another reason why you resented your responsibilities at home?"

"Yeah, no kidding there… I was so mad about it. Made me rebel against the whole military family thing, too. I kept telling my Dad I wanted to play professionally one day instead. He wanted me to carry on tradition. All that _bragging_ he did during game nights and Super Bowl Sundays was just for show…"

She went quiet as we continued walking together, passing by a string of restaurants.

The smells of so many different types of cuisines from across the galaxy—it made my mouth water.

More important than my hunger, Ashley frowned, staring down at our shoes in-step, deep in thought.

Hoping to cheer her up, I recited, "God makes no mistakes… Or so I've heard."

Within seconds, Ashley found herself again, laughing in brightness.

Giving me a swift kiss, still blazing enough to singe me, she kept on smiling.

"I've heard the same," she joked. "Thanks, Shepard. For putting things back into perspective for me."

"Any time, babe," I told her, smiling with her smile.

We soon found Kaidan standing by himself outside a loud, packed restaurant called the Fifty-Yard Line Sports Bar & Grill. He lingered there, staring inside with a pale sadness about him, seeming to wonder if he should bother going inside alone. But it looked like that football game was on across the large TV screens above the restaurant's bar and around the rest of the building. So he kept considering.

Ashley noticed the sullenness about him. "Is he okay…? I haven't seen him like this in a while…"

I knew it wasn't my place to tell her.

I couldn't even let her know about the plans for San Diego without possibly giving this away.

"Why don't you go join Kaidan for dinner?" I suggested instead. "The two of you can watch the game together. Have those beers at the bar, maybe, after you eat."

"That sounds like fun, but… What about you? Where will you go?"

I pointed behind me. "I'll find somewhere to eat. Maybe a Japanese place. Don't worry about me."

"If you're sure… Just—call me if you change your mind? You could always come with us. I know you're not the galaxy's biggest sports fan or anything…"

"Go ahead without me, Ash," I encouraged.

Not understanding, Ashley agreed anyway. She held my face with both of her hands, so luscious in her goodbye, lingering. I held her waist on instinct, supportive. And even though she was only here with me like this for a moment, that lingering persisted on in near-endlessness. Breathing through me, over me, everyone around us disappeared, evaporating in the heated mist of her longing for me, even now.

I whispered over her parted lips, "Let me know if you need anything. All right?"

"I will…"

Holding my hand, not letting go until the last second—Ashley headed over to Kaidan, giving him an easy smile. The two of them talked about the game for a bit, before walking inside together to the cheering rowdiness of the restaurant. Already, Kaidan looked much better, glad that Ashley had found him.

Pleased that the two of them were settled, I wandered off in a direction at random.

Through my instinctual rear-view mirror, I realized that I wasn't alone.

I escaped into the nearest, dark store filled with such over-the-top grim-dark clothing, speakers blasting with melodramatic goth rock. Activating my tactical cloak, I watched from a corner as Tali and Liara poked their heads inside the store. They looked around, speaking in frustration over how they had _lost me._ Sighing, they then decided to wait outside the store, basically going on a stake out until I exited.

_Seriously?_

Seething over the whole thing, I waited in this corner for a bit, suffering the sounds of this stupid music.

It took me too long to remember to put my headphones in.

I relaxed somewhat once I started listening to my own music.

But only that— _somewhat._

What the hell were those two doing, stalking me like this? They must've followed after Ashley and me the entire time we'd spent walking around the mall together, _watching us…_ I really couldn't know at a glance what their deal was, and it wasn't like they would tell me if I went up to them and asked.

I needed to figure this out:

From what I knew, Ashley had lied to Tali about the two of us not being involved.

She had kept her word about keeping this a secret. Even if it had meant lying to her best friend, Ashley had fulfilled her end of the bargain…despite everyone already knowing anyway, having figured it out.

So now that things were out in the open, I assumed that Tali was upset over the lies.

And maybe something else, too, more obvious.

I couldn't even begin to know what Liara had told her about this whole thing—or what _her_ deal was.

I had a headache just thinking about it.

Didn't help that I was starving.

Uncloaking and leaving the store, I found Tali and Liara across the way, staring at me. They were right at the entrance of a store, Stargazers, apparently filled with navigational star charts. Whatever conversation they'd had, they stopped, focusing all of their energies into regarding me over here.

I lowered the volume on my music—for now.

Visibly annoyed, I went up to them, asking in smoothness, "So, how are you ladies doing tonight?"

Liara and Tali both clammed up, not knowing how to react to me.

They _saw_ that I was annoyed; they _heard_ that I was not.

Tali chanced replying to me, "We're fine, Shepard… What about you? How are you doing?"

"Not bad, actually," I chatted, throwing them off more. "I was about to find someplace to eat. Think I have a taste for some Japanese food. There's a tempura place a few restaurants down from here. Do you two want to join me?"

They paused again.

They were pretty fucking bad at this, not having planned this far ahead at all.

Liara told me, "I am not particularly hungry… But thank you for the offer."

"Me neither," claimed Tali. "Thanks for asking, though… Why don't you go on ahead?"

I shrugged, saying, "All right, then. I'll call you once it's time to leave to the next place for the night."

Too curious not to ask, Tali inquired, "The next place…? What did you have in mind?"

"Joker wouldn't stop hinting earlier about going out to a club. I picked one out. We'll go there soon."

"Which club might this be?" wondered Liara.

"Dark Goddess," I told her. She widened her eyes. "What? It's the only place around here that plays trip-hop _and_ alternative R&B. I'm sick of the same, tired ass synth dance beats. We're doing this my way."

"Shepard, are you not aware of the club's history? It is the site of a popular film of the same name…"

"Yeah, the cerebral erotica movie about two asari together. _Dark Goddess._ I know. I like that film, by the way. But as far as I can tell, the club itself is nothing like that. They just play good music. It's dark, and it's not too loud. There's a nice view of the city on the balconies, over in the VIP area. So, we're going."

Tali puzzled, "The— _VIP area?_ How do you even know they'd allow us in there…?"

"I'm a Spectre," I reminded her. "They'll let us in."

A little flirtatious: "Oh… Well, I _do_ enjoy your confidence about this."

"Mmm, I bet," I soured, even though Tali's voice turned me on. "I should go. Try to get something to eat before we head out. You don't want to drink on an empty stomach at the club. Could be dangerous."

No acknowledgments, no goodbyes.

I did my best not to roll my eyes as I left, heading to that Japanese place I'd mentioned to them. Raising the volume back up on my music, I hoped that Ashley had a better time with Kaidan than I had with these two jokers. She hadn't called or emailed me, so I assumed that she was all right.

I also made sure that the Council hadn't emailed me about that Virmire and STG situation. Though I went ahead and configured their alerts to come in as a priority alarm on my omni-tool. I knew, as soon as they did contact me, they'd _expect_ me to head to the _Normandy_ ASAP for a briefing. Their timing was bound to be terrible; I'd have to rush the team off on this mission at the worst possible hour. _I knew it._

So far, it looked like we were in the clear to head to San Diego in a couple of days.

I could _finally_ go back home and sleep in the calming peace of my own apartment, in my own bed, awash in the pale golden glow of the city misting in through my windows as everlasting light…

Thinking on it now, maybe I missed home a lot more than I gave myself credit for. _Maybe._

Besides that, I couldn't even speculate as to how Tali had changed so much since I'd spoken to her on the ship yesterday, let alone Liara from this morning, after the deep revelations she'd shared with me.

Better yet, why was Liara acting so clueless as to my thoughts and intentions? She should've known.

And, sure enough, she and Tali continued following after me, so indiscreet.

Even once I made it to the restaurant and put my order in, they remained just across the way, staring.

I resigned myself to eating this crispy tempura and drinking my warm sake in false isolation, hoping that the remainder of the night would somehow make up for this unexpected drama.

* * *

Elevated from the rest of everyone else here in this nightclub, heightened in subspace from this environment alone, I sat and observed, sat and observed. Black leather of a long couch beneath me, hazy darkness of this ceiling above me, the pulsing rhythms and moody beats of this music had tuned into just the right frequency for me, my heart throbbing and drilling in-time with this booming bass all around me. Shining wine glass resting along my upturned palm, the flute of the stem settled between my middle and ring fingers, I drank the fragrant blue of this pure Thessian wine, so refined in flavor.

Such generous space in this VIP area of Dark Goddess: spread out in front of me, across from me, the crowded dance floor roiled in a heady heat from everyone's dancing. Packed even more, the normal area downstairs, we had a view of from up here beyond the railing not too far away, with droves of asari and some other species flooding into the front doors. Coveting all, the walls and halls of this space held everyone in a freeing adventurousness, the coloring of blue so dark that it looked black from here.

That balcony nearby overlooking the glittering lights beneath the night sky, the bustling bar just on the other end of the dance floor: I had the perfect vantage point to observe _almost_ everything from here.

I had the single, sublime view of all that I cared to perceive tonight.

Drinking more, keeping my arm outstretched along the top edge of this couch, and keeping my heavy boot resting atop my opposite knee, I kept Ashley in my view.

Not having had too much to drink yet, she was with Kaidan over on the dance floor. He wasn't one for dancing, just as I wasn't, but Ashley wouldn't let that stop them from having a good time. Surrounded as they were by dozens of others dancing in freedom, Kaidan only stood in place. He smiled as Ashley held both of his hands in hers, shifting his arms back and forth in-time with the beat while she danced a bit. The two of them laughed over the silliness of it all in between the conversation they shared together.

In between keeping an eye on them, I scanned the VIP area to keep track of the rest of the team.

Joker had found some company by one of the booths in a corner. Grinning in shock and just enough slickness—thanks to the drinks he'd had already—he leaned against the leather as two asari stood quite close to him. They fawned over his neckbeard, over the tightness of his shirt, having removed his pilot's cap some time ago. Because he was up here in VIP instead of downstairs with the commoners, they figured that he was _someone_ , so they teased and flirted with him with that one thing on their minds.

Sitting together at the bar, Tali and Garrus drank while they talked, looking to be in quite a serious discussion. Possibly emotional, Tali kept sipping and sipping from her straw, one drink after another; at a loss, Garrus kept buying her more drinks, foolishly hoping to help alleviate whatever the problem was.

I knew for a fact that Tali hadn't eaten any dinner tonight. This was bound to turn into a problem.

I hoped that Garrus kept his _Scout's honor_ over there, too, protecting Ashley's secrets as promised.

Liara was… _somewhere,_ out of my view, perhaps on purpose. I sensed her with such a sharpness tonight.

Nearby, a few people stumbled out of the way as Wrex walked by them. Bottle of alcohol in-hand, Wrex sneered in amusement at the asari fleeing from his line of sight, speaking in fear about the mangled scars over his face. He then noticed me here sitting on the couch, and decided to walk over this way.

Standing in front of me, Wrex acknowledged my presence—"Shepard."

I stared up at him, acknowledging him back—"Wrex."

Wrex guffawed with laughter, before drinking. "You sure do crack me up sometimes, you know," he commented. "You're a real comedian! Anyone ever tell you that?"

He had clearly had more than a few drinks already.

"No, actually," I humored. "You're the first person who's ever told me that."

"In a good mood tonight, then?" he probed.

"You could say that."

Smirking, Wrex gestured to the free space next to me. "Mind if I sit? Wouldn't mind chatting with you tonight, Shepard. My _friendly_ comedian."

I gestured to the same space, saying, "Go ahead." Amused by how the couch shifted somewhat with Wrex's weight, I looked to his drink and asked him, "So what are you having?"

Wrex raised his bottle. "Ryncol," he replied, drinking more. "This is the good stuff. Some of the hardest liquor in the galaxy. Real _krogan_ liquor! It'll mess you right up if you don't have the quads for it. Didn't think they'd have any on a dainty little planet like Thessia. Glad they proved me wrong." He noticed the blue of my wine, the grace of my mannerisms. "That wine you're drinking?"

"Yeah, it is," I confirmed. "Why do you seem surprised?"

Humming, Wrex pointed out, "It's _blue_ , Shepard. Thought you were _kind of_ done with…blue things."

"I wanted to try some."

"Huh. Was that it, then? I don't buy it! You and Liara still have that bond of yours. It's damn powerful. We all see it, every day. That why you're still drinking _her_ tonight on your birthday?"

I needed to know, "Wrex, what are you getting at? Are you making some kind of metaphor here?"

Thinking for a moment, Wrex admitted, "I gotta tell you, I've been following this saga of yours. Listening to the kids go crazy over you, it sure is interesting. Kept me from brooding over other…stuff." Bitter with the reality of his peoples' suffering from the genophage, Wrex drank more. "Your blue tale _stopped_ me from drinking. Your story with Chief? Makes me drink like a fish in radioactive water."

"What do you mean? Are you saying you're stressed out now? Because of _Ashley_ and me?"

"Stressed? No," said Wrex. "You two get me _thinking_ way more these days, feeling all sorts of crap I never wanted. Thought I could care about my problems from a distance, see? Then I watch you of all people opening up your heart to something real. _You._ Commander Shepard, tougher than the Tuchanka greats, throwing that toughness aside for this real shit. You sure do care about her like that, don't you?"

I wasn't prepared for this conversation at all.

Not with Wrex, _of all people,_ who normally would've been the last person to talk about these things.

I glanced up and across the way, finding Ashley sitting with Kaidan at the bar. The two of them tried to talk to Tali, who wasn't having any of it, and promptly stormed off. Garrus sighed and shook his head, trying to explain what he knew. Then Kaidan stood up, leaving after Tali, determined to follow her trail.

Whatever Garrus did explain, it wasn't enough of an answer to Ashley's concern and cluelessness; brows knitted together in concern, she searched with eyes vacant for a reason as to Tali's behavior, unable to come up with anything solid. Tali must not have mentioned Ashley at all—no indication whatsoever.

By chance, Ashley soon looked up in my exact direction, finding me here with Wrex sitting at my side.

Locking her eyes to mine and mine to hers, her concern and cluelessness vaporized in the faint haze of smoke fogging above the bar. Pulsing from the music, the moody beats and bass from this song darkened my sight red-blue in reflection of this wine, of her, blended as both hues. And this familiar steaming sweat coated my body, my skin, everywhere, covering me in this outward trance.

Sipping more of my wine with this lock of Ashley's fixation on me, I told Wrex in honesty, "Yeah. I do."

"That's…legendary," noted Wrex, drinking again. "Maybe I should finally let myself care, too. Stop running. Stop fighting it. _Completely,_ this time."

Ashley only broke our stare once Garrus waved his hand in front of her face, forcing her back down.

I smirked along the circle's bend of my glass over her deer-in-headlights expression over there.

"I think you should, Wrex," I encouraged. "Let yourself care about your people. Shutting it all off and pretending, running…it never works. All it does is make shit worse in the long-run. Then, you're stuck cleaning up those other problems…before you can face what actually matters. That's wasted time."

Wrex held his empty Ryncol bottle out in front of him, contemplating.

I reminded him, "For now, we're still on shore leave. Enjoy yourself while we can."

"Yeah," agreed Wrex, standing now. "Then that's my cue to get another one! Good talk, Shepard. Good talk. Glad to see you're not scared of getting into this deep stuff. I sure was for the longest… Not anymore, though." He offered his hand. "I've got you to thank for that. Appreciate you hearing me out."

I grabbed his hand with my free one, joining in his tough pull, firm in shared understanding.

"You bet," I told him. "See you around, Wrex. And stay out of trouble."

Chuckling, Wrex headed in the direction of the bar. "No promises there, my friend. No promises there."

As I glanced to the bar again, I spotted Ashley curling her lips into her mouth as she drank her own choice of red, fruit-filled poison for the night, hiding a smile there. Still sitting with Garrus, she seemed to have watched my exchange with Wrex, finding more joy as they talked. I had my confirmation once Wrex made it over there to them: the way he spoke with her first, Ashley gave him such a genuine smile as they chatted, not appearing to notice Garrus looking out and around to the rest of the club.

He must've been looking for Tali, or at least Kaidan, who had gone off to find her earlier.

Finishing the last of my wine, I left my empty glass behind and went looking for Tali myself.

As I walked around, I overheard Joker with those same asari. The three of them sat together at the booth now, with him in the middle bragging about his skills and stories as the best pilot in the Alliance. His companions hung on his every word, oh so captivated and charmed by his cockiness and pride.

And I was sure that Joker had certain plans in mind as he told his tales, inflating his ego even more.

Shaking my head, I returned my focus to finding Tali in this crowd somewhere, somehow.

I circled around the railing that overlooked the lower area, searching both the VIP area and downstairs.

With my attention halved like this, I almost didn't notice that I'd nearly made my way to the bar. Not quite, but still close enough anyway, I could see and hear Ashley laughing with Wrex as they drank together. Garrus had lightened up a little as he drank as well, probably deciding to trust that Kaidan had found Tali somewhere, since he had not returned to the bar empty-handed by now.

Yet I found Liara standing here by this railing near the dance floor, eyes focused on everyone at the bar.

 _Everyone…_ or maybe just one specific person.

"Liara," I called, snapping her attention to me. "What are you doing?"

"Shepard!" said Liara, startled. Placing her hand over her chest, she sighed. "I am sorry… You frightened me. I was just contemplating if I ought to join the others… I am not one to drink much alcohol—or, at least, not as much as _they_ appear to be drinking."

"I'm sure they wouldn't mind having your company. You don't _have to_ drink with them."

"Yes, I know… I do not have the best experiences with—social pressures. This awkwardness and anxiety continues to linger, limiting me… I wish I could get rid of it."

"Just go for it, Liara," I told her. "Like I said, you don't have to drink. Let yourself have a good time with the team. They're your friends, right? They'd never pressure you like that. Try something different with them, something new. You might learn a thing or two about yourself that way."

Smiling, she accepted my advice, "That does sound doable. Thank you, Shepard. I will try my best."

Were we seriously having a _normal conversation?_

Liara had to know how strange and out-of-place this was.

Earlier in the mall with Tali, she was acting so weird.

Earlier in the car with Tali, the look in her eyes through the rear-view mirror had spoken volumes.

It was almost as if we hadn't talked this morning at all; or, _we had,_ but something had changed between then and now, and Liara wasn't willing to broach the subject. She chose to…run away from it instead.

"Before you go do that," I diverted, "Are you gonna tell me what's happening with you?"

Dimming back down to the real emotional level I'd expected, Liara avoided my eyes.

She breathed out, "No…"

"Why not…? We just had a nice morning together. You have to know that I care, don't you?"

"Shepard, now is not the time for this," said Liara, firmer in her torture. "We are out for your birthday. We are supposed to be enjoying ourselves! I don't wish to discuss my feelings _here,_ of all places."

I pointed out, "That's fair, but how did you not know this was on my mind? _Shouldn't you_ know this?"

On the verge of tears, Liara was about to snap at me. Seriously snap at me. She held it back, somehow, swallowing her breaths back down, those breaths billowing with the echoes of the hurtful words she'd barely stopped herself from hurling at me. Not wanting to lose herself in this short-term, in this moment right here, right now, she restricted herself so hard, enough to make her head pulse with her biotics.

I clenched down on my teeth, swallowing this new stinging in my throat that tasted of our white wine.

White to black, Liara had split in a hot second, reminding me too much of someone I used to know.

"Liara… What's going on with you? Why…are you doing this? Why are you looking at me that way?"

With my words, she hovered somewhere in the middle of her splitting now, between the black and white, existing in that gray space for a time as she looked up at me.

She had no words.

She didn't know how to answer me.

But somewhere through her eyes, Liara at least acknowledged that I was worried about her, and that I had damn good _reason_ to be worried.

So, instead of finding her words to reassure me—to reassure herself—she found another solution:

Hidden behind this crowd with me, blanketed by the bass and loudness of the music, Liara settled her hands over my face. So sweet, so gentle, she pulled me down a bit, shielding me more, and keeping us out of view from our team at the bar. She pressed her forehead to mine, her will pushing through bursting walls of fire deep in my mind. And in this soothing gesture, she calmed me from my worries.

She calmed me from…so much more, taking me so much higher with her touch alone, her presence.

Setting me adrift, more, Liara found her words: "Shepard…please forgive me for making you this offer at such an inappropriate place. At an inappropriate time… The others could discover us at any moment. I am not one for dancing, so this will unfortunately be the closest we will come to that as we stand here together… More importantly, I have one last gift for you, for your birthday. It is yours— _if_ you want it."

Relieved that she seemed to be okay now, I whispered to her, "What is it?"

"Close your eyes."

As I did, the weaving blue of Liara's biotics activated through her hands, lighting the last of my sight.

That blue stayed with me even in this darkness, pulsing with the music all around us.

On instinct, I held Liara around her waist, needing to feel her like this.

Liara breathed against me with her pain, finding her own solace as she stayed here with me, giving me this otherworldly affection. Somewhere through the black of my sight, I felt her intentions… I saw the purity of her spirit, of what her mother had tried to foster in her, flailing and failing against the onslaught of our current situation. But that piece of her, now that she was here with me, began falling into the ocean of her limitless expanse, and of her heart and soul, mending itself, expanding anew.

And I felt the same in myself somehow.

After everything, I knew I would always have her here with me.

Even though _somewhere,_ I still worried for her, worrying if I was on the right path, Liara had found this way to reassure me that everything would be just fine.

She spoke to me through that healing, "This gesture is part of asari culture. It is elevated from the one we usually share: melding as a way to share memories, to show affection…or to say goodbye. I wanted you to see how I feel, since you asked… Though I suppose you won't be able to see everything."

I absolutely felt her affection, mending me, and with mine mending her. And this trance she gave me…

Staying as aware as I could, I still needed to know, "So…what's the rest?"

"Shepard, part of this _is_ goodbye," admitted Liara. I held her tighter, my hands shaking. "Not physically… Not in a literal sense. I know how special Ashley is to you. As long as I do not see her at her worst, I will approve of your union together. Whatever you are stopping yourself from, unconsciously, I see now that it will not remain in stasis for much longer. I want you to be prepared for anything."

"If you're really fine with this, then _why_ were you about to snap at me…? What's the matter?"

"Because…our bond had been interrupted again. I thought that it was _your_ doing. I thought that you meant to hurt me on purpose, knowing that I need you so. It was not your fault, and things seem to be fine now. But I still don't have any solid answers as to why this happened again in the first place."

Frustration, so much frustration—"Then why is this a fucking goodbye, even if it isn't literal?"

"I haven't given up on you," insisted Liara. "And I won't. I never will. But after our discussion this morning, I am not nearly as confident about our circumstances as I was before. When I thought I had lost you again, I…nearly lost myself. Having you here stabilizes me." I saw the same, in the way this breezy air of me seemed to sew together this ocean of hers; and the reverse, in the way this ocean of hers kept my winds on-track, steadfast. "I worry about how close we are, Shepard. Not because you will soon be in a relationship with another woman. Not because you are falling in love with her. Not that."

"Is this about what you mentioned in the park?" I wondered. "That mirror you're afraid to look into without me… You say Ashley won't be a problem for you—but how do you know that for sure?"

Liara soothed me more with her biotics, her touch along my face, pressing her lips to mine.

 _This time,_ she gave me her scars. She gave me the darkness that stirred in her, still held together by the light she saw and loved in me. Consciousness itself revealed through her, opening me so much more:

"This isn't about me," promised Liara, speaking in attractiveness through my mouth. "So long as you are happy and satisfied, and so long as we have our bond together, I will be fine. This is how I can keep you at my side. I will be happy that way. I am only upset when I feel our connection dimming somehow."

I wasn't entirely convinced, but I didn't want to doubt her convictions. I couldn't doubt her, because—

I felt her clinging to me, completely, just in the way I needed on this level, so unfathomable.

I felt the way she needed me to bolster her, to keep her safe, simply by feeling my trust in her.

I felt Liara existing through me, as if we were the same person almost.

I felt her gripping me even through her own solitude, finding her home here…as I needed.

Liara sensed my sense: "And I would still love to visit your home, to see how you are there, and where you grew up. I am only concerned that we will…fall back into something once we do. Falling back into bed; falling back into sex with one another, but intertwined in love this time… Don't you think?"

"Yes… I feel like we _should,_ though. I still…need you to need me, as selfish as it is. I miss you. _I need you."_

"Then you will have me—at that time," she said, smiling against me. "Getting into trouble while we still can…unless you change your mind. I believe you just might. Regardless of what you decide, Shepard, I will be here. Though I do feel myself changing. Changing in ways that terrify me. This was what I avoided in choosing not to be in a relationship with you. Running from my own feelings…from who I truly am. I have accepted this, as I told you this morning. And I am glad I did. Still, it is difficult to live with…"

Feeling helpless for her, I needed to know, "What can I do to help, Liara? Tell me…"

"You don't need to _do_ anything. No matter how afraid I am, I will persevere. Do not stop to hold my hand and baby me. I must grow past this. Our bond should be enough to sustain me through the rest."

"But…" I looked deeper into this sea, finding the truth: "Liara, you're not safe. You're under way too much stress. Yeah, you're strong, and I can _see_ the way we hold each other together, but… I hate that I can't fix this. And I'm sorry… Sorry that I thought I could get rid of you so easily before. I'm sorry about everything—I really am. I can never deny how important you are to me. So what if I _want_ to baby you?"

"Shepard…"

I held her tighter, as protective as I could—"You're incredibly precious to me. If I had stayed with you, I would've lost my mind, trying to _fix you…_ I get that. I get that _I can't!_ But, _please…_ don't push me away."

Pulling away instead, Liara dissolved this moment, this vision.

She still stayed in my arms.

I could perceive the rest of her world as normal again, seeing that no one had spotted us here.

None of that mattered right now, though.

Liara held me just as tightly. "I won't do that," she vowed. "I am not pushing you away… I am only trying to tell you…that I accept all that has happened, and _will_ happen in the future. You will be with her. It is inevitable. I don't want you to hold back with Ashley for my sake. She will know, and it will cause much stress for you. You and I are intrinsically linked. This is inescapable. _I must_ put your heart before mine."

Up until then, I hadn't realized how much I needed Liara's selflessness more than her selfishness.

Her willingness to sacrifice for me: it brought up so many reminders of what I had already fallen into with her, _completely unconscious,_ and beyond my notice, my view…until now.

But, this look in her eyes—she didn't want me to say it. Not yet. Because there was way more to come.

Liara continued: "I will protect your mind, always and forever. Please trust in me to do this—that is what I need from you above all. _I need your trust._ I need you with me in this abstract sense while I continue navigating these troubles of mine. I have taken the critical step of welcoming them into my heart as my friends above all. I feel you here beside them, beside me. Trust me to care for you as I care for myself."

"I trust you, Liara," I said. "What we have is important, like you mentioned earlier. In that sense, I'm not going anywhere…" Liara nodded in a deep acceptance, calming, just as she calmed me, kept me at peace. "Will you be _okay,_ then? Because unless you are, and unless I know that, then _I_ won't be okay. I can't move forward with anything unless I know you're going to be all right somehow. _Will you?"_

"Yes," breathed Liara, stirring me so. "Yes, I will be… For as long as we have our bond, and it is not interrupted anymore, I will be fine. You needn't worry. I will do my best to…continue with my self-care."

Mostly satisfied with that, I let Liara step out from my hold around her, before anyone saw us.

Making sure: "That's all you need from me? For me to trust you, even while I'm with someone else?"

"I always feel your presence by my side. You are here with me as my one true love and companion, no matter what, even when I am alone. It brings me much joy. That is more than enough."

I smiled at her with my full trust, glad that she would be okay, and that she had me like this.

Liara smiled back at me in her full relief, glad that we had this promise now, making her even stronger.

 _Completely_ ruining the moment, Tali came out of nowhere, wobbling over to us.

"Liara," said Tali, grave; pointing at her like she'd done something wrong. "Did I ever tell you…? Did I…?"

Finding reality again, and finding her concern over how drunk Tali was, Liara asked, wary, "Did you ever tell me _what…?"_

Tali pinched Liara's cheeks. "How adorable your freckles are!" she cried out in joy. "They're like little blueberries…spread out over the buttery muffin of your pretty, smiley face…" She gasped. "Why do I want to _eat_ them?! I would die! Yourrrr DNA isn't the same as mine, you know… Mine is for me only. That's right, only me… And _I_ cannot _lie_ about that! It is the cold, undeniable…truth…"

It looked like my theory about her and Ashley was right.

Liara frowned in a sort of helpless understanding, knowing the same. Probably knowing way more than I did, considering the two of them were best friends.

But then, Tali shuffled over to me, reaching up; pinching _my_ cheeks instead…

Tali lowered her pitch, teasing me, "And you, grumpyface! Would it kill you to smile more? You have such a lovely smile, Shepard… Your laugh is absolutely beautiful, too. The moment I heard you laughing at Ashley today, I knew… _I knew._ Oh, yes, I knew… She may have been angry with you then, but your charming laughter sent Ashley hiiiiiighh above the house, above the _Normandy,_ up to the stars above…"

Not wanting to give away my own understanding, I told her, "You're one of those sweet and innocent drunks, aren't you? The kind that wouldn't hurt a fly, but ends up saying the most random shit."

Tali let out a dramatic gasp. "I'll have you know there is nothing _random_ about what I am saying!" she asserted, letting go of my face. "I am not sweet and innocent, either! I am a grown woman, and despite what people think, I do not need anyone to coddle and babysit me! _Not you,_ not anyone!"

"Coddle, babysit?" I asked, feeling like she was accusing me of something. Something personal. "Who's babysitting you?"

Pointing behind me, she said, "Him, there! He's been following me this whole time! Tell him to stop!"

Following the direction of her accusation, I spotted Kaidan skulking around back there, trying to blend in with the crowd on the dance floor. It turned out, standing stone-still like a statue in the middle of a bunch of people grinding on each other wasn't the best form of disguise for him. Not one bit.

But by the time I looked back to Liara and Tali, they were gone, already on their way to the bar to join Ashley, Garrus, and Wrex over there.

Liara did look like she was okay again, smiling a bit as she guided Tali along.

And I loved her…for making these sacrifices, for letting _me_ have these double-standards this time.

And I knew, this had come up so quietly—as quiet as Liara's strength—so she didn't need me to say it.

She already knew, too. So that was one problem solved. Sort of…

Tali was seriously wasted. We needed to get her back home soon before she blew up at Ashley over this.

_Home…_

But first, I went over to Kaidan, asking him, "Were you really following her that entire time?"

Kaidan rubbed the back of his head, guilty as he replied, "Err, yeah…I was. Tali wasn't too happy with me when I went up to her directly. She kept insisting she didn't need my help. Then she wandered off. Figured I'd keep an eye on her, at least until she found her way back to the others. I made sure no one went up to her or tried to take advantage."

I wasn't surprised at all that he'd done this. "Thanks for keeping her safe, Kaidan. I appreciate it."

"Of course, Commander," he said, smiling. "You would've done the same for me. In fact, you already did. Aside from my whole…situation…Ash told me you encouraged her to head to the grill with me. We sure had a lot of fun. She's a great friend. Really helped me out."

"That's good to hear. I still want you to get checked out first. Just in case."

Kaidan nodded in agreement. "Definitely. I'm not so anxious about it anymore," he shared. "I'll be open and honest with the counselor about what's bothering me—you have my word." We both glanced over at the bar, finding that Liara had decided to have a drink with everyone after all. "Hey, Shepard… Do you think I should tell Ash about my, um, issues? This all started back when she was mad at me over something, and… And I feel bad for not coming clean with her. Would it help if I told her the truth?"

Leaning on the railing now, I asked, "You think _I'm_ the best person to answer this?"

Joining me here, Kaidan justified, "Well, you'd know Ash pretty well by now. Better than the rest of us."

I really didn't know enough about this situation… "She wouldn't judge you, if that's what you mean."

"No, no, not that," he insisted. "I get that she's open-minded about things… It's just, way back, I could tell she was hurting about something. Hurting over you, I think. I already knew she liked you a lot, but Ash did her best to try and throw me off her trail. Kinda hurt that she didn't trust me… I ended up making things worse. Now it's a miracle we're even talking again. I'm worried about opening up old wounds for her. But maybe you'd know if those wounds are still there or not. Does she resent me…?"

Something told me that this might've become part of Kaidan's recovery process later on.

He _had_ seemed upset and distracted back on Feros, aside from his splitting headache at the time.

So I gave him my honest answer: "I don't feel that Ashley's holding a grudge, or that she's being fake with you. I get the sense now that there's a lot you two are sweeping under the rug. It'll probably help if you smooth things over at some point. I can't tell you when or how. This is your choice, not mine."

"True," accepted Kaidan. "I owe her that much. I'll do my best to find the right time… The right words. The right…timing, for certain things. _Those things_ are just—too heavy to share with her this soon." Not wanting to bring the mood down any more, he suggested, "Say, why don't we head over to the bar? Check on Tali, see if we need to get her back to Liara's house. Wouldn't hurt to keep an eye on her."

"Agreed," I said, walking with him around the dance floor, over to the bar. "I'm thinking we should go ahead and take Tali back sooner rather than later. I have a _feeling_ she didn't eat dinner tonight."

Kaidan made a sound of concern. "Drinking like that on an empty stomach? No wonder…" He sighed over her recklessness. "I know Tali's on the younger side, but still. She should know better! Something could've _seriously_ gone wr—" Spotting something—or someone—on the dance floor, Kaidan suddenly darted off in a random direction, blurting out in a flushed embarrassment as he went— _"Oh, God!"_

Following where Kaidan's line of sight had been before he bolted off, I completely understood.

_I completely understood…_

Rooted to the spot, I gaped at this sight of Ashley and Liara together in the center of the crowd. Deep in the center of the music, the center of that obscurity, they blended there. Only by chance had Kaidan noticed. Only by complete chance did I notice them, too: Liara standing there in place, her lidded eyes hazy from the influence of whatever she'd had to drink; Ashley draping her arms over Liara's shoulders, dancing in a steady rhythm against her, steady enough to whisper in that darkened mischief of hers.

Whispering, whispering right over Liara's lips, or next to Liara's crests, so high—Ashley had also had one drink too many, having thrown away most pretenses of whatever hostility brimmed between them.

Swallowing this thick knot in my throat, my face and neck steaming, I couldn't let this chance pass by.

I shuffled through the crowd as best as I could, nearing them. I didn't bother cloaking—there was no point, not in this cluster of people rocking and gyrating against each other, just as Ashley did to Liara in playful sensuality.

I stopped as soon as I was close enough to overhear, hidden behind a couple tall enough to conceal me.

Arms still draped over Liara's shoulders, one wrist over the other, Ashley spoke in such a relaxed lust, deep in the lower register of her voice, so sultry, so _unintentional,_ flowing freely in her intoxication:

"I don't think so," she claimed, continuing their conversation on. "I'm not seeing things at all…"

"I believe you are," insisted Liara, without insisting at all—soft, yet clear, she tolerated this, at best.

Ashley laughed softly. "Everywhere I go, you're there," she murmured. "You've been following me all night long—plain and simple. You're not fooling me… Don't even bother. Just—don't. There's no way I'm falling for it…" Licking her lips, she angled her face just so, as if about to _kiss:_ "So…what do you want?"

Liara did her best to stay firm, despite her haze—"You really shouldn't presume things about me…"

"Presume," echoed Ashley in wickedness. "That means it's possible… Interesting choice of words."

"No, it means that you have _dared_ to do this," corrected Liara, stronger. "What if Shepard finds us?"

"Stop changing the subject. Tell me why you've been following me. I wanna know."

Caged in this situation, Liara could only say, _"I was_ …trying to figure out where this came from."

Caressing the blue of her face, and those freckles, Ashley smirked and asked, "What's _this?_ What do you mean? Be honest with me now… I'll know if you're lying."

"There was a firewall in my way. I nearly lost my mind over it today."

"A… _firewall?"_

"Yes," said Liara, removing Ashley's hands from her face. "If you don't know what it is I mean, then it's of no concern to you. As it should be."

When it seemed as if Liara was about to leave, Ashley held her hand instead.

"Not so fast," she warned. "You're not getting off that easy… Since you won't be straight-up with me, that just means I have to take the initiative. I have no problem doing that. Now get over here."

Liara tried to stay in one place; physically stronger than her, Ashley dragged her along anyway.

Avoiding detection, I followed them through this crowd, keeping my eyes locked to the specific pattern of light blue over Liara's crests, over her crown, to distinguish her from all the other asari around. More helpful, I made sure that the bare skin of Ashley's arms stayed in my periphery, since there were hardly any other humans around us, ensuring that she stood out from that blue and violet, from everyone else.

That petulant swing of their interlaced hands swung as such a maddened metronome between them.

Ashley led Liara out to one of the wide balconies overlooking the view of the city late at night.

No one else was around up here, giving them enough freedom to speak freely.

Cloaking this time, I kept a closer eye on them, watching and listening as carefully as I could:

Ashley pressed Liara's back against a wall, facing her toward the sky. She stared through to the reflection of the metropolis in the width of Liara's eyes, so very wide over this change of events.

"You owe me some answers, Liara," whispered Ashley, in-time with the faint breeze. "And not _just_ about tonight. That dream…the one that changed everything—I know you were there. I felt you. You were there in Shepard's head, watching me through her eyes, feeling me through her touch. Waiting to see if she would _really_ take me… Is that what you wanted? Did you want her to fuck me up, humiliate me?"

Burned by this surprise, Liara had no real response prepared. "Ashley…"

Smirking over that unpreparedness, Ashley mocked her, "You're sick, you know. More to you than meets the eye… Yeah, no shit." Still, she stroked Liara's neck and shoulders in such a coquettish way, those wiles of hers shifting as wisps through her touch. "I almost wanna blackmail you over this. Hold it over your head. Demand some payback. You know—tit-for-tat. An eye for an eye." Managing to kindle Liara enough, she earned a reaction from her: those sounds, curled with provocation and stimulation both. "Mmm, _this_ is a surprise… I thought you hated me. What's this all about…?"

When Liara refused to respond, instead breathing harder by the second, Ashley laughed, so seductive.

"Of course you won't answer me," she went on. "It's nice to know I'm living in your head like this, though. You must be dying to know…what the big deal is about me… Aren't you? Tell me the truth…"

Again, Liara could say nothing, her chest raising higher, concaving lower.

And, again, Ashley hovered her lips just over Liara's, not quite touching, not quite meeting her there.

Breathing over her, smelling of alcohol, Ashley whispered, "Tell me no if you want to. Tell me to stop…if that's what you really want me to do. If you don't wanna face this, then say so. I'll wait for you, Liara…"

Liara fractured the subject, if not outright changing it this time: "Ashley…I refuse to have sex with you. We are _not_ having a threesome with Shepard. If you are asking me for either of those things…"

That cockiness of Ashley's smirk shaped her voice: "No, that's not what I'm _asking_ for… This is about you. What you see in me. What you're trying to figure out about me. You wanna know why she wants me—I get it. So, instead of _asking_ , you sneak around… You put your nose where it doesn't belong. You treat me like some lab rat for your research. The thing is, there's only so much you can learn that way…"

Easing herself closer, closer, firmness of her lips pressed against Liara's without _pressing_ —Ashley waited here, breathing in this contamination of anticipation and antipathy both.

She pulled Liara's hands around her shoulders, hooking her there. She settled her own hands around Liara's waist, waiting there.

Waiting—staring straight-edged into Liara's eyes with a harsher mix of hostility and heat.

Waiting…for Liara to tell her no, to tell her to stop.

Caught up in her curiosities as Liara was: Ashley knew she had the upper-hand.

And then, when Liara wouldn't push her away, Ashley pulled away, stepped away, emotionless in her abject denial. A few paces back now, she watched as Liara tried and failed to catch her breath.

"You're pathetic, Liara," scorned Ashley, so very cold. "You're just so fucking _curious_ about me _,_ aren't you? It's that same stupid curiosity that got you here in the first place. You wanted to hold something over my head so damn bad that you sent Shepard to my room, hoping she'd fuck me and leave me like I was some trashy whore, even if it _was_ only a dream. Right? Isn't that what you thought she'd do?"

When all Liara could do was stand there, trembling and avoiding eye contact, Ashley scoffed.

Uncanny precision Ashley gave in her continued mocking: "And there you go again, _holding back and waiting,_ when you already know it won't get you anywhere. You wanna be the better person? Bide your time? Play the long game? That only works when you _know_ you can entrench the enemy, tire them out; get them to keep making mistakes until they lose—or better yet, forfeit. You might know _my_ biggest weaknesses…but guess what? My fuck-ups are nothing compared to what you're trying to do here."

Forcing herself to speak, steeled so hard, Liara asked, "Just what do you _think_ I am trying to do?"

"You're trying to act like a saint when you're not. You want to be perfect in her eyes, flawless. You're not a god, Liara. You're a person, just like me, just like her. You _know_ she can't resist when a woman's real with her—so why bother holding back? Why bide your time and wait for her to go back to you?"

"Ashley, _this is who I am,"_ emphasized Liara. "I am not like you. I am not reckless in the way you are…"

"Then you're not playing to win."

"This is not a game!"

"If that's what you think, then you don't know Shepard," argued Ashley, still so cold. "Lone wolves don't stay alone for fun. They do it because they're scared. She did it because she was afraid of getting hurt by you, by me. When a wolf is alone like that and you wanna protect it, you _have to_ go up to it directly. You _have to_ risk getting hurt, getting bitten or outright killed, over and over, while it's trying to protect itself. Stay away and it'll forget about you. So, yeah, this _is_ a fucking game, Liara. Wake up!"

Liara let out a dangerous exhale. "… _she_ came up to _me._ It was not the other way around."

"Yeah, since you were fresh meat. And then your trail led her right to me instead. Thanks for that."

"Why are you doing this?" questioned Liara, again about to snap. "Why are you so…hateful?"

Devoid of all feeling, Ashley said, "Because…you made her break my heart before I could get anywhere near her. She didn't consider my feelings. You made sure I knew. And you terrified me when you did it… Then, you made a fatal mistake. You stepped aside, thinking you could give her _time,_ and she'd come running back to you after getting sick of my shit. You didn't count on _any_ of this happening, did you?"

Liara hadn't expected such a sincere answer, yet her blood continued to boil—"What is _this?"_

"You know exactly what this is," claimed Ashley. She pointed to the view, the railing behind her. "You see that? You see that drop, that fall? Her heart is right there, right now, about to fall for me—but here _you_ are, reminding me all over again of how much she hurt me through you, like some kind of puppet master. After the day I've had with her, everything is so fresh and raw for me all over again…and I'm about to make a mistake. I feel myself about to walk away…but I love her too much to ever do that."

Calming with that reveal, however unintentional, Liara lowered her head. She already knew that information about me, about my heart.

But, Ashley…

Liara needed to know, "Why…would you admit this to me?"

"Because…I can't tell her. She's sick of me arguing about you. I can't tell anyone. I had to tell you; I felt like I was about to explode if I didn't get this out somehow. You can keep that as your token from me."

Such a lack of compassion from Liara as she retorted, "If you won't allow yourself to be truly honest, then how can you claim to love her? You would let Shepard stumble around in the dark to figure out what the problem is? And if she does not find the answers, your heart will only break more, leading to more problems, more issues between the two of you. How is that fair to her in the slightest?"

Ashley snapped at her, "I don't expect you to understand! Don't bother thinking you can figure me out. I don't need you to fucking do it! Just like I don't need you thinking you can _share her_ with me! It's not gonna happen—period!" Scowling over Liara's shock, more, she got the last word in: "There's your damn _firewall_ , you stuck-up bitch! Try and break it down—see what happens. I swear to God, I _will_ make you pay if you even _think about_ stepping anywhere near Shepard after this. I'm so done with you…"

Nearly storming into me on her way out and away, Ashley left the balcony, left Liara standing there in sheer denial.

Because of course, Liara knew that I would never tell Ashley about that one thing, those exact words…

Liara knew that I had overheard: in her frustrations, I heard the way she breathed. I couldn't read her mind, not like before when she had melded with me, given me that gift. All I could fall back on was my intuition again. And my intuition told me that Liara wanted to be alone, otherwise _we_ would end up in an argument next.

Worse than that, I couldn't follow after Ashley at all.

I couldn't suddenly go up to her, asking her about this—because then she would know I'd overheard. That would've shattered her trust in me, no matter how much she loved me.

Even though I had every undeniable urge to go find her right now— _immediately_ —I had to stay away.

Ambling off to a safe distance, I uncloaked, exposing myself to everyone's perceptions of me.

Maneuvering myself through this crowd, I held everything in, needing to isolate myself, needing to get away from this music, this enjoyment, this reminder of what I couldn't indulge in right now, not now. Holding it all in, I felt myself about to break, about to let it out: this gathering, building, brimming. I forced a fracture in my own mind to keep this in, getting to the hall that led to the restrooms.

Packed women's restroom, empty men's restroom. I rushed into the men's one. I sealed the door behind me, the red light an ironic comfort right now.

Shutting myself in the only stall, I locked myself here, realizing all at once:

The one person in my life close enough to hurt me, who could have done it by now, _multiple times,_ yet she could not, chose not to, would not, and refused to—even if it meant shattering herself, and breaking her own heart over and over again: Ashley made the constant, conscious decision to put me first on this realistic pedestal, this optimistic throne of her heart and her mind. Not out of any lesser impulse to be less _real_ with me. Not out of fear of pushing me away necessarily, for her own self-preservation, as her self-sabotaging habits had proven, working against her anyway, even at the worst of times.

Ashley made the choice to love me with every drop of her devotion, bleeding herself to death for me.

Still trying to straighten myself, I clamped my arms around my head, unable to run away anymore.

She was the one, the only one, and I had dismissed her, I had ignored her, I had judged her, I had made up reasons to hate her, I had gone to someone else to distract myself from her, I had lied to her, I had lied to her, I had lied to her; I had broken her heart all before she could truly express herself to me once.

And even after all that…still she chose to love me anyway. She chose not to give up on me anyway.

Ashley chose to keep her promises to me; and I couldn't apologize properly without breaking her trust.

Shut away, locked away, alone and isolated in this reality, I didn't jump, I didn't fall, and I didn't land in grace and with control, augmented in a halo and in complete confidence over my guaranteed survival.

I spiraled down and down and down in love her, all the way down, without Ashley in my arms this time.

Endless black of this abyss with no end in sight, I heaved for breath without breathing. I couldn't make up for any of this; I couldn't hold her and make this right again…not directly. It was all my fault. I'd fucked up. I should've stayed away for my own sake. And now…it was too late.

Now that I needed Ashley the most, I couldn't go to her. Not literally, not figuratively; somewhere in the depths of my intuition, her own intoxication kept up a barrier of her own, unintentional, since she needed her space, and so _of course_ she didn't want to be bothered. _She needed her space._ Right when I needed to take care of her in the ways she had shared, she needed to be alone, separate from me.

So separate from me—right when this free-fall began in me, uncontrollable.

So separate from me—right when I needed to be completely unprotected, in heaven deep inside of her.

I learned from her, seeing the obvious—that it was my turn to follow in her footsteps, and to learn how to love her instead of only feeling it or saying it. Holding her close, and making the conscious choice to do it; putting her first, and making the conscious choice to do it; staying faithful to her, and making the conscious choice to do it; falling into her, so much deeper, and breathing through her, and making the conscious and unconscious choice to do it, to risk absolutely _everything_ for her no matter how badly she might've hurt me—and _even if she chose to walk away_ , leaving me broken, and abandoning me with this love for her and with no way to give it to her anymore, just like I was afraid of, just like I was afraid of—

And I had no place left to run. I had nothing left to protect myself with. _Nothing._

Only a mask to wear at night, until the sun eventually rose over the scent of her stuck in me.


	13. Good Enough

" _The Town" by The Weeknd_

 **XIII.** Good Enough

_(Ashley Madeline Williams)_

Sinking lower, lower into this blue, the bottom so much deeper than I should've been able to tolerate; eyes shut to this pressure, I held my breath, pockets of air leaving me as natural; sinking to my lowest, on purpose, for the sport of it, I almost tasted the chlorine in my mouth, washing out that _other,_ that _curiosity;_ sinking to the absolute depths of this space, the pressure mounted right in my chest, agonizing as my entire body kept collapsing down here, on my knees at the end of this extreme, willing to do anything, absolutely anything for the sun clouded behind the skies graying way above, way overhead:

Opening my eyes to this waving sapphire, the gleaming light up above formed the illusion I wanted.

Passing through the open door that led out here to me, I could've sworn I saw her.

Walking over to me, finally choosing me after she'd already done it before—lesser, not as much—I thought I could see Shepard there, coming to me at last, coming to me with her full self, her whole heart, without running away from me anymore, willing to take me in after so long, after all this _time._

Unrivaled in her height over all, undisputed in her rays of influence, I felt my chest fill with the promise of this mirage as my oxygen, undulating in the clouded light outside, from her sunlight, everywhere.

Leaving these depths, I pushed my entire body up, through this pressure to chase after her, through this blue that could've overcome me, up through these lows that should've gotten the best of me long ago.

I refused.

Too stubborn.

Stubborn enough to break back up to this surface of the swimming pool I was in, gasping for breath.

Slicking my hair out of the way from my face, I blinked the water from my eyes.

Like a sudden, unscheduled sunset, Shepard wasn't there anymore—as if she ever had been in the first place.

She hadn't walked through the door in my sights now: the one leading back into the hotel I stayed in with the others during this sudden, unscheduled trip to sunny San Diego back on Earth. We were back in her hometown of all places, and Shepard wasn't here. We were supposed to stay here for the rest of shore leave—however long it was going to last for—and yet she hadn't done anything with me here.

This luxury, five-star hotel, the US Grant, was massive, renovated and raised to match the rest of the city's architecture, even though it still had traces of those early twentieth century roots at the foundation. All the restaurants, spa treatments, and other amenities the place had reminded me of a golden version of the Presidium on the Citadel—but the interior looked just like the outside of this city.

Dark tint of the rain clouds shadowing the skies above, I faced that irony as I floated on my back over the water's surface. Staring up at this sunless forecast, I couldn't know what was true anymore.

Here I was, swimming in the rooftop pool of this amazing hotel so high above the ground, surrounded by even taller skyscrapers, all overlooking the nearby shores along this Coronado Island in the main city of San Diego itself. This place's sunny reputation persisted even on a day like this, spreading its tourism through the air and the architecture instead.

Pale golden colors, deep honey golds, and yellow lighting, everywhere: that golden halo from Shepard's augmentation _was_ San Diego itself, no matter the time of day or night. Black and chrome buildings stood tall with those golds shining through the windows, shining as the street lamps, to offset how harsh everything seemed, softening the town, the entire city with this ultramodern, otherworldly feel to it.

And the people, their fashion: they dressed with that same black and chrome, like their clothes were the buildings themselves, harsh and intimidating, but still so mesmerizing—exactly like her, exactly like her.

This town was so beautiful, like a paradise of everlasting light in the middle of a metropolis.

So damn beautiful, and Shepard chose to leave me by myself in this hotel with the others.

She had set her omni-tool's status to _unavailable_ as soon as we'd touched down here.

Any emails I sent her, she only sent me back short, abrupt responses, like she didn't know what to say.

Something was going on here. I needed to find out exactly what.

But first I had to burn off this energy. Otherwise, I might've blown up at her. Even I knew that now was the absolute wrong time for that.

Swimming _wasn't_ going to cut it. Not while I kept seeing things like this, these mirages.

Hauling myself up and out of the pool, this loud falling of the water off from my body made me think back to Thessia, back to the mall Shepard had taken us to. Those waterfalls, so gorgeous, just like she was; that lighting, so perfect, just like she was, no matter how much she pissed me off when she ran back into her shell like this. I dried myself off, still soaked with the memory of how incredible she was, soaking more over the way no one could compare to her, ever, flaws and all.

That unbreakable scowl of hers was a crown for all I knew, glittering in the golden brown of her skin.

No one could take it from her, just like no one could take her from me.

Leaving back inside to the hotel with my towel wrapped around me, I knew that Shepard was at that point with me, too. I knew she had reached some kind of place where she couldn't leave. I knew she wouldn't let herself sit still with me, to enjoy this feeling with me, or bask in this pain and all with me.

Her throne from me was here in my heart—

Waiting for her to stop running away from me.

Waiting for her to sit there, for me to adore her, forever.

If _I_ waited for her without moving, we wouldn't get anywhere. I knew that, and I liked it. I liked that Shepard needed someone to admire her before she would move from her vantage point. I liked that she wouldn't admit it. I liked that she wanted and needed all of these things that were so obvious to me. Just because I couldn't look away. Just because I couldn't quit her. Just because she was human, even if I did see her in this light, immortal in how mortal she was, how she never wanted anyone to see her fall.

I couldn't feel my own feet on the ground anymore, thinking about her like this again.

I needed to keep myself together.

I had to keep it together.

I couldn't get lost in my own head while Shepard was _still_ acting like I didn't mean this much to her.

Passing through this hallway that looked like the rest of the city, indoors, I made it back to my room here at the topmost floor. I unstuck these soaking wet clothes from off of me, changing into my running gear. I used my omni-tool to track a course through the island we were on, across the beach, and back again. Should've taken me about half an hour without stopping.

That wasn't enough time, really. I had enough pent-up energy to keep running all day and night.

But today was the last day of this monthly cockblocking, and I didn't want to overdo it. Even though I somehow didn't have any cramps—and I hadn'thad _any_ in months _,_ not since Shepard started seriously talking to me—I still had a headache instead, on top of Shepard confusing the hell out of me. For once, I couldn't just ram my head against this problem with her and find a solution. She kept resisting me.

I thought against emailing her again.

She probably wouldn't have responded. Or at least not with anything I wanted to hear.

Heading back out again, I passed by the open door to Tali's room. She was rooming with _my favorite person,_ who wasn't here in the hotel at all. I actually hadn't seen her since we got here, not once. Now that I thought about it, I hadn't seen Kaidan in a while, too. He mentioned he had some kind of business to take care of over on the main Alliance Navy base here on this island. That must've been why Shepard had us come here, aside from her probably feeling homesick. But why didn't they just say so earlier?

Here, Tali was in her room, talking to Garrus. I ignored her, too, and kept on walking. Tali had some kind of problem with me, but she wouldn't tell me anything about it. So she leaned on Garrus and her _other friend_ instead of being straight-up with me, like she just expected me to beg for her forgiveness.

Some best friend _she_ was.

I wasn't going to kiss her ass over this. I'd already tried asking her five times what the problem was!

She couldn't respect me enough to have a real conversation? Then she could get over it on her own.

In the common room, Joker and Wrex sat together, watching TV, drinking. For some reason, they had it on the news: about Cerberus, those damned terrorists who used to be Alliance black ops. Their priorities _and_ their methods were way fucked up! _The advancement and preservation of humanity…_ Yeah, right.

I walked faster to the elevator nearby, hoping Wrex and Joker wouldn't notice me.

I started to slow down, though, once I got this weird feeling.

Like I was being watched. Like the walls had eyes somehow, tracking every single thing I did.

Like someone was around here somewhere, watching _all of us,_ the whole team, and not just me.

"Hey, Chief!" called Wrex, slurring a bit. "Where are _you_ going, huh? Get over here…and have a drink!"

Joker stumbled over here first with his beer, asking, "Ash, seriously…where's the fire? Or…are _you_ the fire? _Oh-ho-ho,_ I got you there, huh…?" He gestured in victory to the common room—bowing to no one and nothing here except for the few hotel workers walking by. "I'll be here all night, folks. All night!"

I mashed the down button on the elevator.

Wrex staggered this way, holding yet another bottle of Ryncol. "Hey, hey, what's…this? What's goin' on?" he asked, swerving around, his tail bobbing up and down. "Chief…you all right? Are you…okay?"

"Yeah, you don't look so hot," added Joker. "Wait… _that_ came out wrong… I mean, you look hot—goddamn, Ashley, you're _always_ hot. You're a real babe…ten out of ten. Don't tell Shepard I said that; she'll kill me… But, like… You're not… _doing_ so hot. Is that—is that it? What do we win, what do we win?"

"You know what _I_ wanna win?" said Wrex, drinking again. "Credits. Money! How's Shepard paying for our rooms and all our food…out of her own pocket? This hotel is great! She sure is loaded…"

Joker cackled, saying, "Dude, the commander's PACKING! Didn't we tell you how she made all those creds? 'Cause there's no way it's from her officer's salary… No, no way, it's like, _way more_ than that… You don't remember? We told you…" He ribbed me. "C'mon, Ash, _you know_ what I'm talking about!"

Why'd they have to pick _now_ to start harassing me like this?!

Once the elevator doors opened, I hurried inside.

Wrex and Joker somehow fit themselves through with me right before the doors could close again.

On the way down to the lobby, though, they couldn't handle the downward motion. Joker clung for dear life against the thin railing wrapped around the elevator. Wrex hunkered down and sat in place, groaning over the whole thing. They couldn't move; they couldn't get up. They expected me to help.

I knew if I said anything to them, _anything at all,_ I'd explode.

I just let them babble about whatever until we finally got to the lobby.

After what happened on Noveria, I almost hated elevators, too.

_Almost._

As soon as the doors opened, I hurried out, leaving Joker and Wrex to yell and complain after me, pretty much abandoned back there.

Well, they shouldn't have followed me.

But it was nice that they cared about me, even if they _were_ drunk like this during the middle of the day.

I made it outside to the busy city streets, running at a decent pace.

Following the traffic lights and the navigational system on my omni-tool, I tried to clear my head. I wanted to shut off my thoughts, stop thinking completely. But there was just no way. No way to focus on anything else except for this voice in my head, this feeling in my gut that something with Shepard wasn't right. I was pissed off at her; I was worried about her. I wanted to scream at her; I wanted to kiss her and make everything better. I wanted to go to her and make her tell me what the problem was, because I couldn't read her fucking mind and figure it out on my own.

And I knew where she was. I was just blowing too much hot air right now to go to her this very second.

All as a dumb distraction, I looked up to the giant television screens posted along the tall city buildings I passed by. The monitors overlooked the bustling crowd, showing a different broadcast from the Alliance News Network. Something about mysterious abductions out in the Terminus Systems, outside of Alliance jurisdiction. There was supposedly no specific pattern to these abductions, but it was enough to have people worried out there, forcing them to move back to Council Space almost against their will.

The Terminus Systems were damn-near lawless. Why were these people surprised? I felt bad for them and everything, having to pick up and move to a new home like this. But still. _Come on._

I ran harder once I made it to the beach, the piers here. I ran right through the sand along the shore line darkened by the ebb and flow of the ocean's water, of that perfect blue whispering across my path. The daylight of the city's buildings reflected against the water's surface, so clear and incredible and clean.

I couldn't even care that I had sand in my shoes.

Because, again, this place was so beautiful.

So beautiful, and I should've been here with Shepard. She should've been here, holding my hand while we took this sappy, cliché walk across the beach. She should've been here, getting to show me off to all the other couples roaming around. She should've been here, showing me around the town, around the city. She should have been here with me instead of wallowing in her loneliness for no good reason.

Maybe that reason was good enough for her. It wasn't good enough for me.

I finally felt like I was good enough—in life, for work, with Shepard—and then she did this.

My lungs burned from my efforts, making my throat bleed from how hard I pushed myself.

Then all of a sudden, a bunch of different alerts sounded to my omni-tool all at the same time.

I slowed down to a stop here on the shore of the beach, catching my breath. Filling my lungs with air to help stop this burning, I hurried to check my alerts—if this was from Shepard, if she was okay, if she needed me.

The first thing— _not from Shepard_ —was some vid-mail from Sarah, my sister.

Normally I would've been happy to hear from her.

She seriously had the worst timing.

But I decided to go sit down on the beach anyway, to listen to this. It wasn't like I could ignore her. She _was_ my baby sister, after all.

I put my headphones in, listening to the message.

Hearing Sarah's voice again, I couldn't believe how she was almost all grown-up now.

Sixteen years old, about to graduate from her high school over on Amaterasu soon: she was way more advanced than I was at her age. Aside from how smart she was, I loved that she was still quiet, and that she kept to herself even though she had plenty of friends, only opening up to me. Made it easier to accept how fast she was growing up—even now, I was still caught off-guard by the sound of her voice. She sounded like a normal sixteen-year-old girl, with normal sixteen-year-old thoughts and worries.

It just made me remember that Sarah had the freedom to be free at her age. I hadn't had that same freedom when I was that young, and I still resented it sometimes.

I smiled a little, though, listening to Sarah tell me all about her girlfriends at school and what she was up to with them. They were head-over-heels about some new movie that was out. Mom hated that she was into it—some reboot of a love triangle with werewolves and sparkly vampires?—and refused to take her to the movies. So she had to sneak out with her friends to catch the midnight showing last night.

I smiled more over how much she trusted me, willing to tell me pretty much anything, and knowing that I'd keep it all a secret for her.

Even though I'd hated her before, years back, Sarah and I did end up bonding the most. I wasn't as close to Abby and Lynn, not anymore—they were off doing their own thing in their late-teens and early-twenties now—so it was nice to still have this kind of bond with the youngest in the family.

Then, at the very end, Sarah really threw me off:

"— _oh, before I go. You said you're serving with Commander Shepard, right? Think you told me a few months ago. We saw her on the news here. I had no idea she was so pretty! You remember Alex? She has a girlfriend in college. Anyway, Alex thinks the commander's a lesbian! Something about the 'vibe' she gives off, even in a vid. Is it true? Do you know? What's she like in-person? You should tell me! Later, sis."_

_Oh, God…_

I filed Sarah's message into my I-totally-didn't-get-your-vid-for-some-reason folder, hoping she'd forget.

The next thing— _not from Shepard_ —was a notification from the team's chat room: a private message.

And it actually made me smile a lot, since this was so unexpected.

I decided to reply back in real-time, continuing the conversation while I sat here on the beach:

_[13:50:01] Wrex: Chief, you RAN off… Are YoU OKay? Sorry im drunk_

_[14:02:43] Me: Hey, Wrex. Thanks for asking. Sorry for leaving you earlier. I went out for a run, that's all._

_[14:04:21] Wrex: AHAHAHA, RUNNING. You RAN. To go RUN. Thats funny, your funny… NoT foolNG ME tho… YoU hv been angery for someWHILE now… Why?_

_[14:05:41] Me: If you really wanna know, it's that time of the month, Wrex. You know how women are when we're like this. It's not a big deal…_

_[14:06:30] Wrex: I DO knoW… EnouGH to know…yoU are REAL mad…sad? Is this abt SHEPARD_

_[14:09:34] Me: What makes you think this is about her?_

_[14:10:13] Wrex: HAHA i win… YoU adMIT the Truth…_

_[14:10:40] Wrex: Sorry shldn laugh…did not thnk youd tell me_

_[14:11:58] Wrex: Want to tell You… Chief. NO… Ash. Ashley, you BATTLE, COMPETE! SHEPARDS boNd w BLUE is True… may be yOU are sad frm Fight… but i see HiGHR Truth… SHEPARD cares…for YOU not BLUE_

_[14:12:30] Me: Wrex, that's super sweet of you to say… Why are you telling me this?_

_[14:12:57] Wrex: Lt me EXPln_

_[14:16:35] Wrex: At cluB we shared Talks… SHEPARD is difrnt now. Shes My Frend. Not frends befoRe. OpEN Heart Open Mind, NEW things for YOU. Still HARDENED WARrior. She Will defend you, Defeat PLANETS for you. I saW in hr eyes, she looks at yoU special and reAL… Not jusT to TRY…_

_[14:17:01] Me: Wait a minute…what do you mean? Are you saying…?_

_[14:19:45] Wrex: SHEPARD wnts to protecT you… Real KROGAN MEN provide for VULnbl females… hard WORK! EmOTIons, we MEN hide… FEAr…failure… Struggle! GenoFAGE VIOLENCE in MIND. She run?_

_[14:23:31] Me: …I think so. Now that you mention it, I think she's scared…of how much she does want to take care of me. Struggling, like you said. I have no idea how I know you're right. She won't talk to me… It's serious. She has to be running away. Maybe she's hiding her emotions the way guys do, like she thinks I'll look down on her for being weak… I just wish she'd trust me with this. I'm scared she'll change her mind if it's too much for her. If she leaves me, I don't know what I'll do… I've been hurting a lot._

_[14:24:45] Wrex: Chief ASHLEY, dnt be sad… YoU are SHEPARDS clan chief! YOU sit on her ThrOne… SHE Will defeND YouR HONOR anD PRIDE! Provide for YOU! GloRy to CLAN ASHLEY of EARTH!_

_[14:26:31] Me: Wrex, if you weren't so drunk right now, I'd go back to the hotel and give you a hug… Thanks a lot. I seriously needed to hear that. You have no idea…_

_[14:27:56] Wrex: HAHAHA GOOD, claN chief happy! OKaY again now?_

_[14:28:46] Me: Yeah, I'll be okay. At least until I can talk to her again. I'll remember what you said…about her providing for me. I know she wants to do it. I guess I need her so much, I'm impatient…_

_[14:30:12] Wrex: Be STRONG! Give Time… OutSIDE Time? Are You running again_

_[14:33:17] Me: If you mean I'm going to finish my run, then yeah. I should. Shepard probably does need some time. Will you be okay, drinking with Joker? You've really been knocking them back lately…_

_[14:35:56] Wrex: InSPIRED by you, Ashley… DrinK on shore leave, ENJOY… Stop AFTER… Promise!_

_[14:37:43] Me: If you're sure… Just try to be careful. Thanks again for messaging me, Wrex. This is the best surprise I've had all day. I'm here if you need anything. You're such a sweet friend._

_[14:38:56] Wrex: AHAHA Good Frends, good Talk… SLEEP now… Then HAPPY HOUR w Joker Garrus Tali! See LATER_

_[14:40:29] Me: Yeah, definitely. Get some sleep for now. Have fun at happy hour! See you around._

By the time I closed his conversation, I realized that my face hurt from smiling so much.

Next to Shepard herself, Wrex had to be the other big softy on the team. I'd had no idea he cared like that—about anything, and not just me. Sure, he was a lot of fun to hang around, and he never seemed like he was down or upset. I'd spent these months working next to him on the ship, fighting alongside him during missions, and not once did I notice him let his guard down. Aside from his crazy drinking habits, I never would've known much about what was on his mind, what he struggled with.

As for what he guessed about, there was no doubt in my mind that Wrex was right.

Shepard only avoided things when she was scared. And it was harder to pull her back now because we were here, because I knew she wouldn't tell me _why_ we were here. If this was about her being at home, then she would've taken me out on a date by now. We would've been fine.

I was glad I hadn't given her my answer right away—when she'd asked me to be with her the other day.

If she'd started acting like this while we were actually a couple, I would've struggled way harder. Even now, I could barely breathe without her… Was it the same for her, too? _Did she_ need me like this…?

Struggling, still. Struggling with how much she needed me to need her…maybe, maybe not.

Speaking of struggles, I checked my last omni-tool alert to see what it was about…

My heart sank as I read the words there on-screen.

Because, again, I'd had no idea…

_From: Kaidan – Hey there._

_Ashley,_

_How are you doing today? Hope all is well._

_Hell of a time we had back on Thessia, huh? I'll never forget it. You really helped me out of a tight spot…at least for a little while. There's just some things we can't avoid, you know?_

_I haven't been doing too well for a long time now. Goes back years. Came up again with the Thorian. Couldn't keep avoiding it. Shepard ordered me to see a counselor. I didn't want to go to the Citadel; didn't want to risk the others finding out. That's why we're in San Diego. I'm on the main Alliance base._

_I was honest with the counselor I spoke to. Completely honest. A hundred percent._

_And, well…I had to get myself checked in. I'm at the hospital now, here on the base._

_Sorry I didn't tell you about this stuff sooner. Must be a shock. I was…ashamed. Embarrassed. Couldn't admit to myself how deep this goes, let alone to another person. Despite all that's happened between us, I still consider you a good friend. And I'm sorry for that, too. For the mess I caused you in the past. I made the wrong call with what you tried to tell me in confidence. I'll always regret hurting you like that._

_I was wondering, if you're free, do you think you could stop by for a visit? I'm not in a psych ward or anything—don't worry. I'm in the primary ward for biotics, room 203. Let me know if I'll get to see you today. If you can't make it, I'll understand._

_Just please don't tell anyone… I don't think I could handle it right now if they knew._

_-Kaidan_

.

_To: Kaidan – Re: Hey there._

_Kaidan,_

_I'm so sorry you're going through all this. It's haunted you for a long time, huh? I had no idea…_

_This day's been pretty up and down for me. Sounds like it's nothing compared to what you're dealing with. I don't have room to be selfish here. I'm more worried about you._

_Sorry I didn't respond sooner. And I'm sorry about before, too. For…lying to you. For not trusting you completely. Something tells me you knew I lied to your face about what my problem was… We'll talk it over when I get there, okay? I won't say a word to the others about this. Thanks for trusting me._

_I'm on my way now. Room 203—I'll be there soon._

_-Ashley_

* * *

Today was the worst day to find out that public transportation in San Diego was bullshit.

Basically non-existent, really, aside from way-too-crowded taxis and rapid transit systems, and only a handful of monorail lines that led to everywhere _except_ where I needed to go. The Alliance Navy base here in Coronado was supposed to be a major part of the city. So why did I have to take the 'rapid' transit in bumper-to-bumper traffic, just to end up running across a long ass pier to get over here?

To top it all off, it finally started raining while I was on the pier, getting me _just_ wet enough, but not too much to drench me. It was a nice view, though, jogging across the sights of the rest of the peninsula in a hazy mist of soaking gold. With these darker rain clouds brooding over the skies, the buildings all looked so much gloomier, beaming out those golden lights anyway despite the mood going on.

I made it inside the Alliance base as soon as the rain decided to really pour down. The familiar sterile blue, silver, and white of this place felt like home again, somehow. Checking in through security, no one seemed to mind that I was here on a secure station in my wet running gear, even while they were all in the blues of their casual fatigues, armor, or formal uniforms. Actually, while I was going through the decontamination system—getting that sweat, and sand, and most of the rain off of me—the security officers recognized my credentials, and me, since I served on Commander Shepard's team…

I escaped them before they could trap me in small-talk about what Shepard was like in-person, making my way over to the hospital. One tram ride across the length of this gigantic place and a few elevators later, I made it to the lobby of the hospital with a gift shop kiosk. Browsing through the kiosk for something to pick up for Kaidan, I spotted more soldiers who recognized me, murmuring to each other.

For once in my life, I didn't feel anyone judging me for being Ashley _Williams_ , for being General _Williams'_ granddaughter, forcing the shame of his surrender to the turians during the war onto me.

For the first time, I felt them wondering about me in interest because I was on Commander Shepard's team, leaving my family's reputation behind. Her greatness had overshadowed the dark history I'd walked around with every day, shielding me and protecting me from that stupid gossip I was so used to by now. Her legendary status seemed to lift me out of that darkness, letting the rest of these perfect strangers in the Alliance actually see me for who and what I really was.

From what little I overheard, they seemed impressed with me—because if Shepard had picked me to serve with her, then I had to be something special. I was good enough for her; I was more than good enough for them. And so the old Williams Curse had finally started to lose its grip over me.

If they only knew that it was Captain Anderson who'd assigned me to the _Normandy_ first, all by chance…

If it had been up to Shepard at the time, she probably would've left me back on Eden Prime, full-stop.

Still, my fellow soldiers, strangers as they were, had stopped judging me for my family, for my name, for my ancestors' history and actions—for the things I couldn't control. They stopped underestimating me.

They judged me by my work instead…even if it _was_ mostly by association for now…

And then, Shepard's speech to the Council during her Spectre induction came flooding back to me, almost making me tear up in the middle of this lobby. She'd made them judge her by her work, too.

I had been emotional at the time, too, feeling so proud of her.

I never did get the chance to tell her how much, or to congratulate her properly. It was too late now…

I settled on a box of Canadian lager for Kaidan. Since he was from Vancouver, I figured he'd like it.

No idea why a hospital had _beer_ available in the gift shop, though.

I brought the beer with me to the elevator anyway, heading up to the second floor, the biotic ward. Aside from the few mechanical sounds from the hospital's equipment sounding in a lulling quiet, it was so silent up here. I felt a little self-conscious in my running gear, practically sneaking past the handful of doctors who didn't pay me much mind. The one or two patients I did see in the hall, they were escorted by their nurses, their heads and bodies probed and tubed by a bunch of biotic blue piping all around them. They _looked_ like they were fine, but their speech was slurred, like they were high on pain meds to help them escape the pain from those tubes, from whatever process they were going through.

I hoped Kaidan wasn't going through anything like that…

Besides, from his email, it sounded like his mental health wasn't the best—not his biotics.

Unless the two were linked somehow, and that was why he was here in this ward now.

At room 203, the door opened for me right away. Kaidan was there in the decent-sized room, lying in a bed, looking out the rainy, full-picture windows overlooking this stunning view of the island, the ocean. Thankfully, he looked okay—he didn't have those…tubes or anything. He was just loosely wired to a couple of normal machines: one monitoring his heartrate, the other one monitoring his biotic implants.

Checking the clock on the wall, I saw that it was only 4:00pm—1600 hours.

For this brief moment as I walked in, I caught that depression in Kaidan's eyes as he gazed out the window, out to the rest of the town—so heavy, so lonely, I saw a deep emptiness there in him, one that I'd only caught glimpses of before.

He pushed all of that away once he saw me, just like always, smiling brightly.

"Hey, Ash, good to see you," he greeted. "Glad you could make it."

"Hey, LT," I said, heading over to the chair beside his bed. "Sorry it took me so long… Traffic was terrible. How's it going? Not bored or anything, are you?"

Kaidan pointed to the TV on the opposite wall. "It's not so bad. I'm keeping up with the news, catching up on some shows." He noticed the box I set down on the table next to him. "Ash, no way. Is that…?"

"Yep," I replied. "Some good old Canadian lager for you! Think you mentioned once that you like this. Or—did I remember wrong? I mean, you're _from_ Canada, so I figured…"

Laughing, Kaidan patted the box in fondness. "No, it's great!" he insisted. "I love this kind, actually. One of my favorites. Thanks a lot. I really appreciate it. I'll try and sneak some when I can." He gestured to the chair. "Please, take a seat if you'd like. Still wanted to have that talk with you… I don't necessarily want to bog the mood down with my issues. I mostly wanted to clear the air between us—you know."

I sat down at his side, subdued now.

And even though _he_ was the one in pain here, Kaidan chose to lead things:

"So, way back when, we had that talk," he reminded me. "Back when the team thought you hated them. Back when…they kinda had a _reason_ to think that, since, well, you had your own reasons. I know you fed me that story about you being in love with your old boyfriend. In the moment, I did believe you…"

Anxious, I prompted him anyway, "But…?"

Kaidan continued, "The truth is, it didn't take long for me to put two and two together, to realize you weren't being honest with me. Think I went behind your back and told Tali out of spite, not just to fix your friendship with her. And…I'm sorry for that."

"I'm sorry, too," I repeated, from our emails. "Then again, you ended up doing the right thing. That's what helped the others come around. There was no way I was going to tell them the truth on my own."

Kaidan nodded, wistful. "I guess even the right choices have consequences, huh?"

"Yeah, that's true," I agreed. "I'm sorry I lied to you, though. Up until then, you had always been so nice to me. I should've trusted you. The whole truth was…pretty hard for me to deal with at the time."

"I figured it was something like that."

"How'd you know I was lying?" I asked. "What gave me away? Or…did you have a feeling?"

Kaidan grinned and said, "Ashley, I always knew you liked Shepard. From the very start, back when we rescued you from the geth on Eden Prime. From the second I watched you lay eyes on her, there was this hidden thing somewhere in you. No clue if the commander noticed, so to speak. I felt something from her, too. You know how hard she is to read, even today. It's still there for her."

"Are you serious?!"

"Yeah, I'm serious."

I had to rationalize this: "I get that I'm not the best with subtlety and all, but… _Shepard?_ She's said a few times now that she sensed something in me on Eden Prime. When she told me again a few days ago, I didn't believe her. I thought she was just saying it to say it, since we were kind of in a fight at the time."

"No, Ash, it's true," promised Kaidan. "I felt it a lot more once she pulled you back from the beacon. Like she _had_ to protect you at all costs. Think she cared about you already even then. I tried to talk to her about it after the mission, while we were on our way to the Citadel. I told her that you might like her—a lot. I couldn't tell if she really didn't care, or if she was covering it up somehow. Either way, she knew."

"This is…blowing my mind, Kaidan," I admitted, holding my head. "You knew all this time. And you didn't say anything to me about it. You didn't judge me or treat me any differently. _Shepard knew_ , too, even back then…and she didn't kick me off the ship. She only got mad at me once that drama started."

"Why didn't you confess to her sooner?" he wondered. "Or is that too personal?"

I sighed and said, "It was the regulations. And I was in the closet at the time. Too busy questioning, too busy staying in denial to protect myself. That's why I lied to you. I couldn't take the risk. Couldn't risk you telling anyone the whole truth, _especially_ not Shepard, not before I was ready. I mean, I _did_ want her to know. Just not like that… Plus, I'm technically still not out yet. Not all the way. My family doesn't know. I have no idea how I'm going to tell them."

Kaidan consoled me, "I understand. That's a lot of pressure to put on yourself. I knew you were hurting. I just wanted to help… And…you know the rest of the story." Thinking one last thing over, he hesitated, before sharing: "Well, mostly. There's something else. One final…secret, I guess. It was out of my control and all, but it's still eating away at me. It's part of why I never really recovered from the Thorian. The thing is, I'm not ready to share it with you today. I promise I will, later, once I'm better. If that's okay."

"Oh…sure," I accepted. "I understand, too. No pressure. Whenever you're ready to share, I'll be here."

That bright smile again, genuine. "Thanks, Ash. You're the best." And then his expression fell back down as he looked around the room, not able to escape the obvious. "But, yeah, about the Thorian… Ever since that day, the headaches from my L2 biotic implants have been getting out of control. That on top of my mental health not being so great, it's—a terrible mix, to say the least. I'm gonna need to take some new meds to deal with this, otherwise…well, who knows what'll happen…"

Brightening a bit in optimism, I asked him, "So you just need those new meds from your doctor? Once you get them, you can come back to the hotel with us?"

Kaidan winced and said, "Unfortunately, there's only a limited amount of meds I can take with these L2 implants in the way. Anything I _could_ take, it'd just help me in the short-term. For right now. To help me get through the rest of the mission. That might not be enough for me. I don't know."

"What's the alternative, then?"

"The alternative…is that I go through the procedure to get my L2s taken out and replaced with L3s. I can get it covered with my benefits no problem. But it's more of a…long-term solution. I'd have to go through all kinds of therapy just to get used to the retrofits, and that's _before_ getting back on my feet again. I can safely take the proper meds the whole time once my L2s are gone in that case. My biotics wouldn't be as powerful afterward, you know, since the L2s spike higher than the L3s. The L3s are _safer,_ though."

"So…with the short-term solution, you could come back with us," I summarized. "There's a risk that you won't really get better. You can continue on with the mission, though. And the long-term solution will _definitely_ help you get better…"

"…but I wouldn't be able to stay on with you guys for the mission," finished Kaidan. "I'd have to go through the operation, the therapy. The Alliance will want to send me to HQ up in Vancouver, too. They have the proper facilities for this kind of thing over there. And I'd at least get to see my parents again."

So selfish of me: I had _just_ started being friends with Kaidan again, and now…

Pained over this choice he had to make, I had to know: "Have you decided what you'll do yet?"

"I haven't, actually. I asked Shepard if she could come by. Gave her permission to talk to my doctor, look through my files, the test results so far. I can't make this decision alone. I need her to help me out."

"Good call… If anyone can be impartial about things like this, it's her."

Kaidan noticed, "Why do you sound sad about that?"

Hiding away a little, I told him, "Kaidan, we might have to say goodbye to you. How could I _not_ be sad?"

"This isn't only about me, Ash. Before I came here, I noticed you were in a mood. This about her?"

I must have been terrible at hiding my temper when I was like this.

First Wrex and Joker. Now Kaidan.

And now, it pissed me off all over again that Tali probably knew I was upset. She chose to hold a grudge against me regardless. If she was seriously _this jealous_ about Shepard and me, then I'd have to reconsider how much I cared about her as my so-called best friend. Somehow, I didn't think that was right, but she seemed not to care about whether or not I jumped to that wrong conclusion anyway.

But, back to this—"Yeah, it is. Shepard's not speaking to me for some reason. I can only guess what's wrong with her. Ever since her birthday, that night out, she's been…really distant. Like, we played her video games together while we were still on Thessia. We were fine, even though she was quieter than usual. Then, as soon as we got here yesterday, she just—bailed. Left me at the hotel, no explanation."

"Hmm, that's odd," said Kaidan. "What do you think changed? She seemed mostly okay to me, too."

Even after my talk with Wrex, and how sure I had been about this, I still… "I don't know for certain. I don't know… It's making me crazy."

"Well, you must have a _feeling._ What's your gut say? Your intuition."

Thinking back to how Shepard was yesterday and the day before, she was _quiet,_ yeah…but in such a specific way. Like she was holding something back. Because even when she did touch me, she was so…gentle about it. Overwhelmed, and restraining herself. Overpowered by me, somehow, even though I wasn't doing anything to her. We _couldn't_ do anything at the time. This wasn't about sex, though.

She'd dropped her confidence with me somewhere.

She had lost it, somehow.

Without that confidence of hers, Shepard was way more vulnerable with me, and—

"Kaidan…"

Kaidan sat up in his bed more, alarmed by me. "Yeah…?"

I stared off at nothing, looking straight through the streams of raindrops slipping down the window.

That golden city fogged over by the charcoal of the dark rain clouds, and the scowling buildings of black illuminated by that gold, by those sunrays beaming through only as electricity, unnatural.

That light lit up a brief vision through my head, like ones I had seen before, still faint and obscure:

_Somewhere, somehow—at some point in time, not that long ago, maybe from yesterday—I sensed Shepard bathed in that golden glow in comfort…at home, sitting on her bed, heartbroken over her anguish. Blue lights with her in her bedroom, speaking, understanding her well, and without judgment._

_I saw Shepard gripping her head, shaking her head, speaking to that blue, "I know what we talked about… I know what I said, what we_ should _do, getting into trouble while we still can… But I can't. I can't! I can't hurt her like this. It would be too_ involved. _I can't break her heart again, I swear…"_

_That understanding, indistinct, "That is perfectly fine with me, Shepard. You know I understand…"_

" _I don't want to hurt you, either," expressed Shepard, clearer. "I shouldn't have said what I did."_

" _Do I look hurt to you?"_

" _No… I'm sorry, anyway. A lot's…changed with me. I can't keep making the same old mistakes."_

" _You needn't worry," said the other voice, unnatural. "Spending this time with you is enough."_

Unnatural, back in reality: my family would think it was _unnatural_ if a woman—if _Shepard_ and I ever…

Finding my breath through this fog, I shook my head, shook those fantasies with her away, _and_ these weird visions of those two that I didn't understand. "I still don't have a clue. Honestly, all I can come up with is what _I_ want. What _I_ _want_ the explanation to be. Not what it might be, or what it actually is."

Kaidan challenged me, "Then what do you want the reason to be, Ash? What _do_ you want?"

"What I _want…_ is for her to love me," I admitted, staring out to the rain again. "I want Shepard to be _in love_ with me. I want her to stop holding back! I want this whole phase to just be—her defense mechanisms. Like she can't handle how strong her feelings are for me. I want her to take me in anyway."

Nodding in wisdom, he pointed out, "You're really passionate about her, you know. It's no wonder she's into you, too. Sounds to me like you push her into new territory all the time. Must be tough for someone like her who's not used to budging like that. How do you see all of this?"

"Kaidan, real talk: she's a god in my eyes. She's the sun, she's everything to me, but she's still… _real._ She's spent her whole life shutting everyone and everything out. It's like her heart's been—frozen. I can give her so much more than that. I can make her feel so much more. _Way more_ than anyone else can."

"You can give her something to live for."

Absolute confidence in this passion: "Yes, I will."

"Then go for it," encouraged Kaidan. "Don't let her distance stop you. Besides, I bet she secretly likes how…unshackled you are. Unrestrained, unlike her. You won't give up. I think she needs that from you."

Smiling over his insight, I agreed, "Totally. I'm glad you see it, too. Thought I was seeing things—"

The door opened, and in walked Shepard, her sharp mood sheathing right through the mood here.

She sheathed right through my earlier temper, too, cutting straight to my heart, bleeding more for her.

Black-and-white of her clothes, so different than the blue of her Alliance fatigues and the all-black of her N7 stealth suit—that thick, zipper-free white hoodie of hers looked so snug and clean and comfortable, almost like wearing a soft kid's blanket. Her black jeans looked just rugged enough, with those slightly washed-out spots of white-silver running down, the frayed edges near the bottom splicing out a bit from the run of her chrome-tinted combat boots running over her shins, doubling as rain boots for the day.

Shepard definitely liked simple, solid colors—white, black, blue, and maybe gray. Nothing too colorful.

The brilliance of her complexion, her eyes, and her hair as the golden brown sun were color enough.

For once, she didn't have her hair swept around to her shoulder in front of her. Instead, Shepard had it pushed all the way back across her head, spilling down her spine that way, as if she'd ruffled it like that out of nerves right before she got here. I had noticed a while back that she did that—running her nails through her hair, her scalp, to fan herself out whenever she was anxious about something.

She must have guessed that I'd be here.

Because when she looked at me, so full of gentle concentration, I found no surprise there in her eyes.

There was that _gentleness_ of hers, again…like all she wanted to do right now was hold me, protective.

"Hey, Commander," greeted Kaidan first, smiling again. "Good to see you."

Shepard regarded him with hard eyes. "Lieutenant," she responded, just as hard. "How are you doing?"

"I'm okay for now," he replied, not at all bothered by her mood. "Happy that you were able to make it."

And then she stepped over here, staring down at me sitting in this chair.

I knew I should've stood up out of respect for her as my commander. I knew I should have gone for it, given her a hug, kissed her— _anything._ There was something in her stare that arrested me here, that gentleness having shifted to something way more possessive…but still quiet. Still respectful. Still subliminal, and never overt or over-the-top, since that wasn't her style, unintentional or otherwise.

Instead, Shepard leaned down here to me. She wrapped her arms around my waist, behind me, arching me into her, higher. I had to stop myself from reacting too much from her touch, her subtle strength, draping my arms around her neck instead. Inhaling this smooth smell of her black chamomile scent, I closed my eyes against the white cotton fluff of her hoodie, of her shoulder. The moment she settled her lips over my neck, burning me in softness, I held her more, almost tangling her long hair in my arms.

Insulated in her, I practically fell away from the hospital room, from this base, from this town, from all.

Even more, way more once Shepard moved her lips to my ear, speaking so low, so deep in me, _"Hey."_

I shifted into her, so much more, feeling like she could've carried me away at any second now. "Hey…"

"You all right, babe?" she asked me, just as low, just as deep.

I moved my hand enough to hit at her chest, her shoulder.

_She should've known better._

Shepard laughed a little, _knowing._ "Sorry…"

I couldn't say anything, still…too pissed off in between everything else she did to me right now.

Pulling away to stand back up again, Shepard looked to Kaidan, and found him grinning at her.

Hardening back to her stoic professionalism, she talked to him, "I spoke with your doctor already. He showed me everything, explained everything. He said you want _me_ to decide. Are you sure about this?"

"I'm sure, Commander," replied Kaidan, completely certain. "My head's all fuzzy right now… Makes it hard to trust myself with a big decision like this. I want to stay on the team, finish up the mission first. I could relapse if I do that. So the long-term might be better instead. I don't know. I trust you to be impartial. Whatever you think is best, I'll go with your decision… What do you think I should do?"

Such a weight to her choice—Shepard stared down at the cold floor, arms folded as she considered this.

That coldness reflected her contemplation back up at her, reinforcing everything.

I watched her eyes as best as I could from here, studying the way she thought, and the way she judged.

And then Shepard regarded Kaidan again, resolute. "Lieutenant Alenko," she said. "I appreciate your service. You're a fine marine, and you've done an admirable job as my second-in-command during this operation. Your skills in combat as a sentinel, and as a biotic are invaluable to the team. But I want you to get better. No shortcuts, no cutting corners." Not having expected anything either way, Kaidan's eyes welled up a bit as he listened to her verdict: "Effective immediately, I'm relieving you from duty."

Kaidan lowered his head and nodded, sniffling a bit.

Even though she made perfect sense, this still stung…

"Make the transfer to Vancouver HQ. Go through the process and heal up as best as you can. Once you recover with your new meds and those L3 implants, I want you to come back to us. Understood?"

"Yes, I understand…"

Getting out of bed with his wires, he stood up with the weight of this judgment, facing her properly.

With the utmost respect, Kaidan saluted Shepard, straight and poised.

"Commander Shepard," he said, pushing his emotions back. "It's been an honor serving with you. I'm sorry I wasn't able to finish up the mission with you, with the team. You've inspired me to be my very best, and not only as a soldier. Knowing that you believe in me to recover from this, you've made me a better man. I'll never forget that. Thank you, Ma'am—for everything."

Shepard returned his salute, sharp with practice, letting that speak for her.

I stood up with them, not knowing what else to do.

Especially once Kaidan's doctor and nurse came into the room, like they figured, or they knew that he would have his answer ready by now—and so it was time for him to get started on his new journey.

 _Already,_ it was time to go, to say goodbye…

Kaidan smiled for me, holding his arms out. "Hey—come here, Ash," he comforted. "C'mon." Swelling with clairvoyance from this sudden, unexpected change, I gave him a hug. "Thanks again for being such a great friend to me. Let's stay in touch, all right? I'll be cheering you on while you take Saren down."

"Yeah—yeah, we'll stay in contact, for sure," I promised. "Email, vid-mail, whatever works best…"

"Great!" said Kaidan, letting us pull away. "Best of luck with everything, okay? I'll see you two…soon."

Shepard held my hand. "Take care, Kaidan," she told him. "See you soon."

Leaving his hospital room, I couldn't help feeling like so much had changed.

So much more, way more than I could see right now.

Like this would change _everything,_ somehow.

It took me a while to realize that Shepard still held my hand in hers, and that she had already led me to the parking complex linked to the base. Outside, the skies were darker with the later hour. Darker clouds with the pouring rain, the city's golden mist filtered through here as makeshift lighting, guiding our way.

On the way here, so many people must have stared at us while I was stuck in my head. So many people must have wondered about us—recognizing Shepard, recognizing me. So many people must have guessed that I was Shepard's girlfriend…

Not now, not yet.

I looked up at her, at the way Shepard existed in this honeyed steam, like it came from her somehow.

Looking down to me, she raised her brow, asking, "What's on your mind? I'm sure Kaidan will be fine."

"Won't you get in trouble?" I wondered. "Holding my hand at an Alliance base like this…"

"I found another loophole," she told me.

"What kind of loophole?"

"I'm a Spectre," stated Shepard. "I outrank everyone on this base. Technically, I only answer to the Council. Someone in the Alliance could still write me up. It wouldn't go anywhere, though. I'm the first human Spectre, so it's not like the human Alliance has any strict rules written down about this."

"I guess that makes sense," I accepted, still feeling like I wasn't all there. "Where are we going now?"

"We're going to my car first," she replied, looking me over: the tightness of my short-sleeved white shirt, the spandex my black pants, and my red running shoes. "Where were _you_ going before?"

"I…went for a run earlier, to blow off some steam. Then Kaidan emailed me, letting me know where he was. I didn't go back to the hotel to change out of my gear. I just came straight here."

I knew I should have grilled Shepard on what her silent treatment was all about.

Or not…a silent treatment.

Just…how she'd acted so strange, so out-of-character with me.

But I stayed quiet, because I couldn't ask her the things I _really_ wanted to know:

 _Do you love me, Shepard? Are you in love with me? Do you want to put me first, above_ everything _else?_

_Are you hiding it because you're afraid? Is it too much for you? Am I too much? Could we last together…?_

We stopped at the passenger side door of what I presumed was her luxury skycar parked here. Shining sheen of a chocolate brown paint job, shaped in a sharp elegance, and with soft-looking leather seats, this was way nicer than any other car I'd seen on the road in a long time. Through our reflections shining over the thick black of the tinted windows, I watched Shepard watching me, how I observed her car; how I took in just how far she'd come in life, having crawled out of that world of chaos on the streets.

Then she looked at me properly, gazing. I gazed right back at her, wanting.

"Ashley," whispered Shepard, filled with her confidence again, so sexy. "Come out with me tonight."

So natural for me to melt like this, for me to say, "I'd love to, Shepard… Where are you taking me?"

"You'll see."

I looked down at my clothes, self-conscious again. "But—wait, I'm not really dressed for this…"

"I've got you, babe," she reassured me. "Don't worry about that. I'll take care of you."

Shepard opened her car doors, automatic. Holding my hand up as part of this romantic ritual, she watched as I sat down over the comfort of this seat. A crisp, artificial smell of cinnamon hit right at the top of my nose, wrapping around me in warmth, like she had _just_ gotten her car washed, and replaced this flavor. Only once I was settled in did she let go of my hand, walking around to the driver's side.

I looked around, taking in the shine of her chrome dashboard, and the sunlit glow of her driver's panel and car controls lighting up the dark. So clean and orderly, Shepard had nothing out on the seats, on the floor—nothing, nowhere. Just this ambiance of absolute darkness, with the control panel and the golden glow from the city as the faint sunlight. She had only one backseat, unlike the rental car from Thessia, where I first learned about the sexy, subtle swagger Shepard had when she drove, almost like a guy.

She showed me when she held my hand again, starting the car. She turned her music back up, continuing from whatever song she had ended things on when she'd parked earlier: again, that bass of hers from this sultry, alternative R&B music I loved, just like what had played at the club she'd picked out for her birthday. Again, these trippy, chopped up beats, atmospheric echoes, falsettos, and sexy, explicit lyrics, still so tasteful; again, this loudness, so fun in how it took over my senses; and again, the feeling of the bass thundering through the sound system, drilling against my entire body in my seat.

Pulling out of the parking lot and returning to the rainy road in the skies, Shepard drove with that ease about her. Hooking my hand over her right leg—the one closest to me—she used her thumb to caress my skin in softness. Her free hand, she used to control her car, so free and easy. She had her seat leaned back just enough to relax without losing her focus, her concentration on the road, as she had somehow found a traffic-free path to take across the water, unlike the rapid transit I'd had to deal with earlier.

And this faint sunlight from the electric lights in here: they shone over her face and eyes, so beautiful.

Outside, the rain and the city's golden haze made the headlights and brake lights from the rest of the cars look like mere illusions.

_More mirages._

Still, the rain had really started to pour down out there. So much that the raining sounded through Shepard's music, adding to the bass almost. Her windshield wipers kept her sights clear enough, anyway.

I felt a slight chill from the drop in temperature finally hitting me.

Shepard glanced at me once as I shivered—only slight—before pressing a button over her control panel, turning the heater on for me, comforting right away. I smiled over her care, squeezing her hand a little in thanks. She did the same right back.

Soon, we arrived to a part of the city that had those swaying palm trees and resort-style places I'd expected. Not that Coronado wasn't nice, too—it just wasn't what I imagined San Diego looking like, aside from the beautiful beaches and the piers. There was something _more_ I hadn't gotten to see yet.

Reading Shepard's navigational system that I knew she wasn't paying attention to, I saw that this area was called Fashion Valley, and it showed:

The fancy cars here were way nicer, like hers. This place had more open spaces, more open plazas, more open designer stores on every block, and more open bars and restaurants that were a huge step-up even from the mall we went to before. The glamorous people walking around fit the stereotype, too: the human women standing out in their jewels and carrying designer purses, the human men with fine haircuts and expensive suits. They did it all while shielded under their umbrellas, still showing off.

All of this fit as its own valley ridged within the mountain pass across the horizon, so fashionable.

Shepard drove us to the Fashion Valley Mall itself, fitting in with the resort-like feel from everywhere else. More palm trees blooming in the rain, off-white and golden lights everywhere, and stores and restaurants built like exotic villas and palaces: I couldn't believe this was an actual _open mall_ , open to the skies and everything. I guessed since it never snowed in this part of California so close to the desert, they didn't have to worry about that kind of thing. Aside from the occasional rain like today, of course.

Parking in another indoor structure, Shepard turned her car off, music ending.

She took off her hoodie and handed it to me.

"Here, Ash," she said. "Put this on."

Smiling over how soft and clean her hoodie was, and how sweet she was, I told her, "Thanks, Skipper."

After I slipped the white of this snug cotton over my head and down my torso, I wrapped my arms around myself, feeling her, smelling her all over me like this. I watched as Shepard pulled a black, compact umbrella out from a hidden compartment in her door. Setting the folded umbrella in her lap for now, she fixed the collar of her white shirt: a really nice long-sleeved button-down that she could've easily worn with a suit, instead tucked into her dark jeans for today.

Outside, holding the umbrella over both of us, Shepard kept my hand in her free one, guiding me along as we entered the mall together. Passing by more of those glamorous people with their dozens of shopping bags bobbing around beneath their huge umbrellas, I felt self-conscious again compared to them. Then again, Shepard wasn't exactly dressed for the occasion, either, aside from her shirt. She didn't seem to mind that we stood out from most of the crowd, enjoying this time with me instead.

And all of these _places_ to choose from:

Designer stores everywhere—Louis Vuitton, Michael Kors, Dolce & Gabbana, Prada, Armani Exchange; jewelry stores with full-blown diamonds and rubies and all glittering in the rainy light; shoe stores with heels and boots stacked up high along the walls; high-end department stores; computer and electronics stores; and even a movie theater—all for people with tons of money to burn on the best of the best…

Shepard leaned closer, telling me, "Pick out whatever you want, babe. Any store, anything. It's on me."

"Wait, _really?"_ I asked. "No… There's no way you just said that!"

"I'll buy you anything," she said, so smooth. "Clothes, shoes, purses, diamond rings— _anything._ No limit."

Blushing like crazy, I shook my head. "But Shepard, that's…"

Stopping us outside of the Prada store, Shepard turned to face me. Pattering of the heavy downpour hitting against the top of her umbrella over our heads—she looked at me in a way that told me she was completely serious about this. And even when she'd said the words, her tone had such a suave depth to it, husky in her meaning, in her… _new kind_ of confidence. Definitely not the same one as before.

Lifting my chin with her hand, up to her, she questioned me, "You don't think you're worth it?"

Blushing even more, somehow, I replied, "That's _a lot_ of credits you're offering to spend on me…"

Shepard leaned down, more, giving me a brief kiss filled so with my worth to her.

Brief as she was, she still managed to make my head spin, with only her hand keeping me in place.

"Ashley, you're worth it," said Shepard, with that same depth, so dreamy. "You're good enough. You're more than good enough to me. _So much more._ You are sublime in every way imaginable… No matter who else is around, _you_ are the most beautiful woman that I'll ever know. I want you to believe that."

Listening to her tell me that was like getting a shot full of sugar straight into my heart, into my veins.

Loaded with so much energy I couldn't express to her in public like this, I didn't know what to say…

Shepard knew.

She smiled, so charming, bargaining with me, "Babe, let me at least get you a warmer shirt, some jeans, and a different pair of shoes. If you see something else you want, tell me, and I'll buy it. All right?"

"Okay… Thanks."

She smiled more, and walked me into the brightness of this Prada store, letting me look around.

I stuck to the ready-to-wear section. Everything else was so nice, but— _too nice_ for me. Way too nice.

More than these amazing clothes and shoes everywhere—trend-setting, and a step above my usual style—I loved that Shepard followed me. I'd spent all this time, these months during missions, following her around like a puppy, on purpose or not. Now she stayed just as close to me, just as protective of me.

And I loved that she paid attention to every single thing I looked over. I loved that she absorbed what I liked and what I didn't like. I even loved the way she used her hand to cover the price tags on anything I seriously had my eye on, to keep me from feeling guilty and changing my mind.

I was honestly so used to throwing on whatever clothes happened to fit me and didn't look too girly.

The fashion here, though…it was so lovely, so stately and fresh. I felt myself getting caught up in the novelty of it all, of how Shepard had given me this freedom to pick out whatever I wanted. But I managed to restrain myself—and not because I didn't think Shepard could afford all of this. I really did believe that she would've bought out this entire mall for me if that was what I asked her to do…

Even the other people around noticed the same: they stared at us, at the way Shepard gazed at me the whole time, at the way I couldn't quite look at her. I expected them to judge me. I expected them to start laughing at me, wondering how the hell I could have possibly deserved this kind of treatment.

Instead, they mostly smiled at me, at Shepard and me together, especially the people who worked here.

Still, I only picked out a relatively normal long-sleeved red shirt, some fitting jeans that were as close to a regular denim color as I could find, a plain black belt, and a pair of black ankle boots with average heels, just so that I wouldn't have to keep looking up at Shepard to make eye contact with her.

To match, Shepard picked out a leather motorcycle jacket for me: sporty enough, and still not too girly.

And I really, _really_ liked it, so I didn't put up a fight. She had amazing taste in clothes.

Carrying everything to the checkout kiosk for me, Shepard asked, "You found everything in your size?"

I nodded.

This place didn't have a dressing room, anyway…

I was surprised Shepard let me join her at the automated checkout counter.

She actually let me see the final total there on the kiosk—

"Shepard," I protested. "Wait a minute… That's way too much!"

The boots _alone_ cost more than I made in a week!

Shepard paid for everything anyway.

No credit chit—all from the credits she happened to have on-hand, all digital through her omni-tool.

And then she had the bag in her hand, filled with what I'd picked out, giving me such an adoring look.

"Come on, Ash," guided Shepard, holding my hand again. "Let's go find a place for you to get changed."

As she led me back outside, I avoided everyone's curious staring, whispering, "Thanks, Skipper…"

She smiled with so much pride, opening the umbrella for us again. So pleased to please me.

Walking by my side, Shepard led me across the mall to one of those high-end department stores.

Despite everything, there was a part of me that really _did_ feel…pleased by her. Fulfilled. Like she had given me exactly what I wanted, even as I fought against her for treating me like this. Because, again, I was so used to dealing with whatever— _settling_ —I had no idea what this kind of life was like. Now that I had a taste of Shepard's lifestyle, I felt myself going back to our conversation from her birthday. The one where I'd told her the things I needed in trust. The things that I was so ashamed of needing this badly…

Not that I necessarily _wanted_ to bankrupt her from taking me on shopping sprees like this.

It was more that Shepard gave me this special treatment.

And maybe she knew that when she decided to bring me here, giving me this taste on purpose.

Still, the damage and the shame in me wouldn't let me fully enjoy this. I had a feeling Shepard was well-aware, but she chose not to let that get in the way of things. She worked around my hesitations, making me as happy as she could while not pushing me too far out of my comfort zone.

Halfway to the department store, the rain started to let up a little bit—but only a little.

I noticed Shepard gripping the umbrella anyway, determined to keep it over our heads. Even as she kept the Prada shopping bag hooked along the bend of her arm, and holding my hand with her other one, I got the sense that she would've kept that umbrella out even in a light drizzle.

"Skipper, don't you like the rain?" I asked her. "Or do you miss the sun?"

"I love the rain," replied Shepard, still kind of grumpy. "It's my favorite kind of weather."

I reached across to poke her shoulder. "Then why do you look so annoyed right now?"

Shepard lighted up a little with my touch, explaining, "We don't have our shields from our combat gear to protect us from the rain. I don't wanna get my hair wet, that's all."

"That's all…?"

"Yes, babe."

"I don't get it," I said, staring at her hair now: gorgeous, shining, and straight. "What's the big deal?"

She grumbled a bit, telling me, "Ash, it doesn't just _stay_ like this. I have to blow dry my hair all the time to keep it this straight. If I get it wet, then that's a bunch of time I have to waste blow drying it again."

"Wow, really? I just wash mine in the shower and let it dry on its own."

"Must be nice…"

I laughed. "Wait…this is one of those things I wouldn't understand on my own, isn't it?"

Shepard sighed, admitting, "It's a lot of work. Sometimes I don't know why I put up with it. Plus there's all this fucking _controversy_ about how I shouldn't bother keeping it this straight at all. I've legit had some women come up to me, screaming about how this isn't my natural hair, and how dare I reinforce harmful stereotypes by wearing it like this. Like I'm going to hell for not conforming to what they do."

I made a mental note to look all of this up as soon as I got back to my hotel room. "You mean…your hair isn't _naturally_ like this?"

"It almost is," she clarified. "It's a bit wavier—naturally. And this technically is my _natural hair_ , since I don't use any chemicals to keep it this way. No relaxers. I'm only taking a small step to straighten it."

"A small step," I repeated, right as we made it to the automatic doors of the department store.

Shepard set her hand along my lower back, guiding me to enter first. "A small step that takes effort."

I walked inside to this wind of perfumes almost overpowering me, with her following right behind. "But you make the effort anyway. You're really…mindful. You put in the work, because it's worth it…"

Glittering under the lights of this gigantic store, Shepard smiled at me with her full meaning, _so sublime._

* * *

Here in the public restroom of this department store, I almost forgot where I was. This place looked like it could've belonged in a palace, just like the outside of the store itself. The soft lighting, the marble floor and the perfect surfaces everywhere made me self-conscious all over again while I changed my clothes.

Standing in this stall while I changed, I thought back to how Shepard wasn't in here. She'd been a little subdued on our way here to the women's bathroom, like she actually wanted to be someplace else.

I had given her hoodie back and everything, hoping that might've helped somehow— _somehow_ , like giving a pup its bone back—but she had only smiled again, insisting that I go on ahead without her. I had even asked her if she was shy about being in here with me while I dealt with the last of this monthly problem of mine. She had just laughed a bit and said no, before leaving outside.

The shirt fit just fine. The material felt so nice on me… I almost never wanted to take it back off again.

I knew that the jacket, the boots, and the belt would fit me, too.

I had changed out of everything else, setting it in the Prada shopping bag that Shepard had carried for me earlier.

_But these jeans…_

They _were_ my size—I swore they were—and I had made sure to double-check in the store.

Trying to pull them up over my thighs was like pulling teeth, making me groan in the middle of this empty room, the sound echoing off of all the marble everywhere. Jumping a bit, I managed to get them over my thighs—but they just _would not_ come up around my ass. I kept yanking at them, yanking with the belt loops to help, hoping I wouldn't snap them in half.

I gave up after a while of doing this over and over again.

And then I remembered—I had extra water weight because of my damn period.

No wonder these wouldn't fit me today…

Plastering my forehead against the wall of this stall, and hanging out of these _really nice jeans,_ all I could think about was how much money Shepard had spent on me. I could have gotten them on. I should have been able to. I just…couldn't do it by myself right now. And I didn't want to waste any more time on this.

Swallowing my pride, I went ahead and dialed into our private frequency.

Shepard answered right away, _"Yes, babe."_

I tried not to whine over this as I asked, "Where are you…?"

" _I'm outside in the hall."_

"You mean you're just…waiting there for me? You didn't go looking around the store?"

" _No, why would I do that? I'm here for you. Not to shop for myself."_ As if I needed another reason to want her more: she was so considerate… _"Ash, why do you sound so miserable? Are you all right?"_

Letting myself sound as miserable as I was—and as frustrated as I was—I requested, "Could you…come in here? I _really_ need your help with something…"

" _I'll be right there."_

As soon as I heard the main door open, I unlocked my stall, waiting here.

Wearing her sweet hoodie again, Shepard slipped into the stall with me, locking it back.

I wouldn't look at her.

She hummed in a warm acceptance, as if she wasn't surprised at all, before moving to stand behind me.

"What?" I droned. "Why do _you_ sound like that…?"

"This _is_ your size," noticed Shepard, grabbing hold of the waist of these jeans. "So what's going on?"

"It's my stupid water weight from my period. I only noticed once I got in here."

Shepard somehow didn't judge me at all. "Hmm."

Still, I told her, "Sorry, I'm a mess…"

"Well, I thought that's what I noticed. When you had those tight pants on from your running gear, you looked…a little thicker than I was used to. Your thighs, your ass. It was—difficult not to stare."

Shepard then pressed herself up against me, right behind me.

I had expected her to laugh over how embarrassed I was, as usual…

Instead, she put her whole body into pulling at these jeans, pulling them over me, pulling and hiking, hiking and yanking, making way more headway that I had on my own. With that strength, Shepard pulled all of me back against her. So unintentional, so rammed her thighs against the back of mine, rounding her half-thrusts against me, pushing at me while she kept pulling my jeans up.

The way she growled with her effort, so deep in her throat, so subtly aggressive, so menacing and meaningful, it _really_ got to me…

I bit down on my lip, clamping down, _trying_ not to make a sound, but it was so hard.

Feeling something like this from her for the first time, I couldn't stop throbbing; I stopped breathing.

I couldn't stop myself from imagining more, way more—everything, all of it.

I leaned forward against this surface, pressing my hands here, my arms here, completely loose to Shepard fucking at me like this. She was so strong about it. She was so _certain_ about it. Her every movement, everything she tried was so full and knowing. Her whole body, all of it, she gave it to me, pulling these jeans up, pulling them up over me, even as much as I needed her to rip them back off and take me right here, right this second.

And once I finally did breathe, Shepard _heard me._

She heard me, and she leaned into me, giving me that growling against my ear— _"Fuck,_ Ashley… Fuck!"

I was about to make my lip bleed from biting down on it so hard.

I held my breath again, zipping my lungs up to keep from tempting her any more than I should have.

Not in a bathroom stall.

_Not in a bathroom stall._

Shepard finally pulled my jeans all the way up, breathing hard against me with her relief, her release.

She almost sounded monstrous in her growling—soft, suspenseful. Holding herself back for me.

I stayed here like this, trembling down to the bone from how badly I needed her to fuck me up.

Fumbling her hand through the bag, Shepard pulled out the belt she'd bought for me.

Listening to the rasp of her palm coiling around the leather, pulling it out, pulling it straight, I had to hold my breath again, all over again. So rough with me, Shepard zipped me up before she forced the belt through these loops, wrapping it around and around. Pressing herself harder against my back, she finished here, fastening my buckle and slipping the rest of the leather away in place for me.

There was just something about this…

Something about this that made me feel so damn high, way higher than this room, this store…

So much higher, like I was somewhere up in the clouds, way above where I actually was. Eyes heavy, they'd already slipped down, closed, letting me dream here in place.

And all Shepard had to do…was keep touching me. Keep dressing me. Keep taking care of me like this…

She let me fall away—mentally, emotionally—finally not having to _worry_ anymore.

I could let her think for me.

I could let her plan, and organize, and do _everything_ for me, everything that I was too exhausted to do.

So sick and tired of having to be perfect, twice as good as anyone else; so exhausted from always acting like I was invincible, like I was better than the best, all to end up with nothing…

I trusted Shepard to let me be, to handle it all for me, knowing that _she_ would upgrade me by proxy.

I trusted her to do this, because she could do it perfectly, paying perfect attention to me, to my needs.

This high lifted me even more once Shepard bent down to the marble floor, down to my feet. She lifted my legs just enough, one at a time—gentler in this time, savoring me—slipping the arch of my right foot into the leather of boot. Just as gentle, she did the same with my left.

Elevated by these heels now, I felt even higher, higher than high from this quiet worship of hers:

The way she wanted to kiss my legs, but didn't.

The way she _wanted_ to touch me all over, but didn't. And the way she needed to make sure that I had everything, absolutely everything I could ever want or need, even with this one thing, this one thing.

I remembered now that I already had the shirt on—but I should've left it off, for this.

Shepard finished with the leather jacket, putting it on me, one arm at a time, until she shifted the leather up around my back and over my shoulders.

She freed my hair from beneath the jacket, setting it back out the way I liked, just the way I wanted it.

"Ashley," whispered Shepard, right in my ear, the breaths from her pronunciation blowing against me.

"Mmm…"

Trying again, deeper this time: "Ash…"

"Mm, Commander, please don't stop…"

Sucking in her breath this time, Shepard reminded me, "You're dressed now… Nothing else to put on."

Still leaning against the wall, I begged her, "Then take my clothes off… You can't fuck me yet. So put my clothes back on me again instead. Do it, please. I want you to…" When she wouldn't do it, I backed my ass into her, making her react that way. "Commander… _Shepard,_ it's not fair… You left me alone in the hotel all this time. Now I need your hands on me again, and you won't…you won't do it…"

"Ashley…are you high right now?"

" _Yes,"_ I whined. "You have to take care of me… You have to. You promised…"

Shepard breathed harder, and took the risk of turning me around.

I panted as I stood here underneath her, leaning back against the surface behind me now. She found my eyes out of focus. She found that I couldn't stay still, swaying a little in place. She found that my face was as red as my shirt, my breaths harder than ever. Harder, so much harder, because I couldn't breathe without her, and she knew it—she saw it in the only focus in my eyes, trying to keep her in my center.

Choosing to be gentle with me, Shepard held my face in her hands, holding me still.

Focusing on how unfocused I was, she asked in such a soft, caring voice, "Ashley, are you hungry?"

Remembering that I hadn't eaten anything all day, I told her, "Yes…"

"How about I take you out to dinner with me?" she suggested, still sounding exactly how I needed her to sound. "There's this nice place nearby I wanna show you. I think you'll like it a lot."

"Nice place, hm…?" Sounded nice, so nice…I needed more info first. "What's it called?"

"The Cheesecake Factory," she replied. "It'll be crowded, but I can get us a table right away. We'll be secluded, with a nice view of the mall and the valley. It won't take us long to get there, either. Like I said, it's nearby. Right around the corner from the mall."

"Mmm, cheesecake," I repeated, _so_ in love. "How'd you know…that I love cheesecake? And…I _totally_ have a sweet tooth right now… If it's a cheesecake _factory,_ then it should be fun… I wanna go. I want you to feed me… I want…to have an incredible night with you, out on a romantic date with you…"

"Then let's go, babe," coaxed Shepard, unlocking the stall door; opening it for us.

I let her get my bag for me; let her guide me out of the stall, over to the sink.

"Commander, did I ever tell you…how hot it is that you call me _babe?_ And it's only hot when _you_ do it… Your voice gets so deep and throaty… Like I'm the only girl in the whole galaxy. It's so sexy, you know…"

"I'm glad you like it," she said, turning on the cold water. "You should wash your face before we go."

Not knowing _why_ I should have, I somehow agreed with her, "Yeah…yeah, I should, huh…"

Bending down to the running sink—without thinking—I scooped up a bunch of cold water in my hands, splashing it on my face.

Right away, the cold shocked my high back down, freezing me back down to Earth.

I gaped at Shepard through the mirror.

She found the recognition in my eyes, seeing that I was sober again.

I hurried to get a paper towel, drying my face; burying it here.

_Where the hell did I go back there?_

And why did it feel so…familiar, with her? Like I had been there before, multiple times, just differently…

Dry again—on the _outside,_ anyway—and aware again, all I could do was stare at her for a while.

Finally level with her height from these heels, Shepard just held me. Wordless as she was, I understood where I'd gone. I held her back, tighter, amazed as I was that she could do that to me. She had taken me there without even trying, and maybe without realizing that I would like _that_ so damn much.

Somehow, I knew she understood me, too. I didn't need to say anything, either.

And I loved her so much more for that alone, everything else forgotten…for now.

* * *

Just like Shepard said, the restaurant she'd picked out was nearby, right next to the mall.

Even in the pouring rain at this time of night, we walked past a line of people waiting to get inside, wrapping around the building itself, and leading all the way back into the mall itself.

They all waited to get inside this mezzanine that led up to the restaurant itself, upstairs.

Guiding me to enter first, again, Shepard set her hand along the small of my back, so gentle and protective. I let myself fully enjoy this, imagining for one night that I really was her girlfriend, and that this was how she would treat me from now on. And of course, people stared at us together, shooting cold, jealous looks at us. Somehow, it all made me _want_ to smile, just because they were so pissed.

I definitely smiled once we made it inside this mezzanine, though.

Heading up the tall, long escalator, Shepard held my hand as we stood here, watching me look around. I loved how warm this place was, illuminated and colored like a classic cheesecake: off-white walls, marble flooring and surfaces, mixed with the soft golds and typical dark brown of the dessert's crust. Through the windows we passed by along the escalator, it looked like the restaurant had a bunch of floors, packed with people eating dinner here, mostly in large groups together.

At the top of the escalator, I saw the big red font spelling out _The Cheesecake Factory_ , naming it as a restaurant, a bakery, and a bar all-in-one.

Inside through the glass doors, my eyes lit up all over again, taking everything in:

The same style and color scheme as the mezzanine, this place looked a lot like a classy wonderland for sophisticated adults. The lighting made everything fit together perfectly: those winding designs of pale gold, definitely reminding me that we were in San Diego. I couldn't stop smiling, especially while Shepard guided me by my hand past the line of people through here, too. We passed by a bunch of cheesecakes behind some glass, just like a bakery, with all kinds of designs, colors, and flavors there.

Since it was so noisy here by the entrance, I didn't expect Shepard to say anything, to explain how and why she picked this restaurant out for me. I went ahead and followed her, loving the feel of her hand over mine. I had finally stopped feeling self-conscious with these other pissed off people staring at us, obviously wondering who the hell we were and how we'd managed to skip the long line.

Shepard soon brought us to a private half-booth right next to a balcony—sure enough, overlooking the beautiful view of the mall and the valley at night, exactly like she'd said earlier. The bright lights from the city, from the skycars out on the nearby freeway, the overpass of the valley cradling all of the other buildings out there: I could admire it all from this distance without that life-changing fear crippling me.

So much quieter here, too, just like I knew Shepard preferred.

She relaxed a little with this silence, far-removed from the rest of the crowd and the noise as we were.

At the table, Shepard was sweet enough to pull my jacket off for me, making me smile way more. She had me sit in the booth itself while she took her hoodie off. I expected her to come sit next to me, since there was plenty of room. But then she was about to sit in the lone chair across from me.

"Hey, come here," I told her. "What are you sitting over there for?"

Caught off-guard by my request, Shepard explained, "I wanted to face the restaurant. To keep watch…"

I laughed over how attentive she was. "Shepard, we're on _shore leave!_ Now get over here already."

She went ahead and slid into the booth with me on my right side, right next to me.

Turning the center kiosk around to face us, Shepard asked me, "So, what do you think of the place?"

"It's amazing!" I said, loving that Shepard smiled at me, over how happy I was. "This is exactly the kind of restaurant I pictured you taking me to! Well, sort of… I imagined you might be used to something way, way more upscale. Not that this place _isn't_ upscale… You know what I mean."

"I wanted something more accessible than that for you. Just not some cheap, throwaway thing. I figured this was a good balance for our first real date. It's upscale, but not _too much."_

Watching her browse through the seafood menu with the kiosk, I asked her, "Did you pick this place with the cheesecake in mind? Because I meant what I said earlier: I really do like it. I'm pretty sure I never told you, though. How'd you know?"

"I didn't," responded Shepard. "I only guessed that you might like it."

"Then we have to get some for dessert! Definitely the classic one. I want to see how it tastes here."

"Already planned on it getting it for you, babe."

Confused, I wondered, "What about you? Don't you want some, too?"

Shepard made a face. "I hate cheesecake."

I couldn't help laughing at that. "Shepard, what?! Then why bring me here if you hate cheesecake? That's like the main attraction!"

"Because I knew _you_ would like it, Ash," she justified. "Plus, I couldn't pass up the reservation with a table like this. I wanted to bring you here, to show you what I'm about. And this is only a taste. I care more about pleasing you than whatever's on this menu."

Shepard had made a _reservation_ for us…

That meant she had planned on bringing me here ahead of time, all as a surprise—even if she _was_ still struggling with something underneath the surface.

Leaning against her shoulder, I smiled over this, over _everything._

"You're the sweetest thing, Skipper. Thank you…"

Shepard did that _thing_ —clenching down on her jaw, stabilizing her shyness—before asking, "What do you want to drink, then?"

I wanted to know first, "Hmm, you've been here before, right?" Stoic, she nodded for me. "What do you usually get?"

"The strawberry lemonade," she replied. "It's fresh. Very sweet. Strawberry is my favorite fruit."

Strawberry, huh? "Let me try it, then."

Shepard was already on the page, adding two of the lemonades for us.

Soon after, a part of the table next to the kiosk opened up in mechanical automation. From there, two cold glasses of rose-tinted, strawberry lemonades appeared, the tops of the glasses rimmed with thick sugar, ready with thin crystal straws.

Pulling them over to us, Shepard set one on my side and the other on hers. She encouraged me to try mine first. I brought the straw to my lips, tasting—and the fresh sweetness hit me right away,

"What do you like eating here, then?" I asked her. Then I remembered: "Wait, let me guess—salad?"

"You guessed correctly."

I buried my smile against her shoulder. "Shepard…"

"Ashley, when it comes to food, I'm again a very simple person," she lectured. "I don't like fancy meals that are fancy for the sake of it. I'm usually not willing to experiment and try new things, because then that's money wasted on something I might not like. I'd rather stick to the basics."

"Right, so you're a picky eater," I paraphrased.

Shepard shrugged, saying, "I can't help it." She browsed the seafood menu again. "I saw you looking here earlier. Did you want to try the seafood?"

"Is there anything you've tried before? Something you actually liked?"

"The shrimp scampi," she said, pointing to the picture and description: angel hair pasta swirled along the side of sautéed shrimp mixed with fresh basil, cloves of garlic, tomato and white wine.

"Mmm, I want that, too," I told her. "It looks really good…" Shepard added it for me, before going over to the salads. "What kind of salad are you getting?"

"The normal Caesar salad," she replied, adding it, too. "Without cheese, parmesan, whatever."

"You hate _cheese,_ then? Is that it?"

"I just don't like it."

Poking her flat stomach, I teased her, "Scared you'll get fat?"

"Yes, actually," she said, solemn.

"Oh… Wait, seriously?!"

The table opened up for the second time, revealing our meals there. Steaming and smelling like heaven already, she brought my shrimp and pasta over to me first, before pulling her plate of salad in front of her. I noticed the way she looked at her own food, now that we were in the middle of this conversation: like she held back with so much in life. Even with this.

Still, Shepard gave me a look, encouraging to try my own dinner.

Like she wouldn't touch her own until I had at least taken a bite first.

So I did, and _I loved it,_ how the shrimp mixed together with everything in a crisp heat…despite feeling bad, because of this talk, this subject.

Shepard only ate a little bit, and didn't continue speaking until she had absolutely nothing in her mouth again: "Being in the fashion industry since I was thirteen years old… It messed with my head. I pushed myself a lot. Not to the point of developing an eating disorder or anything, but I watched the people around me suffer through them. And it's not like I had a backup plan in case the whole modeling thing didn't work out. So I had to put up with it, at least until I enlisted. The Alliance was my true way out."

"No, I totally get it," I shared. "I guess I didn't expect that, coming from you… It's not like you talk about those things. You don't wear makeup. You don't dress up. You don't seem to _care_ like other people do."

"I care about certain things—with this," she corrected.

"Like what? What else do you think about?"

"Deep down, I have an unconscious fear of getting old. Losing my touch. And the rest I don't want to say."

Even listening to Shepard say that, I couldn't imagine it.

Not at all.

She noticed, and said, "Ash, I'm not a god. I'm a person, just like you."

"I know…"

"Then why do you have such a hard time accepting this? It's inevitable."

"Because," I murmured, using my fork to twirl at this pasta. "I just can't see you going through that. Maybe you think I'm idealizing you or something… I promise, that's not how I feel about it. Like, if _anyone_ could find a way to become immortal somehow, then it would be you. It could only be you."

Not wanting to be such a downer, Shepard tried humoring me instead, "You're serious, huh?"

I smiled at her. "I believe in you, Skipper. You'll find a way. Then you can share it with me!"

Shepard let herself laugh, insisting this time, "Babe, the only way I can be immortal is in a video game."

"Okay, then you'll be in a video game," I humored right back. "Oh! You know, I don't play games that much anymore, but I just remembered—the N7 one you played for me, there's no final boss, is there? It's only the multiplayer thing on a team with other people?"

"No final boss in this one," she told me. "It's just the multiplayer."

Struck by a sudden idea, I asked her, "So, if _you_ were the final boss in a video game, what would you be like? Final bosses are supposed to be all-powerful. The ultimate test of the player's abilities—or _something_ like that. What would the final boss battle against Commander Shepard be like?"

Shepard truly considered this, for me, and said, "You're right that final bosses are usually all-powerful. Really strong, with that type of raw strength—you know, beefed-up. That isn't me, though."

Not wanting to tease her over how tall and slim she was, I wondered, "How would you be different?"

Considering some more, thinking some more, Shepard ate more of her salad. I ate more of my shrimp, too, watching her consider, watching her think, watching her eat.

Then she posed the question: "Ashley, for this final battle, can you see the player actually beating me?"

"No way! They _can't_ win, Skipper. Not against you! It'd be _game over_ if they tried."

Shepard gave a confused grin. "Then how is that supposed to work? They _have_ to win. I _have_ to lose."

"I don't know—you're the game designer here! You tell me. Come on, I wanna know what you think."

"Well, it's more interesting if it's a battle the player can't win," she supposed. "Especially if they go into the fight knowing that they can't beat me. I'd want that mind fuck instead…to make up for my lack of raw strength. So, with that, the whole battle would be a mind fuck. I could terrify them to death instead. Not sure how the actual mechanics would work. It would depend on the rest of the game, the story."

That did sound pretty interesting… "Then what's your idea of a mind fuck—in this situation?"

Shepard thought about it and said, "Subverting expectations. Testing their mettle. Things like that."

"Would you make the player give up somehow?" I asked. "Sounds like something you'd do."

"Yeah, I like that. If they can't win, then they'd have to forfeit. They could only win by hacking the game, or cheating."

We spent a lot longer like this—talking together, eating together with this familiar ease between us.

All of that confusion, all of those hurt feelings from before couldn't get in the way now.

Shepard gave me this realistic fantasy of knowing her, of loving her outside of the military, outside of our work and our duty. I could absolutely see us having met outside of the Alliance somehow, with her finding a way to talk to me first—or maybe I would have, depending on whether I was still stuck in the closet or not.

And even with how badly we wanted each other— _like now_ —Shepard chose to be a gentleman for me.

She didn't let our conversation stray anywhere too close to sex…for obvious reasons.

She wanted to keep getting to know me for me, exactly like she had said months ago.

She showed me that she could get along with me as my best friend—my only, true best friend…

We could still talk about other things aside from our raw emotions, aside from sex, aside from the usual drama. Getting away from the ship, away from the others after having been stuck around them for four straight months, and getting to see Shepard like this with me: it solidified just how much I wanted her, just how much I loved her, in all things.

And when she did order dessert for me—that classic cheesecake I wanted—she was so sweet about wanting me to try this, about feeding me like I had mentioned before during my high, and about making me happy before anything else. I let her have the actual strawberries that came with the cheesecake, just to give her something to smile about, too.

Shepard had offered to get some alcohol for us before we left.

I had to turn her offer down.

The last time I drank—at Dark Goddess—it was… _weird._ I hardly remembered anything I said that night after a certain point, after I'd had a little too much to drink. After that extra glass, that extra swallow or sip, my memory was way too hazy, even though I knew I didn't necessarily do anything stupid that night. The others would've told me if I had. So I didn't want to risk anything like that happening again so soon, even if it was only a glass of wine or whatever.

All I remembered from that time was how _honest_ I had been, somehow. Like I'd held nothing back.

Another piece of this fantasy: in how Shepard took me to the movies afterward, not necessarily to _watch_ something, but to be there in that moment with me, to have this experience with me. The romantic drama she had picked out didn't really matter, and we both knew it. Far-removed from the rest of the crowd again, Shepard had us sit in a pair of special seats, away from everyone else—secluded there in that dark space with each other.

So very secluded: enough for Shepard to make out with me the entire time, and at just the right temperature, the right intensity. Sensual and romantic in the way she touched me, the way she elevated me in place, she kept things from getting too heated, or even too cold.

The entire time, I wanted her to at least unbutton my shirt—to taste me there, to show me how much she could do to me. I knew she was tempted.

At times, Shepard couldn't keep her hands from touching me here, like she wanted to claw right through me; tear my shirt off and out of the way, to _at least_ have this of me, if nothing else yet.

But, like with all things, she decided to hold back.

Shepard held back, and back, and back—enough to drive me back to the hotel afterward once the movie was over. Back to the hotel. Back there, instead of taking me back to her house, her apartment, like she knew I wanted her to do. Even if we couldn't have sex, I at least wanted to see her place for myself. I wanted to see how she lived, to know what made her comfortable.

I needed to know her on that level. This was the only chance we had to do this, until shore leave was over. _Whenever_ that was supposed to be.

Standing outside the sliding glass doors leading to the hotel, and shielding me from the rain with her umbrella, Shepard could hardly look at me. I was at her level, still, from my heels getting soaked in the persistent bullets of rainfall hitting the sidewalk. I could finally look her right in the eye, parallel to her, balanced with her. I was here, I was _finally_ here, and yet she chose to put up this wall for some damn reason.

But somehow, Shepard hadn't shattered my illusions, my mirages, or my fantasies from today.

They all felt real, within my reach. So I let myself believe in us. I chased after her in place with this belief—this hope, this feeling—because there was no way I was about to turn back now. I was in this with her forever, no matter how closed-off she was; no matter how much she confused me, hurting me like this.

Guarded, I told her, "I had a really nice time with you tonight, Shepard… Thanks. For taking me out."

Breathing with her reluctance, she only stared at me, holding way too much back.

Trying to meet her eyes, I asked, "Aren't you at least gonna kiss me good night?"

Shepard kept standing there, breathing harder now.

From how long we'd spent making out in that movie theater, I could smell me on her, over the skin of her lips. From what little of her eyes I could see in her avoidance, it was like she had night vision: the way that sunlit brown lit up her view, this dark, limited view of us together underneath her umbrella so late at night—after midnight—it made her look so otherworldly… So heavenly. So very— _unattainable._

Shepard kissed the corner of my mouth, delicate, like she was scared of me for some fucking reason.

Scoffing in offense, in frustration, I turned around, leaving inside to the hotel lobby through the doors.

I left her standing there in the rain, left her knowing how hurt I was without a word. I left with _both of us_ knowing that I would never give up on her—no matter the cost.


	14. Love Me Tender

" _Montreal" by The Weeknd / "The Hive" from Deus Ex: Human Revolution / "Numbers" by FKA twigs_

 **XIV.** Love Me Tender

_(Ashley)_

So many other possibilities echoed through the hollow golden mists of this city.

So many missed chances for deeper connections in the past—from my hesitations, from Shepard's.

She chose to leave me alone, again, today, all morning to the afternoon, leaving me to my research in bed in my hotel room, searching the extranet for answers, to know more about her, her culture…

But really, the whole time I did this, I kept kicking myself. Like, maybe I could've persuaded Shepard to be with me before, earlier, without needing to put us both through so much suffering. If I'd taken my time and figured out how to approach her, then we could've avoided all of this pain altogether. Maybe I would actually understand her, way more, and that could have helped me figure her out today. Or maybe none of this would have happened, and we both could've been happy, with nothing in the way…

I could have been her one and only by now if I hadn't let my fears stop me. If I'd taken the risk sooner. Could have, should have, would have—and _maybe, maybe, maybe._

There was no point in dwelling on any of this shit, but I did it anyway… Anything to make this pain go away, to dull it even a little bit.

After all, Shepard had such a history of not knowing how to love whoever she was in a relationship with. She had hurt them; they had hurt her. That was all she knew. And this pain now, this knife twisting through my heart—it was all I knew of her, too. If I could have twisted this right back into her, then it would have been karma for her. Maybe she knew that. Maybe she knew, and she didn't want the karma.

The only thing that made sense…was that she stayed away from me, and out of reach from this knife.

Twisting these thoughts of mine darker with time, darker with the rain clouds outside: I stayed in bed all day, just in this oversized T-shirt of mine and my underwear, glued to the extranet browser of my omni-tool. I had spent hours doing this—ever since I woke up this morning, and realized that my date with Shepard last night hadn't been a dream—

Browsing these interracial dating sites for more views, more perspectives, more information…all while feeling like I would never get a real chance to put any of this to use.

Eating this rainbow sherbet ice cream I'd bought, right from the carton, because I was that pathetic.

Consuming this information about mixed women, their hair, why they felt out-of-place in society, 'othered' by both or all of the races they were mixed with for not being _enough_ of one or the other; consuming my feelings as I ate this ice cream, and trying not to cry over how much I missed Shepard—so much that my heart could have burst at any minute from this knife twisting inside, twisting and twisting.

No more bleeding, though, since that was finally over…and I had emailed Shepard already, telling her as much. I told her that I was ready for her. I was ready for anything. She hadn't responded—I saw that she had 'read' my message right away. _Why?_ Why wouldn't she say something back, acknowledge me?

My role in this interracial relationship was to listen to her, to never assume that I knew better.

_Relationship…_

I dug deeper into this box of ice cream with my spoon, only to realize it was all gone.

Not a drop of rainbow left in this carton, anywhere.

Collapsing against my pillows, I checked the time—almost 2:00pm, 1400 hours.

And Shepard's status was _still_ set to unavailable. No emails from her. Fucking no contact, again!

Groaning in frustration, exasperation, I jumped out of bed, determined to just _go for it_ already.

If Shepard insisted on playing these stupid games with me, then that meant I had to win the final battle.

Or _all of the battles,_ really… Since there was no end to something like this.

I knew where she was, right then, and right this second. I had to go to her. It was now or never.

I stormed over to this hotel room's holo-closet that linked to mine back on the _Normandy_. Standing here in my plain old shirt and my underwear, I tried to figure out what to put on. The obvious temptation was to wear the outfit Shepard had bought for me last night, from that Prada store… I had lost my obnoxious water weight from yesterday, so getting the jeans back on wouldn't have been a problem.

I couldn't wear the same thing twice in a row, though. Wasn't there some fashion rule against that?

Shepard wouldn't have approved.

And no matter how pissed I was at her, I still needed her to approve, to need me, to love me back.

But this outfit was so nice—way nicer than my entire wardrobe of _just whatever_ shirts, jeans, dresses…

A knock at my door made me frown in confusion. Despite my hopes, I knew that it wasn't Shepard. Whoever it was that knocked, they sounded way too gentle and delicate…even though that same touch from her half-kiss had burned me up last night.

I threw on whatever sweatpants to cover myself up, and then went to answer the door.

My eyes went wide in half-anger, half-shock once I saw who this was.

Tali pulled at her hands as she stood there in the hall, unable to look at me.

I only stared at her, not knowing what to say.

In between her _and_ Shepard avoiding me these days, I was seriously at my limit.

"Ashley, I understand that you don't want to talk," said Tali, more diplomatic than anything. "And I can tell that now isn't a good time for us to have a conversation, anyway. I just…wanted to say…that I'm sorry. For holding a grudge over something so stupid. It wasn't fair of me, I know. I was too emotional to see reason. I only wanted you to think it over first before we actually speak— _if_ we actually speak…"

Scowling now to cover my surprise, I gave my blunt response, "Yeah. I'll think it over. Thanks, I guess."

Tali sighed, lingering there.

I thought that might've been it.

But she had more to share, "Also, unrelated: you…have a delivery. It's waiting for you by the elevators."

"A delivery…?" I asked, anxious. "For me, really? Who's it from?"

Letting herself laugh softly, Tali replied, "I'm pretty sure you'll know right away." She gestured for me to follow her. "Come on. The hotel workers brought everything up for you. You'll have to sign something, for confirmation that you received the delivery. The guys can barely contain themselves over it."

"Okay…"

I followed her down the hallway, not knowing what to expect.

Once we made it closer to the common room next to the elevators, I could already hear the guys—Garrus, Joker, and Wrex—talking to each other in amazement over whatever this delivery was. I couldn't really make out what they said, though. I missed Kaidan. I missed him… I had sent him an email earlier asking if he was all right; what he was up to with the whole process he had to go through. He could only send a short response letting me know that he was on his way to Vancouver today, already, so soon.

Out of respect for his situation, I couldn't say a word to anyone about it.

He hadn't wanted to say goodbye to the others. That would've made things ten times harder for him.

I already knew that Shepard would know what to say to the team once the time was right…

Reaching this huge space of the common room near the elevators, I couldn't…

I seriously… _couldn't_ believe my eyes…

Waiting there for me with the smiling hotel workers—bags and bags and bags of shopping with the names of each brand: Prada, Michael Kors, Christian Siriano, Versace ready-to-wear clothes and dresses, all in my size; Givenchy, Cartier, Bulgari jewelry locked away in coffers; boxes of classic Nike, Timberland, and Air Jordan shoes, and heels and boots made by Armani, Louis Vuitton, and Balenciaga, again, all my size; stacks of purses protected with dust cover bags, from Yves Saint Laurent, Coach, Gucci, Alexander McQueen; and crates of perfumes by Dior, Dolce & Gabbana, Tom Ford, Burberry, Calvin Klein…

Just nearby, Joker whistled low; Wrex chuckled, knowing; Garrus complimented the hell out of me.

I had clamped my hands over my mouth without realizing it, _completely_ blown away by all of this…

Somehow—on auto-pilot—I managed to sign this confirmation, trying not to cry the whole time.

The hotel workers smiled at me, more, and moved to bring all of the bags to my room for me.

As red as my face was, and sweating as the same dew from those cut stems, Tali accepted the fresh bouquet of deep red roses from one of the workers. She handed the heavy flowers to me in gentleness; and right away, I smelled the fullness of this endless scent, reaching so far into me, as deep as this red was, finding every single element of oxygen in my body and latching there as I breathed all of this in.

I found the note tied to the stems, sniffling as I read her professional handwriting over and over again:

_To: Ashley_

_From: Shepard_

_These roses are immortal, everlasting. They'll never grow old. Whether you care for them or not, they'll never wither and die out. They will always be here with you, to you, from me._

_They'll have to do for now until I figure something out for us._

_You're worth it: you are worth more than all the money I've saved in my life, as the miracle that helped me escape the chaos I once knew. Far more than good enough: you are absolutely invaluable to me._

_You are still sublime in every way imaginable; still the most beautiful woman that I'll ever know._

_You are my goddess._

* * *

Floating through this hazy existence, swept up in the fantasy of it all, _of everything,_ I took this next step.

Stepping up to this plate, I understood what Shepard needed me to do here, unspoken from her.

Because even though she had done this for me—even though she was _such_ a fucking romantic—she still, _still_ had her omni-tool's status set to unavailable.

Shepard knew I'd signed the confirmation. She knew that I received the extra gift too: the insurance she had taken out on everything in thoughtfulness, including the jewelry. She had already transferred all of those relevant files and permissions to my omni-tool. She had to know that I loved this gesture from her, from how she had picked and curated every single thing for me, matching my tastes and preferences exactly, and even exceeding them; she had to know that I loved her with all my heart, and that I could hardly keep it inside anymore, as close as we both were to each other, despite this distance here.

So I took this time to prepare, to get ready for anything.

I spent a couple of hours with Tali, first, in my room with her, looking through everything. Having her back meant so much to me, and she knew it—so much that we didn't need to talk about that dumb, irrelevant shit from before. Whatever her problem had been before, Tali had set all of that aside to be here with me, to support me through this floating, and this fantasy that I still couldn't believe was real.

After somehow managing to pick an outfit, Tali helped me set the rest away into my holo-closet.

Just like that, Shepard had replaced and upgraded my entire wardrobe, transforming it into a museum.

A museum on me, for me, with Shepard's gifts to me on full-display, as I eventually settled on: the loose white of this linen jacket and a tighter white shirt, hopefully as a show of my intentions here. Hiding something—or bringing attention to it—I matched my shirt's tightness with the black of these leather jeans, bulking out at the end with the weight of these tanned, tomboyish Timberland boots.

Roses, everlasting roses: this Tom Ford rose-scented perfume finished the display, making me feel more dignified than I actually was.

As this walking museum, I left the hotel for the nearby monorail station.

Sitting in this monorail car during the ride to Central Station, I stayed away from the other people, choosing to stay right next to a window. I put my headphones in, listening to some of Shepard's music that I had bought and downloaded for myself. The rail took us over the San Diego Bay and the piers with a view of the peninsula's beaches and the long Coronado Bridge wrapping over the perfect blue, leaving this part of the black-golden city for the next one farther south.

Out of paranoia, I wondered what would've happened to us if we fell in the water somehow. But even in this limited light from outside, I could see the glimmer of a kinetic shield over the sea's surface, ideally preventing a monorail car from crashing to the depths below.

It wasn't raining like yesterday. Not yet. These same, thick rain clouds loomed overhead, graying out the day, and highlighting the gold everywhere, even more, making it stand out against that starkness.

Right on cue, I got an alert to my omni-tool from the team. Someone had pinged me.

Checking our chat, I felt lost, trying to keep up with this conversation with no context.

So I decided to scroll up first before responding to the ping. I read the logs starting from about half an hour ago while I was getting dressed, after Tali had already left my room:

_[16:24:44] Joker: Dude, I've never seen so many designer brands in my freaking life. Sure makes me feel like shit! 'Cause there's no way I'll ever be able to afford a girl like that haha_

_[16:25:21] Tali: Well, if you think it's about "affording girls", then of course you won't get anywhere._

_[16:25:55] Joker: No, Tali! That's not what I mean! Come on, cut me some slack here!_

_[16:25:59] Wrex:_ _**Liara** _

_[16:26:26] Garrus: I don't know, Joker. You could learn a thing or two from Shepard. Like how to treat a woman like a lady, how to get to know her, how to seriously impress her in front of all of her friends…_

_[16:26:55] Tali: And how to actually speak to her in the first place instead of running to your porn._

_[16:27:24] Joker: Aww, man… Low-blow, Tali. Low-blow!_

_[16:27:55] Tali: Please tell me this isn't another one of your disgusting jokes._

_[16:28:16] Joker: WHAT? NO!_

_[16:28:20] Wrex:_ _**Liara** _

_[16:28:30] Tali: If you say so._

_[16:29:11] Garrus: Anyway, Wrex and I are here at the corner store now. Tali, did you want us to pick up your same drinks? Or how about some juice this time?_

_[16:29:13] Wrex:_ _**Liara** _

_[16:29:55] Tali: I think the juice will be best for now… Thank you, Garrus._

_[16:30:40] Joker: Hey, I heard you had a pretty good time at Dark Goddess! Getting wasted and acting all cute for everyone? That's like, peak Tali right there. Why not have another round for the party tonight?_

_[16:31:26] Tali: By all means, Joker, YOU are free to get that drunk. I don't remember a thing from that night, and I have no plans to repeat this! Keelah, will you stop picking on me already?!_

_[16:32:13] Joker: But I have to pick on you! I can't do it to Ash too much anymore, or else Shepard will definitely kick my ass. Besides, you're always talking smack to me, too! Fair is fair!_

_[16:32:45] Garrus: What's Chief up to, anyway? Any word on whether she's staying for the party?_

_[16:33:23] Joker: Uh, I think she's swimming in diamonds and actual perfume about now in her room._

_[16:33:30] Wrex:_ _**Liara** _

_[16:33:35] Tali: Ashley is getting dressed at the moment. She'll be on her way out soon._

_[16:34:20] Garrus: Understandable. Figured she'd be gone again. I'll put these wine coolers back, then._

_[16:35:03] Joker: Speaking of that, where the heck is_ _**Kaidan** _ _?! I haven't seen him since we got here!_

_[16:35:54] Tali: I don't know… I sent him several private messages, too. I really hope he's all right._

_[16:36:02] Wrex:_ _**Liara** _

_[16:36:14] Liara: Wrex, what is it?!_

_[16:36:20] Wrex: Hi_

_[16:36:24] Liara: …_

_[16:36:40] Joker: Dude, Wrex…even I wouldn't do that to her… You know Liara CAN kick your ass, right?_

_[16:36:42] Wrex:_ _**Liara** _ _hey_

 _[16:37:05] Tali:_ _**Wrex** _ _, will you stop provoking her?! Just ask her already! Like a normal person!_

 _[16:37:06] Wrex: Hey_ _**Liara** _

_[16:37:33] Liara: Wrex, I am out right now! I'm busy! What is it that you want?!_

_[16:38:01] Wrex: You are invited to the Ultimate San Diego Party tonight_

_[16:38:30] Wrex: Hotel common room_

_[16:39:09] Wrex: Will you be there Liara_

_[16:39:25] Garrus: We're likely going to get started in a couple of hours, around 7. What do you say?_

_[16:39:40] Joker: Yeah, come on Liara. We haven't seen you this whole time either! Hang out with us!_

_[16:40:12] Tali: Please? I miss you. We all do._

_[16:46:31] Liara: Fine. I will be there._

_[16:47:01] Joker: Sweet! I've got my best BLUE TENTACLE jokes cooking just for you!_

_[16:47:20] Garrus: Glad to hear it, Liara. I'll see if we can find that pure Thessian wine of yours. You seemed to like it the other night. Or did you want something else to drink instead?_

_[16:50:21] Joker: Hey! Earth to Liara! We're still talking to you here! Don't run off now!_

_[16:51:40] Garrus: Really don't want to have to ping her again…_

_[16:52:03] Wrex:_ _**Liara** _ _do you want your Fancy Blue Thessian Wine_

_[16:52:40] Liara: Yes, please… Thank you._

_[16:53:23] Wrex: Alright I will buy it special for you_ _**Liara** _ _you are my precious blueberry_

_[16:54:08] Tali: Uhm, is this your way of apologizing for pushing her buttons so much…?_

_[16:54:10] Joker: MY SIDES_

_[16:55:30] Garrus: Tali, do you know for certain that Ashley won't be back later on?_

_[16:56:01] Tali: Actually, I don't. I think she left a few minutes ago. She didn't say where she was going. Then again, it's pretty obvious. I doubt she'll be able to join us tonight. Maybe it wouldn't hurt to ask?_

_[16:57:14] Wrex: Clan Chief_ _**Ashley** _ _hello are you there_

_[16:57:30] Tali: Aw, that's so cute!_

_[16:57:59] Joker: Haha yeah it is…what's that all about?_

_[17:02:01] Garrus: Hm, just noticed those wine coolers are on sale… Wouldn't want them to go to waste._

_[17:03:10] Wrex:_ _**Ashley** _

_[17:04:20] Me: Yeah?_

_[17:04:50] Wrex: Will you be out tonight_

_[17:05:10] Wrex: Or will we see you at the Ultimate San Diego Party_

_[17:05:40] Me: Um, thanks for the invite. Doubt I'll be able to make it—at least not on time. Maybe later!_

_[17:06:10] Garrus: Roger that. No worries, Chief. Just didn't want to leave you out for the big bash._

_[17:07:11] Joker: Yeah, we're gonna go for as long as we can tonight. I've got a feeling this is the last day of shore leave. Better make the most of it!_

_[17:07:40] Me: Sounds like it'll be fun! Definitely party it up, guys. Sorry I might not be there._

_[17:08:01] Joker: Well, you've got more important things going on tonight, Ash…_

_[17:08:10] Tali: Did Shepard ever tell us why we've been on shore leave for this long? It feels like we're waiting for something._

_[17:08:50] Joker: Nope! Knowing her, it's probably some top secret thing with the Council. Remember they called as soon as we got to Thessia? I'm sure they're making us sit around until they call her back._

_[17:09:30] Tali: Hmm, you could be right. Still, I hope we can leave this hotel soon. It's a lovely place, but I get the feeling we're being watched somehow… It's creepy._

_[17:10:03] Me: I know, right? Thought it was just me…_

_[17:10:57] Tali: Oh, no, I feel it too. I've felt it this whole time. I ran several checks for any unusual security cameras or spying systems of some sort. Nothing came up. So, if there aren't any secret programs keeping an eye on us, then it must be…someone…_

_[17:11:30] Joker: Nah, it's probably just Shepard cloaking around. If I could turn invisible like that, you can bet your ass I'd take full advantage of it!_

_[17:12:21] Garrus: Sure, Joker, but unlike you, Shepard isn't a major pervert. Doubt she'd go for that._

_[17:12:59] Joker: You don't know that! Ash, you can confirm for us, can't you? Do YOU think the commander would creep around and spy on us? Or at least…on the girls? On you, in your room?_

_[17:13:20] Wrex: RED FLAG_

_[17:13:58] Garrus: Yeah, Joker, we're not supposed to cross that line. No talking about Shepard behind her back like this. It's the rule, remember?_

_[17:14:51] Joker: Aww, guys, come on… Can't we make an exception?! I'm dying here! Ashley is Commander Shepard's girlfriend! You don't understand how special that is to me… Shepard opened her heart up to the one person who's the most loyal to her. Gives me hope I'll find someone someday…_

_[17:15:21] Tali: That's very sweet and everything, but we have to follow the rules. No gossiping about Shepard, and no telling Shepard about this chat in the first place. It's simple._

_[17:15:45] Me: Yeah, Joker…you're being weirdly adorable right now… Rules are rules. Besides, I'm almost at my stop now. Can't talk once I'm there._

_[17:16:04] Joker: Okay, but can't you at least tell me where she's taking you tonight?_

_[17:16:30] Me: I don't know yet…_

_[17:16:41] Joker: But you ARE going to see her? That's what you're doing, right now?_

_[17:17:02] Me: I'm taking the monorail to her place. Why does it matter to you so much?_

_[17:18:40] Joker: Ash, look, it's not like I'm trying to live vicariously through you or some stupid crap like that. And I know I talk a lot of shit about how hooked you are on her. The thing is, I really care about how much you two care…about each other. All those dumb fire jokes actually mean something, you know! You two are the real deal. So I'm wishing you luck, all right?_

_[17:19:30] Me: Oh, wow… Um. Thanks, Joker… I really…don't know what else to say here._

_[17:21:03] Garrus: Well, that sure was unexpected._

_[17:21:30] Tali: I know, right? Joker actually being sincere for once? I can hardly believe it._

_[17:21:40] Wrex: I agree_

_[17:22:33] Joker: AND you and Shepard are mega fucking hot together! BOMBSHELLS! Ashley Williams, the ultimate indestructible soldier babe is dating Commander Shepard, the ultimate infiltrator Spectre badass! I'm telling you, it doesn't get any better than this!_

_[17:22:40] Tali: That didn't take long at all._

_[17:22:40] Wrex: I agree_

_[17:22:49] Garrus: Wait a minute… Wrex? What are you agreeing with?_

_[17:23:20] Joker: He's agreeing with what I said! Look at the timestamps!_

_[17:23:40] Me: I have to go now… I'm at my stop. I'll see you guys later. Hope you have a great party._

_[17:23:55] Tali: Bye, Ashley! Be safe, and have fun with Shepard tonight!_

_[17:24:03] Garrus: Chief, don't you mean, "I should go"? You should go._

_[17:24:30] Wrex: HAHAHA I'm standing right next to you Garrus but also laughing here, so funny_

_[17:24:32] Joker: See ya, Ashley…_

* * *

That conversation with the team stayed fresh in my mind as I left the monorail car at Central Station.

Still listening to music, I walked through this access tunnel of the station, following my omni-tool's navigation system for directions. I passed by abandoned magazines sitting on random chairs, some trash littering the place here and there, and so many people of all walks of life, everywhere. Just from the material of this green tile underneath my feet, and the green and orange tiles all around on the walls, everywhere, I knew my heavy footsteps from these boots had to be seriously echoing right now. Even the sound vibrations from the noise and conversations in here at least reached my ears.

Leaving the general area for line two—the monorail line I'd taken to get here—I kept my eyes to the ceiling more so than my omni-tool, looking for the right sign to take, to exit the station.

That noise again: almost interrupting my music, I walked by some punks dancing and busking for an impromptu audience of other civilians sitting and watching nearby. They looked like teenagers, probably blasting their obnoxious teenage music. Most of the people sitting around them were busy on their omni-tools anyway, not really paying attention. I guessed they must've been more bored than anything.

Plenty of armed police officers walked by me, too, patrolling the access tunnel. _San Diego Police Department_ emblazoned over their armored uniforms of blue and gold, they carried their assault rifles out in the open as they went. Some of them looked me up and down from behind their helmets, maybe trying to figure out if I was from around here, or if they recognized me somehow. There _was_ some overlap between Earth's police force and the Alliance. Retired military to police was pretty common.

Like some of the civilians around me, though, seeing all of these cops here made me nervous.

I felt _less safe_ with them around.

I took my headphones off, feeling a sudden need to be more alert.

Hurrying down the stairs instead of taking the escalator, I kept following the signs, kept moving. I hadn't expected any of this in a place so close to Shepard's apartment—not at all. Even if this was just the monorail station, I figured she'd live somewhere spotless and pristine, almost.

Then again, Shepard wasn't some stuck-up snob. She had _standards_ , but she still had an edge to her.

No matter how much money she had, these streets were a part of her. They were in her blood.

Finally finding the right overhead sign leading out to Jefferson Drive, I followed it to the correct exit, down another set of stairs next to an escalator again.

Outside through the automatic glass doors, I found that golden mist again, practically breathing it in.

Pulling my eyesight upward, I saw a gigantic advertisement on the building just across from me, here at the top of the stairs leading down to the street level. There on the tall billboard halved by a monorail line, the Alliance News Network promised to deliver fair and balanced coverage of the galaxy's most important stories. Those newscasters in Alliance uniforms looked sincere and honest enough…

Dark gray of those same rain clouds looming overhead, I felt the slight chill from this drop in temperature compared to the station. Less dense and metropolitan than the rest of the city, this area still had glowing advertisements everywhere, breaking up that gold with splashes of bright blue and red. Not-so-tall buildings, but still high enough to obscure enough of the sky—this place felt a little more down-to-earth, with liquor stores, movie theaters, and pizza shops that I could spot in the distance.

Faint wailing from ambulance and police sirens off in the distance, I saw a police station across the way. Explained why there were so many cops in the access tunnel. Still made me nervous, though.

Heading down the stairs to Jefferson Drive, I followed the street straight ahead. I walked by an alleyway with a few guys chain-smoking some old-fashioned cigarettes back there, the street lights misting down more of that golden haze everywhere. Following the road, I went past this pantheon of a bank, until I saw the street sign abbreviated as G.d. River Rd. _God River Road?_

Whatever it was, the road wrapped around off to the left past the bank, so I kept going that way.

I liked these brick-and-mortar, Mom and Pop stores on the road to Shepard's apartment building: those pizza shops and liquor stores, Mexican restaurants, and some computer shops and auto repair places. I really liked that they still existed in this day and age, even though some of them had shut down—a few empty buildings had those _For Rent_ signs plastered all over the inside windows.

Next to those empty buildings, I spotted a bunch of groups of women wearing some…interesting clothes, this early in the night. Too busy smoking and talking in their groups, most of them didn't notice me. But then, a few of them did take the time to look at me, smirking once they did. They assumed I had money, so of course they wanted to talk to me, somehow not caring or even _liking_ that I wasn't a man.

"Hey hottie, where you going? I see you with those nice-looking clothes on. Why don't you come over here, let me check and see if all of it's real?"

"Slow down for a minute, baby… You sure are fine. Got some time to head 'round the back? 'Cause I've got _all night_ for you, that's for damn sure… You look like a real nasty girl, and _I love it."_

"Perfect tits, strong thighs, _and_ a scrumptious ass? Mmm, honey, you must have _all_ the boys callin' you sexy. And with _that face,_ you can get it any time. Stick around for a while—let me sit on that face of yours, ride those thick lips real good 'til you make me come. I bet you like that, don't you?"

Then they started laughing, blowing smoke over here, since they _knew_ I couldn't say anything back.

I just ignored them and kept walking…

Once I finally made it to the apartment complex—the Chiron Building—I had to stop and stare.

The tallest building on the block, it looked like some kind of concept piece straight out of a museum… Experimental, even fashionable for a piece of architecture, the sharp, jagged edges of black and white glass everywhere definitely reminded me of Shepard, mixed in with this mist, too. The windows started to look normal again the higher up I could see, so this complex wasn't totally out of place.

Through the doors, the warmth of this gorgeous lobby felt like a serious contrast to the grunge from outside. A lot like a hotel lobby—kind of like the one at the US Grant—these polished marble floors held most of the light around. Chocolate brown of the patterned wood everywhere, that was what made this place feel so warm and homely, even if the flooring and lighting made things look more upmarket than that. And the lighting itself—it came from the hanging beams of chrome along the ceiling, lit up with lights at the end like flashlights, but gathered together as an avant-garde chandelier.

There were a few people sitting around here in the lobby, reading their e-magazines, browsing their omni-tools, and watching the Alliance News Network broadcast on the TV screens along the walls. The clerk behind the desk didn't pay me any mind, too busy arguing on the phone over some maintenance ticket a resident had put in, to fix their broken mirror. The damage to the mirror was apparently way too much for the apartment managers to pay for on their own, but the resident wasn't willing to budge, either. So now the clerk was pissed that she was stuck in the middle of the whole thing.

Who would break a mirror like that and seriously expect the apartment managers to pay for it?

At the central elevator, I pressed the up button and waited. Next to me, a janitor tried to get rid of some vandalism on the wall: someone had spray painted the Cerberus logo there, just to be a dick. The janitor grumbled the whole time, muttering about stupid kids, terrorists, and fascists. I couldn't blame him.

Inside the elevator, I went up to the 34th floor. Alone in here, I listened to the faint hum of the machinery taking me up. Listening to this one thing that should have calmed me, I felt myself shaking a little, nerves flooding my chest, my stomach. It wasn't even those bad memories from _that elevator_ bothering me. It was from…being here.

Being here, so close to where I should've been all along.

And I trembled a bit more, from how weird this was—

How I just… _knew where to go._

Leaving the elevator on the right floor, I headed down the carpeted hallway. Warmer woods, fancy wallpaper, and a dark pattern in the carpet that somehow reminded me of flashing neurons in the human brain: I felt a more sterile, scientific homeliness here. The wood and chrome on each of the doors I passed, they all had that extra adornment of a red light, of the lock of their door controls.

At apartment 3434, I stared at that red—wanting, needing, and hoping—before pressing the doorbell:

Not long after, the door slid open.

Shepard stepped outside with me, letting the door slide back behind her.

Not looking surprised to see me at all, she kept her head down, subdued.

Hair down as usual, and so very at home, Shepard only had on a boyish white tank top over her sports bra, a pair of black sweatpants, and pure white socks. I got to see this shape of her arms, how chiseled she was without much raw muscle at all. So slim, she had a pair of under armor pants on beneath her sweats. Like she had just gotten out of bed, one of her leg pants ran up halfway over her shin, showing the tightness of the gray fabric underneath.

I had no idea why that one thing was so sexy to me.

Remembering myself, I held Shepard's heated face in my hands.

Not wanting to overwhelm her, I only gave her a short kiss, as a thank you—for the gifts, for everything.

And I felt her welcome in this persistent pull from her lips, from her touch, _from her,_ here with me.

Still holding her face, I whispered over her glowing skin, "I missed you, Shepard… I missed you _so much."_

"Ash…"

"What's wrong?" I asked. "You haven't been yourself these days. You have to know that I'm worried…"

Shepard shook her head, like she didn't want to talk about it.

Then she held my hand, guiding me inside the spacious apartment with her:

That smell of her, _everywhere,_ and this ethereal golden light beaming through the windows.

"Welcome back, Commander Shepard," greeted the artificial voice of her home's VI, linked to her security system. _Welcome back,_ since she had only stepped outside. It was so sentimental and sweet.

With that voice, the light beamed through the windows more, as the blinds raised up automatically.

I could hardly take in this feeling of Shepard taking my jacket off for me, dazed as I was by her home.

Eye-catching, she had more of those chrome beams over her ceiling—shorter, thicker, these stayed there in the same avant-garde styling from the longer ones in the lobby, so fashionable.

From where I stood with her now at the entrance, we were on top of a cold, shining, chrome-like surface that extended up to her wall—at least over here, and down the few steps leading to the kitchen to the left of the door, and again, down the dozen or so steps leading off to the living room and the rest.

That kitchen was shaped like a hallway: not too big, but with just enough space to have _space._ Carved out behind a door frame with shining dark wood sculpted in more of this city's ultramodern style, I saw how neat and organized everything was in Shepard's kitchen. And so simple: a single refrigerator at the end of the space, a single sink on the right side with an open slot in the wall showing the living room, and near-empty shelves and cabinets on the left side. She had her alcohol, though—wines, champagnes.

Shepard had knelt down at some point to take off my boots for me, since I was too distracted to do it myself. I managed to lean against the cold surface of the chrome behind me, still looking around.

The living room itself had a few of those tall windows along the far wall, shining that pale gold mist through here. The light illuminated the long table running across that wall, beneath the windows, holding up a bunch of Shepard's old sniper rifles, all spaced out in such an orderly way. A little bit out of my view with the kitchen in the way, I saw a huge TV screen along the wall adjacent to those windows. It was still powered off, so she definitely hadn't been in here watching it or anything.

More than the TV, I felt my attention stuck on the layers of shelves all along that same wall, surrounding the screen and rising up to the moderately high ceiling. On those shelves, Shepard had centuries'-worth of video games there, both the games and plenty of consoles on display. Mint condition, perfectly boxed and sealed, and all well-taken care of: even I could tell that her collection had to be worth a fortune.

Done with my boots, and standing again, Shepard said, "Are you hungry, babe? I can make dinner for us if you want. I was about to start looking for something anyway when you got here…"

Grinning, I replied, "If you're cooking, sure. Thanks, Skipper."

"Do you have a taste for anything in particular?" she asked, leading me to the kitchen with her.

"Hmm, how about seafood again?" I suggested.

Shepard washed her hands at the sink. "You liked that shrimp last night," she noted. "I can make some. I usually only eat steamed white rice as a side thing. It's boring, I know—but safe. Will that work for you?"

"Sounds perfect!"

"All right, then."

Watching Shepard here at home, in her own kitchen, this all felt so satisfying to me. She was still subdued for those same reasons of hers, but I could tell she was at least a little more comfortable here. I only wished I could have watched her make everything from scratch: she apparently already had some shrimp pre-seasoned in her refrigerator. So all she had to do was put everything in her smart oven, letting it cook the way she wanted it to on its own—the timer read half an hour.

Once she was done with that, Shepard washed her hands again. She led me out the kitchen, down those dozen or so chrome steps, and into the living room. Basking in this light, I almost didn't notice there was some kind of guest room connected to the rightmost wall, opposite the TV. And near the TV itself, there was another short hall, probably leading to her master bedroom.

Shepard turned the TV on. "Sorry I don't have a dining room table, by the way," she told me. "We'll have to sit on the couch. Is there anything you want to watch? I need to take a shower. It's been a long day…"

I just noticed that she didn't have a dining room table, like she said. All she had in the living room, besides that table with her sniper rifles, was a low coffee table, a single, long couch, and a separate chair, all matching the chocolate brown of the woods, the cold chrome of the walls in duality.

Seeing that she had it on the news, I said, "This is fine for now. I actually…wanted to look around for a bit first, while you're in the shower. If that's okay. Your place is really nice."

"You can look around if you want," allowed Shepard. "The remote's there on the table if you need it."

Cautious, I asked, "Is there anything you _don't_ want me to see? Something that's off-limits?"

Shepard thought about it and replied, "If it's sitting out, you can look at it. I don't mind." She glanced me over. "I like what you picked out for today. It suits you." Hesitating for a bit, she left down that hall to her bedroom. "I won't be long. We can watch something once I'm back, then head out after we eat."

"Head out where?" I wondered.

Stopping to turn and look at me, all she gave me was, "You'll see, babe."

Too curious for my own good, I could only wonder more as she disappeared down the hall.

I really wished she would open up to me about whatever was wrong…

Shepard had to know that I was here for her; that I wanted to support her.

But I already knew I couldn't push it, otherwise I might've pushed _her_ away instead.

Sighing, I wandered over to her video game collection along the wall. I tuned out the news story that was on—the Alliance News Network yet again—talking about some asari, Nassana Dantius, who worked at the Citadel, and the weird sob story she had about her criminal sister supposedly screwing her over.

Then again, that name sounded familiar… _Nassana Dantius._

I kept thinking back to an asari on the Presidium, trying to buy Shepard off in exchange for handling that dirty business with her shady sister. And Shepard had brushed her off, not at all interested in the bribe money. Yeah, I remembered now. Too bad—it sounded like we could've helped somehow. Oh well.

Here over the wall, Shepard had her games organized by type and genre.

The largest section of her shelves, she'd dedicated to stealth video games. I saw a bunch of the same titles over and over again, with sequels and spin-offs across all sorts of systems— _Hitman, Deus Ex, Thief, Assassin's Creed, Splinter Cell…_ Across from those, she had grouped what I guessed were Japanese games even with some English titles— _Yakuza, Shin Megami Tensei, Final Fantasy, NieR, Drakengard, Sekiro: Shadows Die Twice…_

I was a little disappointed that she didn't have _any_ first-person shooter games, or sports games. I used to play both of those with Dad when he was still alive. He and I were super casuals and just played whatever popular, annualized FPS or sports game that had recently come out during any given year— _Call of Duty, Madden, Battlefield._ Even though I was pretty good at them, I'd avoided video games for the longest, since they reminded me of Dad, making me miss him. But I could laugh now, wondering if Shepard would turn her nose up at me if she knew that we'd only played _those casual games._

Completely random, one of Shepard's other games caught my eye, grouped with her Japanese ones.

This beautiful white box art of a bright, detailed, hand-drawn, watercolor-like goddess…

_Final Fantasy XI Online: Wings of the Goddess Expansion Pack._

_Wings of the Goddess…_

I raised my hand to the sealed box, touching the in-tact plastic there.

She knew…

Shepard knew all this time—that she had a piece of my family's history here. This _had_ to be the game!

I used my omni-tool to take a picture of it, saving this to my memories.

Hoping this wasn't too weird, I took a few pictures of the rest of Shepard's apartment, too. I wanted something to remember it by—something to look back to once we were off on the _Normandy_ again.

I headed into the guest area next, finding an office space that doubled as a bedroom. Right across from the doorway, Shepard had a desk with her private terminal there. On the desk, she didn't have any pictures or anything. No knick-knacks. Nothing. Just her terminal, and hardcover books in neat stacks:

_Lies My Teacher Told Me: The Truth About America's Racist Roots_

_Handling Your New Tactical Cloak Implants_

_Whitewashing the USA – A Journey Through Time_

_Anger Management_

_Beauty is Pain: Why We Idolize Fashion Models_

_Finding Zen in Meditation_

I touched the spines of each book, lingering here in the light next to the window.

I couldn't help feeling like I had so much more to learn about Shepard, about her life, her values.

And I _did_ want to learn. More than anything. I wanted to know everything about her—good and bad.

Across from the window, and along that wall there, Shepard had a low bed there, the pillows and comforter made together neatly. Untouched, as if no one had slept there in a long time, in years.

Next to the bathroom, I saw a long dresser with a bunch of datapads organized on the surface:

Letters dating back years ago, all of them addressed to Shepard—mostly Alliance correspondences, like from Captain Anderson, or her other commanding officers from the past, praising her work ethic, her attention to detail, her dedication, and her professional leadership. I smiled at these, glad that Shepard valued things like this. She cared about her place in the military, and she took it seriously.

At the top of one of these piles of datapads, I found a more personal letter addressed to her. From the date written here, it looked like the person mailed this to her during our current mission, not long after Eden Prime. She must have collected it recently while we were here, picking up her old mail all at once.

Looking back over my shoulder, I wasn't sure if I should read this. I picked it up, second-guessing myself.

But it _was_ sitting out here in the open…

_Shepard,_

_I believe that is what I should call you now, like everyone else. No more special treatment for me, hm?_

_It's been ages, I know. I'm surprising myself in writing this to you. I hope that this letter does not stir up any unwelcome emotions. Writing these words—it has certainly stirred up a thing or two for me. Mostly because we didn't exactly leave things on the best note. We didn't get the chance to truly put things to pasture. But perhaps that is what you wanted, since you disappeared with no explanation. Again._

_You had disappeared before. Blocked me, devastated me. I thought that the last time would be the same: you would come back, and we could continue on. That was foolish of me to think, wasn't it?_

_Either way, I wanted to send you my congratulations. I saw on the news recently that you've become the first human Spectre. That is quite the accomplishment! I also watched the vid of your induction, with your team standing proudly behind you. Listening to your speech to the Council, it nearly brought me to tears, as that was precisely the woman I knew of you years ago. You have certainly grown into a massive personality across the galaxy, despite your reticence. I do wonder how you deal with all the (unwanted) attention. I can see you scowling over it now._

_I can only hope that you've found some way to move past things. Things with me, and with your solitude. You have always been prone to be alone, preferring your space to the company of others. That space undoubtedly complicated our relationship for the longest. I could never tell if I was meant to run after you, or if doing so was actually a grave mistake. You seemed to punish me for my caution and my boldness both. I felt as if there was absolutely nothing I could do to please you. It was maddening._

_I remember preparing to propose to you anyway, with that madness, wishing to be your wife. You devastated me when you didn't show up. I should have known then. But I persisted, because I loved you more than anything. I was…so madly in love. I kept trying. That was all I knew;_ _you_ _were all I knew._

_If I'm honest, that madness still haunts me today. I still see the same colours of that madness in my nightmares every so often, dressed as your sunlight. It is part of what caused me to write to you._

_So if this is unsolicited, then please forgive me. You know how very nosey I am. That's not changed._

_And I know you've moved on. Retreated back to your solitude, your one true love and protection. After all this time, it does still sting, knowing that I could never compete with the obsessions you keep. I wasn't good enough for you. Simple as that. Simple, but ruthless in how much it lingers and hurts, even now._

_You always did resent me for my contradictions. I must give you another—one last time—by wishing you luck in finding something to pull you out of your solitude. Whether it is your work in the military, your video games, or a new woman who will be more than good enough, I want only the very best for you._

_Perhaps she will not be as cautious as I was. Perhaps she will not be as perfect as you claimed I wanted to be. And perhaps she will not need to control you in the ways I craved for us in trust. But I do know that she will be unexpected, entering your life at maybe an inopportune time for you, at first. And I know that she will be beautiful, both inside and out—she will challenge you, and she will push you to new heights, to become even greater than you are today. She will believe in you to make the impossible possible._

_That last, I continue to do, even across this great distance. I believe in you as the galaxy's best and brightest, Commander. Certainly its brightest star and sun both. You have illuminated my life, leaving a long shadow behind me. Yet I will forever treasure all that you have given me in your brilliant intensity._

_Love,_

_J_

Reading this now, for myself, I felt this person watching me from somewhere, somehow.

Not with that same vibe from the hotel—of someone stalking me, stalking the team.

I only felt this person over my shoulder, observing me. And even then, she seemed so familiar to me, like I had met her before, but as someone else. I knew that this was Shepard's ex—the only ex of hers that she had told me about. From her words, I had a feeling I knew who she was. I remembered her face, her clothes, her status, from gossip magazine pictures of Shepard holding her hand at expensive venues: a high-profile international lawyer from out of the country. But there was more to it than that.

At least from the way she wrote, from the way she loved, her voice definitely _sounded_ familiar enough…

As much as I thought I knew her, maybe she really did know me, too.

I held that familiarity close, setting her letter back where I'd found it, as carefully as I could.

I was about to leave this guest room. Then I caught sight of something out of the corner of my eye.

Through to the off-white hexagonal tiles of the bathroom, the cylindrical, pod-like shower in the corner, and the long sink along the wall, I saw it:

That memory of an impact, shattering outward from one spot, like wide, cracked rays of glass sunlight.

That memory was right here in this broken glass. That broken mirror.

I should have been afraid.

I should have left this room, letting those fears get the better of me.

Instead, I looked at the glass—really looked at it—before jumping to conclusions.

It would've been too easy for me to believe that this happened recently. Looking over the mirror now, I could tell that this had been here for a while: thick layers of dust had collected along the fractured lines. More layers, of mist from countless warm showers in here—those also lay over the glass, obscuring my reflection way past the damage here already.

This had definitely been here for a long time. Maybe even years.

I wondered why Shepard had decided now was the best time to get this repaired?

Since it sounded like her apartment managers didn't want to pay to get it fixed, this was here to stay.

Along the counters and shelves around the sink, I noticed all the meds Shepard had here out in the open. Normal painkillers for headaches, and allergy medicine. A bunch of specialized painkillers to deal with the strain from keeping her tactical cloak activated for too long. I also saw some protein bars specifically for muscle gain, ignored and unopened. Checking the packaging on these, they'd expired years ago. Some of these had even gone bad a decade ago, but I couldn't smell them or anything.

Feeling like I would be back here specifically at some point, I finally left the guest area.

I went through the living room, past the TV still on the news, and past the opening of the kitchen, smelling the spices over the shrimp that was almost done cooking.

I followed the sounds of the running shower leading me to Shepard's master bedroom.

A smooth, soothing chill here found me right away, that scent of hers strongest in here.

Just like Shepard herself, this chill still managed to warm me up somehow, feeling like home to me.

More tall windows, more lights of gold, she had the perfect view of the city from here, lighting this space instead of an actual, dedicated electrical light anywhere. Taller buildings off in the distance, scowling and brooding just like always, the lights from the start of nighttime glittered out there.

Still listening to the sounds of water coming from her closed bathroom door, I took a closer look at her windows. I felt…uneasy as I walked over to the windowsill, sensing something there. Like Shepard had rejected someone—gently, understanding. And I saw this thing here, this piece that made me frown: a picture in a frame, sitting here on this windowsill, shadowed by the haze filtering in through the glass—

A picture of Shepard and Liara at the Citadel, on the Presidium together, smiling at each other in peace.

I scowled darker than the night so far, leaving the picture be. And those traces of rejection there, too…

Here in this early night, Shepard's full-sized bed surprised me. She had just enough space for herself and one other person—and no more. Nothing extra. Nothing more than she absolutely needed. But she still had a bunch of comfortable-looking pillows there against the dark brown of the headboard, darker than the chocolate of her walls. Dull gold of her comforter, and the plush of those pillows, I could see her getting lost in that space, falling away from this apartment, from this city, from this planet altogether.

Next to her bed, she had two nightstands at either side, the same color wood as her headboard. That same shade, I saw in her dresser styled in more modernism, just like her bed, and these nightstands.

The nightstand closest to the door caught my attention.

She only had one thing sitting here…

Another picture, framed, but bigger.

This picture…was of us. Shepard and me. Somehow, this was from when we were on Noveria, on that tram from Central Station to Rift Station. Shepard sat next to me in her stealth suit, with her ankle crossed over her knee and her arm spread out opposite me, like she did whenever she was comfortable and showing off. I was right next to her in my dark camouflage armor at the time, with my legs crossed, trying so hard to keep everything in: how ecstatic I was that we had spent time together on the way there, and that I'd gotten through to her, even kissed her in the middle of a high-priority mission.

The way we looked at each other here, it was way obvious we had something on our minds. It was only for a second—I remembered. Only for a second that I'd met her eyes like this, and she'd met mine the same way. That second had been so perfect for me, capturing everything I wanted. I could never forget.

Tali must have taken this… She was sitting across from us at the time, checking her omni-tool.

I definitely needed to ask her if she had more of these.

As soon as I heard the shower water turn off from Shepard's bathroom, I bolted back down the hall.

Yeah, she gave me permission to look around freely, but I somehow doubted that included her room.

Knowing her, she would _know_ that I was in there anyway…

I went back to the living room, sitting down on the couch; still smelling that incredible progress from her cooking so far. Since the next football game wasn't on tonight, I browsed through Shepard's most-watched programs. It was just the Alliance News Network here—or the fashion channel. That was it.

Laughing over how she was such a _simple person,_ I checked the fashion channel to see what was on.

Dark clothes, dark-skinned models, bright backgrounds: this looked like a runway show. Smaller-scale and more intimate than the ones I was used to seeing, the models walked along a winding path in between those glamorous-looking people in the audience sitting in their chairs. No one ever clapped or anything—they just watched with a deep fascination, adoring every single look there on display. And those outfits _were_ really pretty, the black there sculpted as structured ruffles or long, flowing gowns…

This music hypnotized me, too. Strong, dark beats with a real purpose, like the models' strutting.

All of this reminded me of a certain someone; made me wish that this someone would get back into the industry, at least every now and then on the side for fun… _if_ she did enjoy it like that.

I couldn't know how long I'd spent watching this before Shepard herself came back in here, finding me with my eyes practically glued to the screen. Dressed in something like what she had on earlier, but with a short-sleeved T-shirt this time, she didn't pull my attention away on purpose. She might have smiled at me—I wasn't sure—before heading to the kitchen to finish up with dinner.

I still wasn't all there once Shepard set a bottle of wine on the coffee table, along with two glasses.

And I wasn't quite there once Shepard came back again, this time with two steaming plates of broiled shrimp and white rice—one for her, and one for me—as her simple specialty.

Amused, she interrupted me, "Ashley, it's ready."

"Oh!" I said, taking the plate of food she'd made for me. "Sorry for spacing out there… Thanks, Skipper! This looks amazing. Didn't realize how hungry I was until now."

Sitting next to me, and pouring our wine into the glasses, Shepard asked, "Have you eaten at all today?"

"Um…ice cream?"

"Babe, that's not _food…"_

"I know," I admitted. "Trust me, I know… I was just—depressed. And frustrated. Eating my feelings."

Shepard watched me eat first, knowing that I enjoyed it. And I really, really did—even though I felt this reminder of that knife twisting through my heart. I never wanted to feel that again. But I knew I would. I was bound to, especially with her habits, with the way I needed her so much.

I was so tired of thinking, of worrying…

Eating this food Shepard had made for me, and drinking more of this same moscato I remembered from her birthday at midnight, I stared at the TV without thinking. Only worrying. I worried and worried, because that was all I _could_ do. Because even though Shepard was here next to me, finally, it felt like we were worlds apart. Like she had something on her mind, so pressing, and she wouldn't share it with me.

Yet here I was anyway, loving her great cooking, and loving her limited company, despite everything.

For some reason, I wasn't even scared that I would end up like her ex. Her exes. Any of them, at all.

What scared me the most…was that I knew I would stay in love with Shepard regardless, regardless of anything that might've happened. I had no way out. I was in too deep at this point. I wanted her, I wanted _everything_ with her, everything imaginable and unimaginable. No one could compare to her.

So then she would keep running, and running, and running, and I would stay after her…

Out of the blue, Shepard looked at me and asked, "Who are you at your worst, Ash?"

Snapping out of my thoughts a bit, I shifted them to this odd question, to give her my honest answer:

"It depends… Everyone says that I'm like fire. I feel like I could burn everything down if I had to. Burn it all to the ground. Maybe because I felt like it…or maybe because I didn't care. If I really lost myself somehow, then…I'd want to watch the world burn. For no reason. Just to see it burn. Just because."

"Just because you could?" guessed Shepard.

"Yeah… Just because I could," I repeated. "You know, to have some kind of control again. _Some."_

"Because it's your decision," she guided, taking my empty plate, my empty glass from my hands.

"It _is_ my decision," I agreed, watching her set my plate on top of hers, over the table, with the glasses.

"Do you feel powerless with me, Ashley?"

"No, Shepard. I don't. Not when I'm around you again."

Puzzling over my answer, she asked, "Why not?"

"Because it's my decision to be here," I asserted. "It's always my choice. I never feel forced into anything with you, like it's out of my control. You make me feel safe, like I'm honestly at home for the first time in my life. Like I don't have to keep… _moving around_ anymore. So, whatever happens, I'll follow you."

Shepard knew that kind of sounded like a contradiction, but she accepted my answer anyway.

She pulled me closer to her, lying us down over the couch. This time, she held me in her arms, letting me listen to her heartbeats, how slow and steady they were. And she felt exactly like home, exactly like before, but more—like I didn't have to worry about anything…except for our actual reality.

I wanted to change that.

It felt like Shepard was so close to something with me. Like all I had to do was say the right thing, be in the right place at the right time, and she would…go for it.

God, I wished I could have just read her mind…

That would've made things so much easier for me. But nothing could ever be easy or simple with her—except for the times when they were, when it was part of who she was.

I felt my heart pounding so badly with how much I needed her—how I needed her _so much closer to me._

Staring out the windows at that golden heaven of her blood, I whispered, "I love you, Shepard."

Her heart picked up to the exact same pace as mine.

The exact same, plain as a metronome, as two separate, opposite songs in-sync with one another.

But she only gave me dissonance: "…I know."

I curled into her, holding her tighter. Closer, tighter. So much closer than I could ever fathom. Because I didn't want to feel this pain alone. Not anymore. If Shepard was going to hurt me like this, then I needed her to be here. I needed her in front of me, with her arms around me. I needed her to feel this in me, or not at all, because it was getting so much harder to deal with this on my own, without her.

All of that—or most of it—dissolved once Shepard held me even closer. She shifted around enough to stand up from the couch; to pick me up with her, again, so out of the blue. Novelty of this free feeling going strong, I let her carry me down the hallway, through to her room, to the comforting chill there.

Right away, I knew this wasn't about sex. Shepard wasn't spontaneous like this, and I had already told her I didn't want to lose my virginity to her in a bed. Besides, she wasn't lustful in any sense, so much as she was unpredictable and unreadable at the moment…but maybe in a good way.

Setting me down in the welcoming embrace of her pillows, she placed me on her bed, in the center.

Shepard crawled on top of me, the white of her T-shirt hanging down a bit to show her tank top underneath, and the bends and slopes of her slender neck and shoulders there. Keeping her face close enough to mine, she studied me for a bit, watching me watch her, watching the way I did it: waiting for her without any expectations whatsoever.

I wanted everything, and I did expect certain things from her…but right now, I chose to set that aside.

It was my decision. For her. And I knew she saw it. I knew she could tell.

"Ashley, there's something you should know," began Shepard. "Then again, maybe you already do. You've probably already figured it out."

Gazing at her with eyes wide with hope, I breathed out, "What is it…?"

Maybe unrelated from what I wanted in the moment, she confirmed, "Tonight…is the last night of shore leave. I'm expecting another call from the Council by tomorrow morning. They're supposed to contact me about a priority briefing for our next mission. We're hot on Saren's trail. Only a matter of time now."

"Oh… Okay, then," I accepted, remembering that we even had a mission at all. "The others kind of figured it out, like you said. I'll… I'll be ready, once it's time to head out again. You can count on me."

When it seemed like she expected me to say something else, and when I _didn't,_ Shepard sighed.

She lowered her head, the shine of her hair dulled in this lighting.

Still so free of expectations, I gathered her hair in my hands. Like reversing a waterfall, I tangled this silken softness in my hands just enough to keep everything behind her shoulders, holding her here.

And then, right with my touch, Shepard started shaking from her shoulders on down.

Only a bit, so beautiful in her rare vulnerability.

As persistent as this calm, reliable silence in her room, she had more to say to me:

"Ashley," she said, a little harder than she intended. "Tonight…is the last night…of shore leave."

"You said that already," I reminded her, gentle, even though she probably didn't _need_ reminding.

Shaking her head at me in light amusement, Shepard gave me one expectation back: "You said that you would wait until shore leave is over—but we have a mission directly after this. We might not have enough time to talk freely afterward… So, it would be better if you gave me your answer…soon. Now."

Dazed all of a sudden, I wasn't sure if I'd heard her correctly.

Shepard saw it in my eyes.

She knew that I needed her to pin down this new reality.

She knew…that I needed her to _ask me._ The right way this time.

She sighed again, stabilizing, to stop herself from shaking. She tightened her arms, raising one of her hands to my face reddened under the controlled heat of her stare. She gave me that heaven, just in my reach, without letting me extend my arms out to her. She kept me here, needing me in this place, in this spot here before her, without moving, without letting her out of my sight—unblinking, unflinching.

"Maybe…it's symbolic," continued Shepard, deeper than before. "Symbolic that I first asked you when I couldn't see you, look into your eyes. And it's symbolic that I'm asking you again now, now that you're here at home with me—where you should've been all along." So much deeper, she stared into my eyes with hers, bottomless with her experiences that had all brought her here to confess: "Be with me, Ashley. I want you—all of you. I need you to be mine. Mine, and no one else's. Please…stay with me."

One more thing…

One more thing I needed—"Shepard…tell me the rest. _Tell me._ Say the words to me. I need you to…"

Leaning into me, hiding against me, Shepard thought she could avoid my eyes for this.

I turned to face her, her face against mine, searching for those words in her.

So close like this, the light from the room couldn't reach us, not all the way. That night vision of her eyes again, impossibly bright and full of color, full of life despite her fears: Shepard let me stay this close to her. She let me taste these beads of sweat building along the pores of her skin, the veiled red there fit to burst with her heart this near to mine.

"I only want to be with you, Ash," she said. "The thought of being with anyone else…it makes me feel sick to my stomach. Guilty." Absolute fulfillment, and almost to the rest; complete satisfaction, and almost to the universe—"And I want…everything we talked about. Everything we agreed on. Please…"

She wouldn't say it.

 _She wouldn't say it_ …but I wasn't about to tell her no because of this.

Not with the way she sounded: exactly like this heaven I'd always imagined of her, living and breathing.

I smiled with that heaven, and wrapped my arms all the way around her shoulders, pulling her into me.

Giving her this joyful smile over her mouth, I finally told her, "And my answer is yes… But you knew that already, didn't you?" Shepard let out an exhale, collapsing into her pillows beside me, and burying her face, like she was _seriously_ surprised by this. "Hey! Shepard, did you really think I'd turn you down!?"

Shepard just grumbled into that fluff there, hiding from me again.

I laughed, getting as close to her face as I could. "Okay, you're being _incredibly_ adorable right now… Still, I don't get it—how could you think I'd say no to you?"

Finding a way to breathe through her mouth, she mumbled out, "I've been…a jackass to you lately."

"Mmm, I wouldn't say that," I insisted. "Not a jackass. You've been distant, sure. Just not a jackass."

"That's bad enough, babe… I don't like hurting you. It hurts _me_ when you're upset. I can't stand it."

Now definitely wasn't the time to get into the details about this.

Her reasons, her behavior—none of that mattered to me right now.

If this was just about her being too scared to tell me she loved me, then I could live with that.

And the last thing: we could figure out the contract later, after whatever this next mission was.

For now, I tried pulling her over to me, to kiss her. "Shepard, will you come here already?"

"…what for?"

I laughed again. "What do you _mean,_ what for? What else?! I'm your girlfriend now, and you haven't kissed me enough. So come here!"

Shepard wouldn't budge. "Ashley…I'm no good at this," she admitted. "This is… _ugh."_

"You're acting like you're allergic to me all of a sudden," I teased. "Is it _really_ that bad for you?"

She grumbled again.

I couldn't even be mad at her.

"This is honestly hilarious, Skipper," I told her in good fun. "Who knew you were so shy? I figured you just weren't affectionate at all, not— _nervous_ about it. But I bet the second sex is involved, or you're back in your comfort zone some other way, those nerves disappear in a flash. Is this your kryptonite?"

"Babe, I'm not _normally_ an affectionate person… _At all."_

"Normally?" I echoed, intrigued. "Am I—an exception?"

"Ash…"

"Shepard, if you won't come over here, then we have to talk instead. Rules are rules. Deal with it!"

Negotiating with me, she suggested, "Then why don't we talk while we're out instead? I still want to take you on another date tonight. The place may be a bit predictable, considering where we've already gone. I want to show you anyway. We won't get another chance for a while. What do you say?"

Never, ever would I forget Commander Shepard asking me out on a date while hiding her face in a bunch of pillows, all because she was too shy to make out with me in her bed like this.

"Okay then," I allowed, smiling way too much. "We'll go out, and _then_ talk. And then you're gonna shut up at some point and kiss me. Do we have a deal this time?"

"Yes, babe," said Shepard, facing me now. "Where we're going, I'll do more than kiss you. Count on it."

" _Wait a minute,_ what—?"

All of a sudden, Shepard buried me in this mountain of her pillows instead, ordering me, "Stay like this while I get changed. I'll only be a minute."

Buried here…yeah. "…we're _seriously_ going to have to work on this shyness thing with you, Skipper."

Shepard only crawled out of bed and went over to her holo-closet, somewhere near her dresser.

But I could tell her mood had at least improved by now, despite how…weird she was, in a sweet way.

So I stayed here, buried here in this bliss of softness that smelled so much like Shepard, like her hair, like her home and her heart. I savored this, knowing that I wouldn't be back here with her for a while. I treasured this, making new memories as I listened to Shepard fit herself into another outfit for the night, for me, for more memories of us together, officially, for the very first time.

And in these passing moments, with time slipping away from me like water slipping through my fingers, I prayed that I wouldn't wake up from this dream.

And if it _was_ all a dream, or just temporary somehow, I hoped that I never woke up from this.

* * *

Stitched to her now, in this wondrous pain—I never wanted to leave her side, intertwined in her skin.

Driving in Shepard's car again, driving back up to Coronado again—surprising me—she brought me to our destination for the night. On the way there, though, I took plenty of time to admire her, what she had picked out to wear, enjoying her through her blasting music as usual.

Holding her hand while she drove, Shepard kept my hand over her right leg again, over the tight faux leather there, the back of my hand resting along the golden zipper running across her front, each slot of gold linked together by hanging loops of more gold in the chains there. She had more of these shaped and patterned down her legs on both sides, those hanging chains chiming in her sexy confidence as she walked. Matching all, the almost-loose, almost-tight fit of her black sweater had a comfortable material along the front, with more leather over the back side shining in the city lights at night as we went.

Outside, after Shepard had parked, I kept my sight down at first, admiring her men's shoes. More leather, more black, the dull shine of her pointed ankle boots made her feet look a little bigger than they actually were. Perfect care of those squared tips—I could still tell that Shepard had owned these for a long time, having worn them across all sorts of places and situations, carrying her status forward in life.

She walked with a comfort about her in these, so classy and stylish even through the dirt of these busy streets: bending and clicking over the reality of this place, bending and clicking over our limited time.

Even with this limited time, I couldn't stop smirking to myself over her outfit. She cleaned up nice.

Holding my hand like always, Shepard guided me through these streets, knowing just where to go.

We passed by all kinds of electronics stores, open taco shops and bars, and even a gigantic brothel bustling in bright displays, those neon colors bursting through the dulled, dimmed golds around us. Lessened, less intense, and less brilliant, the outside lighting here seemed blunter, somehow, dimmed by the vague pollution from all the machinery everywhere, powering the buildings and the lights.

Even though these people passing us by weren't as glamorous as the ones I remembered from Fashion Valley, they weren't down-and-out or anything. The businesses here were packed with all kinds of customers. No one sitting out begging on the streets, thank God. No one looked like they needed help, or like they didn't know where to go. Just a few stray cats wandering around; people smiling at them.

As close as we were to the Alliance base here in Coronado, I actually saw a decent amount of military guys and girls around here instead. The usual meatheads, plenty of lanky, bright-eyed new guys, and even some polished upper-brass types wandered around in groups together, separated by status of course. They were either on shore leave in their Alliance fatigues, or taking the night off in their civilian clothes, dog tags still hanging from their necks in an obvious display of their duties and loyalties.

Of course, they stared at Shepard and me as we walked by, a lot of them stopping to get a better look.

A bunch of them were already in line at the building where Shepard meant to take me—and they stared so much harder as she brought me right to the front, skipping that long wait, again, just like before.

But even before I saw that line, or any of that staring, I felt the pervasive bass of the club's music deep in my chest, like it was part of me. Like it was somehow my lungs and my heart and the air here, loudening. I felt it more the closer we got to the tall building, the wide display of the eye-catching digital art playing out across the front: hanging above the line of people, a wave of golden light passed across the display, moving in-sync in a determined, thudding beat with the music blasting in loud vagueness out here.

Smooth, steady, and sexy in an edge of ego, confidence—this music reminded me of Shepard's outfit.

The sign in pale yellow letters over the chrome wall of the entrance read: _The 94th Aero Squadron._

I could've sworn I'd heard some chatter about this place before in passing—just as _the 94,_ though. Back when I served with the 212 on Eden Prime, some of my platoon members had been stationed here in San Diego, and they'd talked about this place. It apparently used to be a restaurant or something years back, but after the city started changing—gentrification up in the main city, forcing those with less money to live down here—the 94 had evolved into a club that still brought those worlds together.

From what I could tell, enlisted soldiers and officers alike enjoyed this place, even if the line _was_ long.

Bringing us closer to that beat thundering through my chest, Shepard took us to the double doors.

A scarred, suited bouncer spoke in a deep, intimidating voice, "Good to see you again, Commander Shepard. You and your beautiful lady can go right in. Your private VIP spot's waiting for you."

"Thanks," replied Shepard, opening the heavy door of chrome for me herself with ease.

As soon as we made it inside, that bass became me, blending with my breaths for all I knew.

Shepard shifted, keeping her hand along the small of my back in protectiveness. She stayed close to me, half of her body behind mine as she breathed close to my hair, alert as she guided me this way instead.

This wide open mezzanine with booths interconnected in the center: black and chrome everywhere, so much of it in the surfaces, lit again by a similar digital display on the high wall undulating that gold across. And so many people here, civilians and military both: hanging out together in blended groups near the booths and at the bar near the stairs, drinking together at that bar and checking out everyone who walked by, and dancing together next to the DJ booth protected behind bulletproof glass.

But, knowing Shepard, she of course didn't have us linger here. She guided me behind that bar, over to those stairs, the stairwell itself wide enough for plenty of tall tables with bar stools off to the side. Plenty of other people sitting at those tables stared after us as we went, recognizing us both from this close. I heard their gossip and wonderings, sure enough, and from there it started to spread across the club.

Caring and subtle, Shepard caressed my lower back with her nails, acknowledging the inevitable.

I smiled over it, glad that she was proud of me like this.

I also liked that it wasn't too loud here. We could have an actual conversation without talking over any noise or anything like that. The club's sound system prioritized the bass more than the music itself, really. This place reminded me of those fun drives in Shepard's car with her own music blasting.

We soon made it through this hallway of stairs and tables, making it to a circular balcony area overlooking the rest of the club, the mezzanine below. Here, I saw a bunch of officers, mostly, sitting along the low, comfortable seats connected to the smooth, dark walls: girls sitting on guys' laps, drinking, flirting, and laughing, and even some gay couples doing the same, all in one place, together.

Wrapping around this circle was another path leading to a different, brighter, bigger bar with way more space to sit or stand around nearby. I smiled again once Shepard led me in that direction. We hadn't gotten the chance to at least have a drink together when we were at Dark Goddess back on Thessia…

And maybe for good reason, since I _still_ couldn't remember everything that had happened that night.

Not too far away, just beneath the bass, I heard a group of guys speaking in Spanish together.

Since the music was in the way, my translation program couldn't piece their words together in English.

And one of those guys, I noticed him eyeing me from where he stood with his friends, close to the bar.

Leaning against the wall, I saw that he was freaking _ripped:_ gigantic, iron-thick muscles, with his tanned skin contrasting against the ink of his sharp tattoos along his neck and his arms. He had his black hair styled in a typical meathead haircut: cropped near his neck, short at the top, and with a short, stubby fauxhawk at the top. Running down from his sideburns, he had a nicely-groomed beard—not too thick, and not too shadowy. Somehow I could tell he was about my age, or maybe even the same age as me.

The light gray of his Alliance shirt stuck to him, skin-tight, almost like it was wet. Just like how his big, dark eyes had stuck to me. He licked his thick lips, smirking; watching me with that obvious intent of his.

His friends jostled him—talking in Spanish, they probably asked what he thought of me or whatever.

But they all knew he couldn't say anything to me, picking up right away that I was Shepard's girlfriend.

And he _was_ cute… Any other time, I might have wanted him to come over here, to introduce himself.

I was insulated from all of that now—happily loved-up and taken!

Still curious about his language, I turned my head toward Shepard right behind me, asking her, "Hey, Skipper, do you hear those guys over there? They're speaking Spanish, aren't they?"

"I hear them," she murmured in my ear. "It's not too surprising. We're kind of close to the soft border leading to Mexico. Tijuana is right there. Spanish might as well be the primary language around here."

"Yeah, I heard," I replied, noticing her fluent accent— _Tijuana._ "Does that mean you speak it, too?"

"I'm bilingual. I learned it out on the streets and in school. Plenty of my friends were Mexican, Puerto Rican, and Dominican. You can't really escape the culture around here. It's all blended together."

"So you can pretty much get along with anyone, huh? Fit in anywhere, like a chameleon?"

Shepard chuckled. "If I wanted to. _If I had to._ I guess you could say my upbringing was international."

Grinning like crazy, I _had_ to request, "Tell me something, then. Untranslated. I'll turn off my programs!"

"Hmm…all right, babe," allowed Shepard, already thinking of what to say. "Sit down first."

Here beneath the near-white lights of this upscale bar, Shepard had me sit on one of the seats.

Far enough away from other people, but still in-view of those guys checking us out—or really only me—I smiled over the insane collection of alcohol there behind the glass cabinets. And I smiled more once Shepard ordered a sangria for me, already knowing what I wanted. She didn't get anything for herself, maybe not yet, but I wanted her to. She was a little too busy thinking about what to say to me in Spanish. So, in that sense, I could forgive her for not drinking with me…yet.

While the bartender made my drink behind me, Shepard kept an eye on him.

She leaned closer to me, standing over me; looming, almost, and just as protective as ever…possessive, even, while she breathed next to my ear again. Always so subtle with her, never quite overt or off-putting: Shepard took advantage of her height over me, darkening my sight to her and only her. This power of hers, she held over me, shielding me and blocking me off from everyone and everything else.

Slavish of me, maybe, in the way I enjoyed this—how I loved this limited perception, of actually perceiving so much more because she was here with me.

Just to show her I was serious about this, I did turn off my translation programs.

I needed her raw…for once, for the first time.

"Ashley, are you sure about this?" she whispered to me, low and deep. "I might surprise you."

Grinning over the way she excited me, I whispered right back, "Oh, yeah?"

Shepard breathed a little harder, her neck's pulse picking up just next to me, so heated. "Yeah, I just might," she challenged. "If you do pick up on anything I say, you have to promise you won't look it up right away. Save it for later. I want to keep some of my mystery for now, babe…if you don't mind."

Needing her even closer, I held her around her shoulders, loving the way these lights dazzled her hair.

Breathing hotter now, Shepard let me do this, let me control her a bit while I held her here, _so_ insulated.

"Maybe I want you to surprise me," I teased, matching her heat, just as deep. "You _are_ mysterious in all the best ways… Doesn't mean you're not allowed to have a soft side. I know you're way sweeter and more sensitive than you let on—and I love that about you…"

Shepard flexed her arm supporting her against the bar, grunting. "You're not making this easy on me."

I laughed softly.

"And why would I do that, Shepard? Since when do I _ever_ give you an easy way out?"

She exhaled hardest, her pulse picking up louder and stronger than the bass of the music around us.

"Talk to me, then," I requested, again. "Impress me. Seduce me in Spanish, Shepard. Stop holding back for once. _For me."_ She wanted to move away: anxious, uncertain. "Come on, I _know_ you have it in you…"

Every single one of her breaths felt amplified against my ear, yet I still heard her so clearly:

"Eso que antes nunca comprendí, contigo, todo es claro ante mis ojos. Te deseo tanto, tantísimo. Eres mi corazón, mi aire y mi fuego. No puedo respirar sin ti. Con todo eso, Ashley, te amo completamente, plenamente."

I had no idea what she just said…but like her breaths, still going, _I felt_ her intentions, melting me.

I needed her to keep doing it to me, to keep going for me—"You sound so beautiful. Say that again…"

"Ash, no me entiendes, pero quería decirte esta noche: te amo completamente."

Falling away with her, she had me so fucking wet over this _—"God,_ please say it again…"

"Yo te amo, Ashley. Completamente. Me encanta tu belleza por dentro y por fuera. Eres mi diosa."

"Shepard… I _seriously_ wish you'd tell me what all of that means… Won't you give me anything?"

"Not this time, babe," she dodged, soaking me more when she kissed me, so suave. "Your drink's ready." Shepard brought the tall, rounded glass of red sangria closer to me: sliced fruits floating at the top, as that deceptive sweetness. "Sit here for a minute. I'm going to tell the other bouncers nearby to keep holding our area for now. Something tells me you might want to stay here for a while first."

I wondered if she knew: _"Something_ , huh?"

"Mm-hmm— _something."_ Shepard kissed me again, sweeter this time. "I'll be right back."

Turning around on this barstool, I moved in-time with Shepard walking away, walking off to talk to the bouncers standing guard next to a nearby door. And that non-military walk of hers, so poised and self-assured, like _she knew_ exactly what she was worth—I could hardly contain myself as I watched her go.

I turned all the way around to at least try my drink, keeping Shepard in my periphery.

Chilled at just the right temperature, I loved this balance of fruit and red wine, somehow even better than the last one I'd had the other night. Better…and a bit _stronger_ than I was used to. Maybe because this was a human drink, humans just knew how to make it taste the best. This human bartender kept looking at me, though, like he wanted to say something—possibly about that same group of Alliance guys still standing around nearby, with that one musclehead in particular _still_ checking me out. Sort of.

He wasn't as obvious as he was before, probably discouraged by, well, _reality._

He seemed like he was perfectly fine just standing there, staring at me for the rest of the night.

As long as he didn't come over here trying to _talk to me,_ I guessed it didn't really matter what he did.

I talked to the bartender anyway, ordering a glass of moscato for Shepard, mostly for something to do. I had the weirdest feeling that that guy _was_ somehow gathering up the courage to come talk to me. I wasn't sure if he still wanted to hit on me, or if he only wanted to know if I was here on a date with Commander Shepard—the one, the only. I knew he'd at least recognized her by now, if not me directly.

Before I knew it, I heard the chiming sounds of Shepard's hanging chains—she was back already.

She sat down on the barstool next to me, facing me completely.

Intrigued by her eyes on me like this, I kept sipping my sangria.

Shepard leaned closer to me, speaking in my ear—self-possessed, and so sexy, "What's good, Ashley?"

Grinning again, her good mood had me feeling a little shy, a little girlish all at once. _"Nothing…"_

"Nothing, huh?" she humored, nodding to the bartender who handed her that moscato. "Looks like you've been up to _something_ over here, buying me a drink. Thank you."

"Yep… Just wanted to pass the time. _You know."_

Sitting back in her seat now, Shepard asked, "Is he making you feel uncomfortable?"

I smiled over how much she paid attention to me like this. "Not _uncomfortable…_ He's—persistent. I thought he was gonna come over here any minute."

Shepard drank her white wine, eyeing me. "I can go tell him to fuck off," she offered. "If you want."

"You don't have to," I replied, amused by how serious she was. "He seems harmless. Let him stare."

"Mmm, all right, then."

Sipping more of my drink, I was surprised that it had started hitting me already.

I thought I'd _at least_ get halfway through the glass before I felt my head leaving me like this…

Not feeling the same with her _harmless_ moscato, Shepard prompted me, "We can have that talk now, if you'd like." When all I did was smile more, she held my hand closest to her. "I'm more relaxed. _In my element._ Not nearly as shy as before. I don't mind opening up to you about this."

"Well, you _should_ be more comfortable here," I reasoned, comforted by her touch. "Totally obvious this is your hunting ground. You practically own the place. I'm not the first girl you've brought here, am I?"

Shepard brought her lips over the back of my hand, so soothing. "You are, actually."

"Wait…really?"

"Yes, babe."

I drank more, weirded out by how much I believed her.

It had seemed so clear that Shepard would have brought some of her other girlfriends here. Or that she would've at least picked a girl up, brought her home… Then again, as closed-off as she tended to be, I couldn't imagine her having any one-night stands. And as stalker-like as it was, I didn't remember reading any gossip stories about Shepard bringing any of her exes to this club. So she wasn't lying.

Just like those lines in Spanish she'd given to me earlier, I felt something way deeper here…

Way, way more involved than she would tell me about, or even hint toward.

Full of patience, Shepard kept holding my hand, sipping her wine with her other one, gazing at me.

 _Yo te amo_ …shouldn't I have known what that meant? It sounded so simple. Common. Ugh, I was a little too tipsy to remember right now. It was on the tip of my tongue… And now I wanted Shepard between me, her tongue on me, giving me the meaning of that tongue of her second language—but only if _she_ made a move tonight. I didn't want to make myself too obvious. I wanted her to seduce me, all the way.

 _Eres mi diosa_ …sounded familiar, too. Or at least _diosa_ , like _dios mío_ , which I knew meant _my God…_

"Shepard, when you spoke to me…did you call me your— _goddess?_ Like in your note, with the roses…"

Pleased by my _very_ limited comprehension, she confirmed, "I did say that. Among other things."

I felt myself blushing again—from how suave she was, from this alcohol.

Sweating, too, from all of this, especially with her eyes on me, so damn intense—I couldn't stand it.

Gentle, Shepard stroked my burning face, my crimson neck, telling me, "You know, _sangre_ is Spanish for the word _blood._ Funny how the drink itself is so deceptively sweet. You get pulled in by the initial allure of that sweetness from the fruit, only for the red wine to kick in, get to your head… It's so strong—irresistible. It affects you. Changes you. More than you ever thought it could."

Her intentions were so clear to me…clearer than my head was right now.

Her intentions kept me sweating, kept me drinking while she drank, while she watched me like this.

Her intentions…had me breathing way too hard, my heart beating harder than this bass, this beat.

Completely unintentional, I barely realized that I'd finished my drink already. And Shepard had finished hers, too. She stared at me, at the way I couldn't look at her. She watched me as I felt my way back to reality, clinging to my perception of her to stay lucid. She decided that I wasn't _drunk_ —right at that tipping point, that place where I could have gone over, if only I'd had another sip. One more. Just one.

All of these sounds around us, of languid conversation and sultry flirting, of the music beating through the marrow of our bones, of alcohol bottles popping and people dancing; all of these sights around us, of the golden haze of these lights, of the brighter ones from the bar, of that Alliance guy looking…kind of sad now as he kept staring at me; and this singular smell of Shepard's scent with her so close to me like this—it all gathered together as such a focused takeoff in me, keeping me floating above my own mind.

She gave me such a high, a concentrated high from _looking at me_ like this…

And I would remember everything this time after drinking.

This sweet, heated haze made a road, a path straight through my chest, down to my stomach, down between me, suffocating my thighs in these leather jeans.

I felt it more, way more once Shepard stood up, wrapping her arms around my waist.

As soon as she touched me, so protective and primal—still respectful, always respectful— _that was it._

All my inhibitions— _gone._

Shepard circled her presence around me, holding me tight. "Ashley," she said, pressing her lips to my ear. "I want you. I want all of you, right now. Right fucking now—all night long." She had me shaking, panting; she held me tighter, breathing steady for me. "Are you still with me, babe?"

"Yes," I breathed out, hanging on to this reality. _"Fuck…_ I need you, Shepard. I need you to fuck me up."

She smiled, humming out her satisfaction, so carnal in a deep, cavernous smoke of sound.

"Come with me, Ash," guided Shepard, standing me up with her. "Walk in front of me."

I stayed glued to her front, half her front, while she walked with me, walking me, walking me ahead.

Ahead to those bouncers who let us through the door, to this dark, black hallway.

Private VIP areas, separate and far enough away from each other: each door held so many possibilities, so many secrets, as thick as those walls were. Thick even from here, those walls probably kept out most of the outside noise, keeping everything _inside_ instead. So thick, those walls would probably feel much harder against my back, harder, way harder…

Wandering my hand behind me to Shepard's pants, I sunk once I couldn't _find_ anything.

I whined at her, "Why didn't you wear it…?"

Shepard kept guiding me along, down the hallway. "Because I would have been hard the entire time," she justified. But that was what I wanted… "Not in these leather pants, babe. And not tonight. Not all at once. I have to give you something else to look forward to."

"Not blowing your whole load in me, then?"

"You're filthy, you know that?"

"Please…I'm just getting started," I told her.

She laughed a little, so menacing. "And so am I."

* * *

Unexpected from that menacing tease, from those hallways and those doors, those private rooms—Shepard brought us up an elevator, and outside to the club's rooftop. Crashing rain overhead, above this alcove-like covering keeping us dry, I could smell the brine, the salt in the air mixed with this area's machinery, sticking to the top of my mouth through my nose. Beneath our boots, the club's music continued to blast on, the sound reaching us in a dimmed way, still booming just enough for comfort.

Here in this sentimentality I hadn't seen coming, this metallic alcove had plenty of room. Like a perch, or a nest for a person, or a hideout, these walls protected the place from the rain, but with a wide enough opening to see the whole storm, the whole view of this part of the city lit up at night.

Artificial warmth heating from those surfaces, the rain was still right outside, water pooling in just enough to not get in the way, to not soak the leather of the couch nearby, the glass of the cabinets filled with empty bottles of Sauvignon Blanc wine—something I had seen of Shepard before, from the Citadel.

Shepard took my linen jacket off for me, setting it over the arm of the couch nearby.

Pressing me against the welcoming warmth of this wall, Shepard stood here with me.

The way she took me in with her eyes, I saw all of my answers there. She didn't need to say it. _I wanted her to._ But, right now, I could stroke her hair chilled by the mists of the rain and thawed back again by the heating in here. I could stare right back at her, at the way this dulled lighting paled her complexion to a storm cloud gray. And I could wonder about this place, this rooftop perch that clearly belonged to her, sensing and feeling the meaning here, as much as I felt her body pressed over mine.

Shyness limiting her one last time, Shepard angled her face next to mine.

"Ash," she whispered over my skin. "Do you still trust me?"

Shaking with anticipation anyway, I told her, _"Yes…"_

Shepard held my anticipation, holding me firm around my waist, supportive. "Then we'll keep things… _normal_ for tonight," she guided. So normal, so divine, she settle her lips over my jaw. "And next time, too." Pressing into me, making me fold into her, she controlled me in such a soft, loving way, effortless in her natural power. "After that, I'll see how you feel." Inching her presses closer to the corner of my mouth, she had me—she had me. "For now, though…I want to know you. Try to relax."

As dry as we were underneath this structure, I felt myself about to flood out of my leather jeans.

Especially once Shepard opened my mouth with hers, resonant with my every breath.

Breathing and breathing—it all became so much harder, _trying_ to relax, _trying_ to exist with her. Like she kept pulling me from this plane I was used to standing on, Shepard defined my lips with hers. Losing my spirit in hers, losing my soul in hers, I breathed at nothing. I breathed her in. I breathed at and in a place I never knew I had, near-panicking in this space; overwhelmed by the vastness she gave me, putting me up on this pedestal with her touch, her tongue pushing into mine, and her taste of sweet white wine.

Overwhelming me, still, this all started to shift in these unknowns.

Prickling at my core with pain, I couldn't stand it, I couldn't bear it.

I raked my nails down Shepard's shoulder, over to her chest, needing to cling to her by the skin of my fingertips, hanging here over this impossible drop.

So much, it was all so much—too much more once she moved her left hand between me, waiting.

Gasping, I gripped Shepard around her back, her leather here, the length of her hair here.

"Ashley," she soothed, somehow reaching me through my panic. "It's all right. It's just me. I'm not gonna hurt you." I wasn't afraid of that; I wasn't afraid of _that._ "What's the matter, then?"

Trying to breathe again, trying to breathe—"I'm…overstimulated. _Overwhelmed."_

Shepard slipped her hand farther between me, right against me—skilled, calculating.

Spreading myself open for her anyway, automatic, I gripped her harder, barely able to stay on like this.

"Then give it to me," she requested. "Give me that feeling instead of holding it inside. Share it with me."

I had spent all these years _holding it inside,_ I almost couldn't trust myself to do what she said.

I'd already fallen into so much, alone, without her, only able to imagine what this would've been like.

When I thought about it like that, I couldn't blame her for being distant with me these past few days.

Shepard pulled me right back into her, back into the moment—back into this impossible stimulation when she opened me. Not my zipper. Not my belt. Heat, so precise from her omni-tool: she burned a slit through my clothes, practically burning the money she had spent on my clothes, all without burning me, exposing me to her. This easier access alone was enough to make me breathe out of control again, getting me going so damn much. Only some of my logic pushed through, wondering, worrying—

"I'll fix it later," promised Shepard. "Because if I take your clothes off tonight…we'll never make it to the next mission." Only her fingertips, two soft tips testing me, her touch slicking against me like lightning—I already wanted to fucking scream—"I'm better at _doing_ than _talking._ Let me show you just how much."

Slipping through my grip around her, Shepard lowered herself in front of me, down on one knee.

Soaking more than the ground wetting her leather, her boots, she found that in me, breathing there.

In her quickness, Shepard hiked me up higher against this wall. Impossible strength of hers: she hooked her arm behind my leg, raising me up over her shoulder. She did the same with my other leg, leveraging me here with the weight of my boots hanging behind her, against her back, the black of her sweater; and she grinned against me all the while, listening to the way she drove me crazy from _this_ alone.

Clawing her arms around my thighs, clawing her hands into me to keep me clamped open—

Angling up and into me, Shepard gave me her whole mouth, smirking into me the second I screamed.

So maddening, Shepard pressed herself all the way up and into me—that pressure, of her panting against me while I dripped, and drifted, and drenched down into her mouth: like she could've lifted my body more with her head alone, from how strong she was, how tireless she was. And her ego, her fucking ego kept her going, kept her tongue hard against me, persisting, and flicking thick. Relentless, she found me almost right away—listening to me, loudest, and feeling me, quavering hardest, she stuck to that one spot, stimulating, stimulating, stimulating, over and over with the same determination I knew of her, the same concentration, all of it.

 _Too overwhelmed—_ I couldn't say a word.

 _Too overstimulated—_ I couldn't remember what words were, what language even was, aside from this:

Just to hold onto her, just to hold on, I gripped her head. Pulling her into me any harder or higher was impossible—Shepard was all the way on me, so close that she could've fucked me with her tongue, but she chose not to. She kept at this one spot, tongue flattened and as strong and as thick as I needed. She stayed right there, right there, spiraling me out of control the harder she went by the minute.

I felt all of me pouring down her mouth, over her skin, down her neck. I felt the way Shepard couldn't breathe—and she didn't care, she didn't care, inhaling what she could of me right through her lips anyway, consuming me for life.

I tried to remember: I gave her my stimulation, sharing it with her. As broken as my breaths were, I let her hear all of me, unfiltered—so much louder than those hundreds of nights I'd spent getting off to her, alone, and needing to hide it. Unhinged, as much as she inspired me, setting me off so hard, _so close._

Finding my words again: "Shepard, I can't— _fuck,_ it's too much!"

She wouldn't stop.

She wouldn't stop, that cocky shape of her lips widening against this soak of me for her, going harder.

Digging my nails into her scalp, I couldn't breathe as I breathed, couldn't breathe as I breathed: "It's too soon, Shepard— _I know_ you're trying to make me come right away—"

Making a point, Shepard took everything to the extreme.

Impossible, she overwhelmed me so much more, way harder, past even her own limitations.

Lifting me a bit higher against this wall, she pushed my whole body up, leveraging her head underneath me at a sharper angle. She gave it to me stronger, so much stronger, like her life depended on it—needing to please me this badly that she would break her own back to bend over for me. Like she knew I couldn't live without this, like I couldn't thrive without her exclusive focus on me like this, giving me this taste of who she was while she tasted all of me.

This taste, of blood in my throat from how loud I was, completely unrestrained: I wished she knew.

And I had to tell her, _now_ —"God, you're gonna kill me… I can't live without you, Shepard. I need you, I need you—"

Pleased herself, she moaned against me, her voice drilling right through me.

That one thing, that one thing from her, this single slice of validation from her sent me over the edge.

Soaring in place on this perch over her shoulders, her clenched shoulders, I fell out of place…out of time, my throat rippling with this endlessness of her name, louder than the rainstorm echoing around us.

Flying here on this new plane of her, I remembered all those times…out in the field…when Shepard would tell me to do something, and I would do it… That shape of the situation, since day one under her command: how she would observe me…and judge—how she would watch…and make sure I had done what she ordered, exactly as she had ordered me to do it. And when she would give me a bit of praise—or when she would say nothing, since no news was good news—this was the same…just… _different._

I had no idea how long I'd spent here, so high in my head.

The black-gold of this sky out there looked so beautiful…

Shepard stayed in place for me the whole time.

Still kneeling there, still holding me up, she had only moved her head back and down. Staring down, down at the rain pooling through here, Shepard breathed, still catching her breath a little. Eyes unfocused, she seemed kind of dazed herself, like she couldn't believe what she'd managed to do to me.

Finding enough of my awareness, I finally relaxed my grip over her head, her scalp.

Untangling from her hair, my hands started shaking once I saw the slight red dripping from my nails.

" _Shit,_ I'm sorry," I breathed out, hoarse. "I… I didn't mean to hurt you, Shepard. I'm really sorry…"

Not minding at all, Shepard took one of my hands in hers—as best as she could, with her arms still circled around my thighs. Gentle, she kissed the blood trailing from my fingertips. And then she did the same with my other hand, just as soft, just as sweet. Her mouth and her face were already dry, though, so she must have wiped me off with the leather over my legs while I'd been too high to notice.

"Don't worry about it, babe," she told me, peaceable.

I almost lost my breath again, just from hearing her voice like this.

My throat was so sore—I barely recognized my own voice, how frayed it was at the ends. "I feel different… Like so much has changed all at once. You honestly reached at something in me—something I never knew existed before. I don't…know what else to say right now."

Shepard must have liked my voice this way, since she smiled up at me: "You don't have to say anything, Ash." Maneuvering me with her, she intended to keep this going. "Come with me. We're not done yet."

Picking me up with her, she brought me to that couch I saw earlier.

Setting me over the soft material, warmed by this heating, Shepard lay me down over my back. Kneeling between me, she reached back to take my boots off, setting them down on the ground nearby, so orderly. Then she placed her hands at either side of me, lowering her weight there, but not too far down. Not too close to me; not too far away from me. At just the right distance to hover over me, to stare down at me with space enough to look at me properly, to look me over like this.

Different, so different—staring back up at her, I felt like my whole presence had changed.

Changing, this change had pushed up a potential in me that I never knew I'd had.

Talking about going to the ends of the galaxy for her…I had only imagined it before, the idea of it all.

Now it felt like Shepard had sent me to those ends, like I existed here, to protect her from going too far out, and to prove to her that I was the only one capable of being here for her without breaking entirely.

Loving her with something bigger than love; believing in something with her stronger than trust:

Shepard shined a light on all of it when she smiled at me again.

I held her shoulders, her hidden strength there, easing her down to me, her full weight on top of me.

Still blanking out on what to _say,_ I kissed her the way I wanted it: as deep as I could reach through her, as deep as I needed her in me—even if it was only her actual touch for tonight, nails cut already. And while I had her mouth over mine again, tasting those remnants of me over her, all over her, so persistent, I persisted in needing her. And even while I held her around her back, softer this time in mindfulness, I lost myself to this time in her, in stasis in the real world. And even as I opened my legs for her, wider—not to accommodate her, but to beg her without words to take me now—I wasn't close enough to her, this space between us so wide and expansive.

Still running after Shepard without running, she chose to focus on her skill, on how _good she was_ with learning me, with knowing me, with pleasing me. Her right hand, she moved down between me, finding me as wet as I was before, or more; and she lingered here, knowing me again, knowing that I needed her to kiss me just in this way, in this way that I gave to her, but she kept this uneven.

Staying somewhere so far away in the sky, past those rain clouds, and reaching down to me, making me react like ventriloquism…

Right before, just before, her fingertips set against me, I stopped her with my only request: "Love me, Shepard." Inhaling me, exhaling closer to me this time, she hid away, settling her head beside mine. "If you're going to claim me like this…then give me the rest of what you won't say—what you won't let me understand about you yet." Slipping my hands underneath her sweater, her thin shirt below there, I felt this cage of her as sweating skin, prickling me in new spots of heat all over. "Give it to me—the right way, the only way." Swelling and collapsing in my hold, she lost control of her own involuntary function, volunteering her shyness to me. "Take me the way I want—or not at all. Please don't break my heart…"

Setting sun over my horizon, Shepard shuddered over me.

Her _actual_ weight over me this time, her _actual_ body over me, she kept what little space I could allow, melting her lips against my neck. Aligned at this ultraviolet edge on top of me, she disappeared inside of me. Two at a time and without thinking, she gave me the _only_ pain I wanted, the only way I wanted it.

Pushing up around her, pulling her in more. Accepting her, even in the way she reshaped me, shaping me as hers, only hers—I held this pain fully, holding her tighter without suffocating. Wanting this for so long, subconsciously saving myself for her even before we'd met: this stretching, opening, sense of breaking, I embraced it all, breathing with it, tattooing this feeling everywhere in me.

Inked as soaking more around her touch so limber inside of me, drilling in slow-motion with this steady thrusting from her—all the way in, taking her in with this endless sensitivity stroking me; all the way out, and needing her right back, tightening around her in this need, obsessive in the way I stuck to her, wrapped all the way around her as my legs did.

Shepard had me, right here.

She had me, she knew it—and she could hardly breathe, listening to me like this.

Because I loved the pain; because I loved her.

Because I loved her steady rhythm, so unintentional; because I loved her atmosphere, ethereal in the way she finally let herself exist with me, but still washed away in this novelty for her, chopped up as her breaths were on top of me.

Freeing one of my hands from her sweater, I reached up to her head.

Stroking at her hair, the thin silken threads of her joined as this cascade of colors—I moved enough of it out of the way from this side of her face closest to mine. She had been hiding there. She didn't stop, didn't stop, feeling me so much closer like this: the way I stared at her, at her burning face, her scalding hot neck, her blood heating more now that she had my lips over her ear, right against her.

Holding her head, pressing her ear closer to these sounds from me, I laced my words through: "Give me more… Please—I want more of you." Heating more against this kiss of me, her hearing warmed hotter than the artificial one around us. "Your ring finger, too. All three, all three at once…"

Twice only, Shepard eased herself out.

This bodily shift from her, I felt and tracked with my hand, my arm still over her skin, memorizing the way she moved. Thrice as I craved, Shepard eased herself back inside of me: joined as three points, she locked her fingertips together as a triangle in her skill, at first. She let that perfectionism fall away as she fell back into me, breathing out hotter against my neck, my shoulder.

Expecting more pain, I welcomed what little I did feel in comparison.

Lessened in some familiarity, softened by the way Shepard finally slipped her free arm beneath my waist to hold me, I fell away from what I expected.

Arching up into her, accommodating her again, and again, and again, Shepard gave me every reason to bend like this. Thicker than before, she angled into me, working her whole wrist, her arm and the bend of it for more leverage, because she knew better. Sparking me more this time, she finally let me hear her voice through her breaths, giving me these emotions all from the same place as her physical efforts, because she couldn't help it.

Adoring me, she stayed at this in a perfect tenderness, perfectly balanced, as perfectly unbalanced as we were together:

Molten expressions rising up through me, so sweet in agony, I had to tell her, "I swear, you're the only one…the only one who could ever get me like this." She let me hear her more, let me feel her deeper in me, and I smiled, shaping me more. "Nothing like me…nothing like me at all—I don't care, I don't care." She stayed at this pace, no matter how much I felt her need to rush, to please me more immediately; I wouldn't let her, because she knew I didn't want it, and that was enough. "Softly, Shepard… Softly, softly, just like this, just like this. Please don't stop. Please, _please_ don't stop…"

Overwhelmed now, she was so close to something herself, melding as a metaphor. "Ashley…"

"Don't," I begged. "Don't stop. Don't pull away from me… I know you're scared. _I know you are._ So, do what you told me—give it to me instead. Give all of it to me… Give it to me. Give me everything."

"Fucking hell—"

Too deep in me now, I trusted that she wouldn't leave.

Trusting her, just as deeply, I polarized this imbalance between us even more: as soft as I was never allowed to be with anyone else, as fragile as I was never allowed to be for anything else, I let her feel me like this. On purpose this time, and maybe only unconscious before, I loved that Shepard stopped thinking, right away, like a switch had gone off somewhere. Lifting her higher on this scale, she needed this apparent weakness from me as much as I hated showing it with anyone else, for anything else.

If she only budged in extremes, then I could give her that from now on.

Entranced by me, Shepard spoke almost as freely as she had when I couldn't understand her: "You have me—you have me, and I need you to need me, exactly like this. And I can't stand it, how painful it is…but I know you want this from me anyway. I can't—keep resisting you anymore. Barely… You're way too beautiful when you're like this."

She knew me, and I rewarded her; I rewarded her, and she rewarded me right back, angling herself into me so much more, so profound.

Stroking me as three, her hand spoke to me as the rest of her sounds did: so much closer with her words unspoken now, the truest signs of her barriers coming down, I heated up as nearly the same.

She heard me with my mentality, how my own psychology had broken into her; providing for me, my provider, Shepard gave me what I wanted, over and over again, pleasing me the way I would've wanted, the way I still wanted right here, right now. Clinging to her in her superiority over me, I locked my legs around her, my heart and my mind set alight by her all at once.

And then Shepard moved her head, moved just enough to look into my eyes with her simmering intensity, exactly the way I'd always _needed_ from her—

Unblinking, everything swelled in me all at once, rising higher with her over me like this; locked as my legs were, I trembled out of control underneath her anyway, held up by her hand so supportive beneath my back; pulled away by this loving strength in her eyes alighting me in size, expanding and expanding, blasting my perspective way beyond even this direct lock of my sight with hers. Unlocked, I found the unanswerable through the sunlight of her stare, raying me hotter and higher, weakening me, weakening me as weak as I sounded still without blinking, whining out against her breaths mixed with mine.

However long this lasted with her this long inside of me, I never looked away from her.

Not once.

I only broke away to fall back down to the couch beneath me, falling somewhere near to realism.

Not all the way, not all the way…this blurred spinning in my head kept on while Shepard looked at me, watching me breathe underneath her.

I wanted to tell her that I loved her.

I wanted to say it—so badly.

But I was afraid… Afraid that, after everything, she _still_ wouldn't say it back.

Making up for it, almost, I loved knowing that I had made the right choice. I loved that I finally _knew_ without a doubt that Shepard was worth everything that I had suffered before her. I loved this dependence I had found on her, like it had been waiting there for me to take it. And I loved that she was dependent enough on me depending on her like this—she needed me to need her, just like she'd said.

Only once she found enough recognition in my eyes did she lower her lips to mine, steadily pulling out, slow enough. As much as my lips stuck to hers, I had attached to her, everywhere—she grunted from the way I couldn't let her go, couldn't let her go, until she made me do it, knowing that we were on borrowed time here. Some of that momentary time, she returned to me when she used her omni-tool to fix my clothes, sealing me back up properly. Running out of time—

 _That_ reality came back to me way sooner than I would've wanted.

That time expired right on time.

Shepard's omni-tool went off with a priority alert.

She growled and cursed over the timing, over the interruption, but I wasn't surprised.

I lifted myself enough for her to free her omni-tool arm from beneath me. Her right hand dripping of me, Shepard wasn't quite lucid enough herself, using that same hand to check her email anyway. Or maybe she was, and she did it on purpose, the orange light beaming over her beauty, and that wetness.

I smiled over it regardless as I stared out to the rain nearby, draping my leg over her lap, glad to have these last moments with her.

"It's the damned Council," griped Shepard. "They need me in the comm room on the ship for an immediate briefing on our next mission. Motherfuckers!"

"Mmm, duty calls, Skipper," I teased, still sounding a little high. "This was too perfect to last forever."

"Sorry," she expressed anyway. "I'm replying to them now… I'm letting them know that I need to get back to the _Normandy_ first. They're going to have to deal with the wait."

I remembered: "By the way, this might be kind of awkward… I'm betting that most of the team's pretty wasted by now. They're having a party back at the hotel."

Shepard groaned over the news, piling it on with the rest of what she needed to plan around.

Pulling up the chat room, I asked her, "Do you need me to call the party off? Let them know?"

"You can leave that to me," she said. "I need to get to the briefing before I can decide how to play this. For now, though…I should get you back to the hotel. Wait for me there until I call everyone back to the ship. They can keep going with the party until I find out more information."

I smiled over how laid-back she was. "Well that's nice of you, isn't it?"

Mid-response to the Council, Shepard paused.

She looked at me properly, sharing, "I'll have something more for you. Soon. It's not really what you're thinking, and maybe…maybe it's inappropriate, blurring the lines too much. But, considering our circumstances now, this can't be helped. I had to make a choice. I've already made up my mind."

"Whatever it is, I'm looking forward to it. I trust your judgment, Skipper. Always have, always will."

This look she gave me—she trusted me, too, so very related to this decision she had made about me.

* * *

Back at the hotel, all the way back in reality, I kept on smiling, smiling over the night, smiling over my new knight, and smiling over how her sun had replaced my sight even here at night.

I smiled the most over how Shepard had given me a better kiss this time, even though we both knew we'd see each other again soon.

Different circumstances.

Needing to switch gears once the party was over, once this game was over.

New, different music blasting through the common room, the team had definitely reached their peak with this party of theirs. Another drinking game going over by the TV, Wrex had outlasted Joker this time. He kept going anyway while Tali and Garrus cheered him on. But it looked to me like Joker was just fine, though—he probably hadn't wanted to drink too much in case he needed to pilot the ship again soon. Good foresight.

I figured I'd go join them soon enough… _after_ I took a shower.

I still had this obvious smell on me.

Shepard had managed to get us back to her car while avoiding the rain somehow.

I wasn't wet—from the storm outside—but I knew better.

Walking down the darkened hallway to my room, I smiled to myself over the whole thing anyway, feeling my heart swell from the memories Shepard had given me.

I definitely needed to write down my thoughts, my feelings, to have something else to remember…

_Remembering._

I remembered…

Finding _my favorite person_ in the hallway, I fucking remembered that conversation we'd had at the club.

Liara stopped in front of me.

Inches away, I knew she could _smell me._

And she had the nerve to look at me like she didn't care, like she already knew somehow.

Such a damned know-it-all…

"Ashley, you're in my way," she told me, so full of herself. "Do you mind moving?"

"Of course I mind," I sneered back. "Why don't _you_ walk around? There's plenty of room."

Liara rolled her eyes. "Hardly," she countered. "If you insist on making things difficult, then we will get nowhere. I only wish to return to the others in the common room. And _you_ could do with a shower. We both have better things to do right now. So will you please stop this and move out of my way?"

"Stop this? _Stop what?_ I'm not doing anything to you, Liara. You're always the one messing around with me, sticking your nose where it doesn't belong. You seem to know exactly _why_ I need a shower, don't you? Were you spying on me again through her head? Is that it?"

"This is common sense," insisted Liara. "The two of you are an item. You spent the night together. And now you have returned here, smelling like sex. There was no need for me to _spy_ at all."

"I don't fucking buy it," I shot back.

"That is unfortunate. However, it does not matter what you think. I have had enough of this conversation with you, Ashley. You will move, _now,_ otherwise—"

"—otherwise _what?_ You'll _make me_ move? That's rich, coming from you. All you care about is controlling every little thing, everyone around you! The first _real_ intimate moment of my life, and _you_ were there, spying on me! You destroyed me not long before that, and you had the nerve to not give a damn, acting like I was just some stupid kid, some— _trash._ Is that how you see me, Liara? Is that it?"

When Liara didn't say anything, _looking at me_ like I was so far beneath her, I had my answer.

Not too far behind her, I saw that the door to her and Tali's room was still open.

Pissed off beyond reason, I pushed Liara backward, pushing her back, back into her room. Walking inside with her, I made sure that the door closed and locked behind me. The two beds in here, separate, and this mini-suite they had: she and Tali could have practically lived here together, best buddies as they were, no doubt talking shit about me, like I didn't matter at all.

And now I had Liara's back against a wall again.

This reflection from the city through the rainy windows next to us: it brimmed through the blue of her eyes again, so defiant this time. Defiant, because I still had my hand on her shoulder, halfway between letting her go and gripping her flesh through her clothes, just to see how it would feel.

I had to win this time instead of walking away.

"Why have you done this?" hissed Liara. "Why do you continue provoking me, time and time again?"

"I'm not provoking you at all," I fought back. "If you think _this_ is provoking, then you have another thing coming. We're just here having a friendly conversation. A friendly conversation about how we're _supposed to be_ teammates, but you act like I'm some little kid compared to you. You talk down to me all the fucking time, and you think I'm gonna keep putting up with it? No way! This ends here."

"You receive the treatment that you earn from me, Ashley."

"I didn't _earn_ anything! I never asked for your bullshit in the first place! _You_ started this crap, not me!"

Liara rolled her eyes again. "And you are a poor liar as well," she claimed. "You insist on receiving equal treatment from me, and yet your methods are clearly childish and unhinged. Why would I give you the treatment you so desperately crave if you cannot be civilized with me in the first place?"

"You stuck-up, motherfucking—"

"—and you continue to prove my point. _Time and time again,_ this is all you can do. This is all you know. I refuse to treat you with any respect if you won't do the same for me."

"Why can't you set the drama aside, then? If you're so damn _civilized,_ why not be the better person, then? If I'm telling you to drop this, why won't you just do it—for the team, for the mission?"

Liara said this like it was no big deal, like it was somehow obvious: "Have you perhaps considered that you don't deserve to be anyone's equal? I believe you enjoy it when things are unbalanced. Otherwise, what would there be for you to work for, to strive toward? You have no ambitions outside of your mindless attempts to be _seen_ by others. Once again, you receive what you earn. I won't apologize for that."

Building, bursting—I was about to explode, to tear her apart, ripping that blue skin of hers to shreds.

Controlling myself, controlling myself—"What the _hell_ did you just say?"

"You heard me, Ashley," replied Liara, so fucking civil. "The way you continue to corner me, pushing my buttons and picking fights, you are the very embodiment of the human stereotype. You are nothing but a hotheaded, reckless bully, interested only in your own self-gain. This is not a matter of merely setting our issues aside, or finding unity with one another for the sake of the mission. You wish to win this game that you have conjured up in your head. There is no victory to be had if you are the only one playing."

"You're standing here, aren't you?" I challenged. "You're arguing back at me instead of leaving! If you think I'm such a bully, walk away. Walk the fuck away, right now!"

Liara looked down at my hand gripping her shirt. "You have made that difficult for me."

"You made my life a living hell once. If you can dish it out, then I'm sure you can take it, too."

Liara rolled her fucking eyes again. "And you continue to dwell on the past," she said, still so damn calm. "What happened was inevitable—the others were bound to gossip. I gave them my permission to do so at an uncomfortable time for you—"

"—yeah, on purpose! You wanted to break me! Congratulations, you did! You won that round! But now you're over here calling me a bully, acting like I don't have a right to hate you for what you did, for how you keep treating me? Even if you won't stop turning your nose up at me, you could at least apologize!"

"I haven't done a thing to you aside from that one, meaningless act. It was quite frivolous in the grand scheme of things. I have already said that I refuse to apologize—that includes this."

"Then I refuse to back down!"

Liara finally sneered, "I encourage you to continue as you are, then. Continue provoking me. Continue to self-sabotage and say these things you cannot take back. Keep pushing me and see where it gets you."

"What the fuck are _you_ gonna do to me, huh?" I mocked. "Break me with your biotics? You know the team wouldn't stand for that. Unless you're some master criminal, there's _no way_ you could hurt me and get away with it. If something happened to me, everyone would know it was your fault! All you can do is stand here and take it. So unless you drop this and say you're sorry, you don't have a way out!"

Realizing that I was right, Liara went quiet.

She just stood there, scowling at me.

"Exactly," I taunted, getting in her face, _more._ "That's what I thought. It's no surprise you don't have anything else to say now. You can't handle the idea that you could be wrong. That you _don't_ know everything. You don't know the first thing about me, either." Smirking at the way she still couldn't say anything, I remembered, even more: "Oh, I get it now. This holier-than-thou act, it's all a cover-up, isn't it? For those _issues_ of yours you mentioned in the chat? Yeah, your Mom had passed away, and that was a good excuse to give the others for why you had to take a step back. That wasn't the whole truth."

Breathing harder against my face, Liara had nothing to say to that, either.

I laughed in her face, against that stupid mask of hers.

"No wonder, Liara. It's no fucking wonder you love putting me down. You hate yourself, so _of course_ you have to kick me to feel better. You have Mommy issues, just like I do. Clingy and needy with _Daddy_ —I can relate. Trust me, I _seriously_ can. This is how I know I'm right. I know you better than you think I do."

That scowl of hers deepened, deeper than the Pacific nearby.

But I wasn't about to pacify her, to let her get away with this.

Tightening my grip over her shirt, I pulled her up, even closer to me—"You're as twisted as I am, if not more. But you go around pretending like you're this perfect goddess, capable of doing no wrong. You're nothing but a hundred-year-old baby who can't stand on her own two feet—not unless you have the best dick in the galaxy propping you up. Better yet, unless you're on your knees in front of her, taking it from behind, you don't know _what_ to do with yourself, do you? So you're still playing this long game with her, waiting it out, waiting it out… I know that's what you're doing. You're not fooling me."

Liara could glare at me all she wanted.

I wasn't about to give up on this—

"Didn't I tell you to drop this shit?!" I raged, not giving a fuck that Liara flinched all of a sudden. "I told you, _stay away from her!_ I fucking told you to back down, and that I wasn't gonna _share her_ with you! Not her body, not her heart, and _not her mind,_ either! So if you're still floating around in her head with that stupid bond of yours, I'm telling you to stop it, right now! Stop this fucking game and give up!"

Liara flinched again and kept flinching with my raised voice.

She was so damn lucky that Shepard still cared about her—even _loved her—_

If she didn't have this figurative armor, I would have burned her down by now, burned it all down.

Pushing Liara instead, pushing her—"Oh, what is it now? You're lonely and you can't survive without her, is that it? This creepy little bond you have with Shepard is what's holding you together? You're pathetic! She's _not_ gonna save you! No one can!"

These tears welling up in her _baby blue_ eyes, streaming down her sweet little face, and the way she started shaking like a little kid, too scared to keep standing up for herself now…

I smirked over it even more, smelling blood and needing more of it.

I went in for the kill:

"Come on, Liara…you have to know by now. Don't you see the writing on the wall? The way Shepard left you at the drop of a dime? The way she already wanted me, before she even met you? It's so obvious…so damn obvious. As smart as you are, you should have seen this coming:

"You were just a number to her. A notch on her bedpost. She fucked you, used you like a little slut, and threw you away the second she was done with you. As soon as I came into the picture, you were gone. You were nothing…but a distraction for her. Distracting her— _from me._ Your bond with her _isn't_ real."

Liara stopped flinching, stopped shaking.

She kept crying, but it was colder, somehow…

This look in her eyes—like what I'd said had never occurred to her, like I actually could've been right…

Or, no…not like I could've been _right._

No way, there was no way—Liara and I both knew that I was dead wrong here. Dead. Fucking. Wrong.

She knew that her bond with Shepard was the real deal. She knew that she wasn't _just a number_ …and that, in reality, I resented what they had. I had resented it all this time, taking my anger out on Shepard by stirring up drama, and starting stupid arguments with her over the whole thing. Liara knew that I was only talking shit, because that was what I did: I self-sabotaged all the time, saying things I didn't mean.

I saw the truth here, the truth that I still dreaded to find from Shepard staring back at me someday:

Liara was sick of my shit.

She was sick of my audacity. She was sick of my nerve, my cluelessness, like a kid, to even _suggest_ that what she had with Shepard was just some…meaningless thing. Because to her, it meant the world, the universe—and it was very, very possible that that bond of theirs was the only reason why Liara held herself back with me now, and all this time leading up until now. Because she knew how much Shepard cared about me. Because _she knew_ that Shepard was in love with me, and so she couldn't touch me.

All she could do was stay cold in this moment.

Colder, cold…so cold, so very cold.

Liara went stone cold on me.

The city outside, the lights outside, the water outside: none of it reflected in her eyes this time, too consumed by those tears streaming down her face. Like white to black, she had split like this, blocking the worst of her emotions away, and sealing them shut, out of her reach. Because if she _could have_ reached them by now, I knew: she would have reached across this short distance between us, and…

And _—_ I didn't think she had it in her, but…maybe taking my chances _wasn't_ the best idea right now…

 _And_ —we both knew that Shepard loved her, too…

Liara risked ruining their implicit relationship if she ever laid a hand on me.

I relaxed my grip over her shirt.

I took a step back.

Liara stayed there against the wall, glowering at me with deadened eyes, lightless.

I was about to say something, to drop this and apologize, until we heard a call through our radios:

" _Everyone, this is Shepard. Come in. Do you read me?"_

Liara gave no reaction, focusing her energies on _me,_ completely.

Yeah…she didn't believe me about Shepard at all. If anything, all I did was strengthen their bond…

Tali sounded sober enough as she replied, _"Yes, Shepard, we're here! Is everything all right?"_

" _Sorry for the short notice, but I need you all to get back to the ship. Shore leave is over. We have a high-priority mission to get to, directly from the Council. It's about Saren—we can't afford to wait. Pack it up, send your holo-closets back to your rooms, and get to the Normandy immediately for a briefing."_

" _No problem, Commander,"_ complied Garrus, a little smoother than usual, like he'd had a few drinks.

Joker wasn't so sure, _"Uh, there_ might _be a problem… Wrex here's been chugging these bottles of Ryncol all night long. We were kinda in the middle of a party here, Shepard. Just so you know."_

Wrex seemed…kind of okay: _"Ahh, I'll be fine… I'll be fine! Can just take some meds—from the bed bay—med bay… Sleep on the way there, in bed… I can hold my liquor y'know!"_

Shepard still needed to know, _"Wrex, are you lucid enough for the briefing? Can you pay attention?"_

" _Yeah, Shepard,"_ he replied. _"I'll be fine, like I said. I'll be good and listen… Briefing. Then go to bed…"_

" _Understood, then,"_ she accepted. _"Everyone meet me in the comm room once you're here."_

Garrus replied, _"Will do, Shepard. Just need to clean up in the common room, then we'll be on our way."_

" _Fine, but make it quick. Make sure Liara and Ashley get here, too, if they're busy. Shepard out."_

Once the call ended, I knew I had to do something—fast.

Liara hadn't changed her stare, her coldness at all. Those tears had lessened, but some of them still slipped down her face. All because she was sick of me, so fucking sick of me.

_She was so done._

"Liara, listen," I tried. "I'm sorry. I was way out line… I shouldn't have said the shit that I did. I have to face facts here, accept reality: it's obvious that Shepard loves you—"

Sharp crack of her palm against my face with strength way beyond her, Liara slapped the fuck out of me.

Face burning, _more_ on that side—I watched drops of blood shoot out to the dark, carpeted floor, straight from my lower lip. Busted open near the corner, I could only keep my hand over the cut.

Caught up in this panic now, of Tali walking in here and finding us like this, of _Shepard finding out,_ of possibly ruining the team over this, compromising the mission—

Needing to make this right, I tried again: "I guess I deserved that… Look, I get that you hate me. I'm a drama queen, I'm a little kid, I'm not your equal—I'm all of those things, _all of them,_ and I accept that. I accept your judgment. I'm only hoping that we can set this aside for the mission. There's no way we can work together out on the field like this. I'm willing to drop this if you are—"

"—get out of my room, Ashley!" shouted Liara, as sharp as her strike had been. "Stop TRYING to make up for your idiotic mistakes! There is _nothing_ you can say to me to make this right! _Absolutely nothing!_ You crossed the line with me! No matter how much _you apologize,_ you can NEVER take this back!"

Needing to fix this, _needing to fix this,_ even if it meant lying to her: "Liara, wait! Wait! I-I was drinking, okay?! I'm, I'm totally drunk—the stuff I drank tonight was way too strong, and I had way too much—"

Liara slapped me again, hard enough to stagger me to the side, away from her.

"Don't you DARE lie to me _again,_ you insolent little child!" she screamed, almost like a banshee… "Do what you are told this time! Get out of my room! Stay the hell away from me! You and I are done! I am finished with you! _Never speak to me again!_ Not a word, Ashley—not another _fucking_ word, or else—!"

"—Liara, please. _Please!"_ Hand clamped over my open lip, stopping the bleeding, I begged her, _begged her,_ "Can't we fix this!? I'll drop this stupid game! You win! _You win!_ I'm sorry, okay?! I'm _really_ sorry!"

That coldness, one last time.

That chill, sealing our fates.

That frozen ocean water, stopping these floodgates from her, from drowning me, from destroying me:

"Ashley…when you next say another word to me, it will be _game over._ I suggest you walk away quietly."

Something in her tone, her choice of words, so sinister, finally got through to me.

There was no ramming my head against this situation to make it better.

I couldn't do anything…

I couldn't do a thing…except listen to her, and do as she said.

Obeying her this time with these chills running down my spine, I walked away, watching my back.

I unlocked the door, finding my only relief in seeing that Tali wasn't here, and that the hall was empty.

I left to my room, making sure the door closed behind me.

And when I finally made it through my own door—temporary, so temporary—I had to stop for a minute. I stopped with my back against the surface, breathing so damn hard. Almost heaving for breath at this point, I felt like I'd narrowly avoided an accident—a terrible, terrible accident that was all my fault. The blood said enough, dripping down from the corner of my mouth. This was all I could do instead of crying.

I was still in way too much shock for my emotions to really hit me.

I only sobered a little once I heard Tali, Wrex, Garrus, and Joker chatting together as they walked down the hallway, on the way to their rooms.

Finding enough awareness, I scrambled to find some medi-gel through my omni-tool.

Applying just enough to my face, to my lower lip, the bleeding finally stopped. I managed to push myself to walk over to the bathroom, to look at my damned face, to make sure:

The burning in my face hadn't gone away completely. I knew my skin would be red for a while.

Liara's strength had left a scar down my lower lip to my skin, thick and transparent. If she hadn't slapped me twice in a row, the medi-gel probably would've covered the whole thing up all the way. But this was what I deserved for being such a major bitch. And for no reason. _Just to provoke her…_

Staring at myself in the mirror, I didn't recognize who I was anymore.

I had these expensive clothes on, but I was still a lowlife. A bully. Because I hated myself, deep down.

I knew why I had done what I did. I knew why I'd said those words, reacted this way. This situation with Liara kept bringing up serious trauma: PTSD from my teenage years. Parental issues, like I'd told her…

Nearly everything I'd said to her back there was just—projection.

Even that shit about her just being a number.

Now that Shepard had fucked me, taken my virginity, I ran the risk of being that to her instead.

All I could do was trust her. And I did trust her—completely. So much so that I wouldn't have even cared if Shepard _had_ used Liara as a distraction from me. So much so that I wouldn't have given a damn if she kept it a secret now, all to protect me from that truth. I was so crazy about her. I was so madly in love with her, it was unreal. _We were together now._ Nothing could ruin that for me. Not even this possibility.

But if Shepard found out about what I did, I honestly wasn't sure if she would forgive me.

If she knew this about me—that this wasn't even me at my worst, and that I had stopped short of burning that entire argument down to the ground—I didn't know _what_ she would think. Would she hate me? Would she still love me? Could she be in love with a violent hothead like me, when she cared so much about justice and fairness? Would she break up with me if she knew how dangerous I was?

Could I even love myself anymore, living with this person in my head?

An urgent knock sounded at my door, shaking me out of my thoughts.

On the other side, Tali called to me from the hall, "Ashley, are you in there? I'm not sure if your radio was on—Shepard called us back to the ship! We need to meet her there for our next briefing! We're taking the rapid transit together once everyone is ready to leave!"

Forcing myself to sound _normal_ again, I called back to her, "Okay, thanks! Be right there!"

"Good! See you soon!"

And now Liara had some _serious_ blackmail on me.

I had compromised myself, screwed myself big-time with my big mouth.

All she had to do was tell Tali what happened, and she could've taken my best friend away from me. She could have turned Tali, and Garrus, and Wrex, and Joker, _and Shepard_ away from me, all at the same time, shoving me back into that month I'd spent avoiding them on the ship over that _misunderstanding._

Self-preservation instincts kicking back in, I knew what I had to do.

I couldn't step aside. I couldn't break up with Shepard over this, because I was still so fucking selfish and needy and childish and pathetic. I had spent all this time saying that I would never let her go, and that I would never give up on her, on us. I couldn't go back on my word to her. I couldn't break my promises, since, maybe, there was a chance that she might forgive me if she ever found out somehow.

I _really_ needed to accept that Shepard and Liara loved each other, too…and that they always would, no matter what, no matter what happened with me. Next to their bond, I was pretty much expendable.

Because if I didn't accept this soon, well…I didn't even want to think about that.

* * *

Making my way back to the _Normandy_ with the others in my Alliance fatigues, I had a killer headache.

That buzz from the single drink I'd had at the club hadn't been enough to faze me: but I lied to Joker and the others during the rapid transit ride, telling them that I was still kind of buzzed anyway. It gave me the perfect excuse to stay quiet. It gave me an even better excuse to ignore Joker's invasive questions about where Shepard had taken me, and how good the sex felt. Apparently there was something about me that made it obvious now that I'd had the best sex of my entire life that night.

And he was right…but I was in no state to let myself think about that right now.

Tali did tell Joker to shove it with his damned questions, but still.

Liara sat farthest away from me, not saying a word.

Garrus and Wrex tried to prod her, once, asking what was wrong.

She just shook her head, signaling enough that she didn't want to talk right now.

They respected her privacy and let her be. Out of respect for _her,_ they all stayed quiet until we arrived.

Back on the ship, back to this routine—almost—Joker went to his seat at the helm, while the rest of us went ahead to the comm room. No one really said anything aside from the usual off-hand comments about getting back to it, back to the usual, all of that.

This same old, same old of the _Normandy_ should have comforted me.

Instead, walking with Tali to the command center, with Garrus, Wrex, and Liara behind us, I felt like I was back in a prison of my own making. I had to somehow pretend like everything was still okay. I had to go back to lying to save my own ass. I had to keep these terrible secrets if I wanted to protect everyone else, too. Because if this got out, then that would've fractured the team, killed our morale together.

Compromising myself, compromising the mission…

Day one of being Commander Shepard's girlfriend must have gone according to plan.

When we made it to the comm room, we found Shepard standing in the middle of the area, wearing her casual Alliance blues, waiting for us. Peaceful, patient, and so full of understanding right after shore leave: she didn't even get mad when Wrex kind of crashed as he sat down in his chair. While Wrex situated himself, and the others took their seats, Shepard smiled at me first. She caught me off-guard, since I'd assumed she would still keep things mostly distant and professional in situations like these.

And I _was_ happy to see her again, despite everything…so I smiled back at her.

Revitalized enough now, I could deal with sitting in my usual seat across from Liara, without much trouble.

Everyone else looked around, waiting.

Waiting…for Kaidan to get here.

Shepard knew that she needed to address this before anything else:

"First off, I appreciate you all getting back here on short notice. I'm sure you've spotted by now that Lieutenant Alenko isn't here. The good news is that he will be just fine. The bad news is that he won't be continuing on with us for the mission, at least for now. I unfortunately had to relieve him from duty."

Their shocked faces—except for Liara, since she already knew, somehow.

No one else had seen this coming, either.

Diplomatic, Shepard gave them the explanation she had settled on: "After our mission on Feros with the Thorian, Kaidan's headaches from his L2 implants became impossible for him to handle. Of course, he would put on a smile for the team. He didn't want to let us down. But after assessing his situation, I had him seek medical assistance at the main Alliance base here in San Diego. That's why we came here.

"I determined that Kaidan will be better suited retrofitting to L3 biotic implants. In order to do that, he'll need to go through a long, therapy-intensive process. I couldn't risk his terrible headaches straining him any longer. We all need to be at our very best to take Saren down—no exceptions. The lieutenant understood this, and accepted my decision. He's been transferred to Vancouver HQ for the procedure."

No one questioned her story, only partly true. They didn't need to know that, though.

Thinking about how much I missed Kaidan, I looked believable enough: like I didn't know the full story, either. I could blend in here as Tali, Garrus, and Wrex glanced around at everyone in the room, including me, taking in our reactions.

I admired how Shepard always knew just the right words to say, no matter the situation…unlike me.

I had to take a page out of her book—or better yet, rip it out, immediately.

I wasn't surprised that Tali was the one to ask, "But, Shepard—Kaidan _will_ be all right…won't he?"

"Yes, Tali, he will be," promised Shepard, confident in his prospects. "Once he's up and running again, Kaidan will be back with us. He'll continue on with the mission, whether that's before or after we deal with Saren. We still have the Reapers to worry about afterward. Until he returns, it will just be us."

And one last thing: "Kaidan also wanted to apologize to you all. For not saying goodbye. He felt that he had disappointed you by leaving—the shame was too much for him to bear. He hopes you'll forgive him."

Tali found her optimism: "Absolutely. I understand his reasons. I probably would have done the same…"

"Definitely," agreed Garrus. "Kaidan will be back on his feet in no time, I'm sure of it. No harm done."

Wrex gave a heavy nod. "Yeah… Alenko…will make it. Headaches…I can relate. I believe in him…"

Liara stayed quiet, thinking everything over, somber now.

I remembered Kaidan mentioning to me a while back that he and Liara weren't close at all. He was distant toward her more than anything. So naïve of me at the time: I had teased him, asking if he actually liked her. I'd conceded again that she _did_ have a really hot voice. Kaidan had insisted that he didn't see her that way, convincing me when he shared that there was another issue. He'd never gone in depth about what this issue was, only giving vague details about how it had to do with _me_ somehow.

I wondered now if Kaidan had always known about Liara's feelings for Shepard, too, way early on.

Because if he knew all along that I liked Shepard—way, way more than Liara had, before—then of course he would've wanted to take my side. He couldn't put himself in the middle…and so he chose me.

"Now, onto the next mission," continued Shepard. "When we arrived to Thessia last week at the start of shore leave, you may remember that the Council called me. They informed me about a top-secret operation out in the Attican Traverse that could prove to be significant. They only needed more time to confirm the details. When I called you back here, I had just finished my briefing with them.

"The Council currently has a Salarian Special Tasks Group gathering intelligence on Saren's whereabouts on the planet Virmire, in the Hoc System. They had initially sent this unit to investigate what Saren was up to out there. The STG group needs our assistance in dealing with a sensitive issue. Since the Council wasn't willing to divulge more details, we'll need to go meet up with these salarians ourselves. Whatever they need help with, our mission is to support them and get the job done. Any questions?"

Since no one had anything to ask, Shepard looked to each of us, making sure that we all understood.

Satisfied with everyone, she added, "As is highly likely with Saren by now, we should expect heavy geth resistance once we arrive. No doubt we'll be coming in hot for this mission, right from the start. We have to be alert and awake, but we also can't afford to put this off for too long. With that said, Wrex, are you _sure_ you'll be ready to go after you take those meds and get some rest? We'll need you for this."

"Yeah, I'll be good by then," reassured Wrex. "I'm feeling better already…sort of. I'll shake this off…"

"Good. I'll plot our course on the galaxy map once we're done here. I'm giving us six hours to reach Virmire. That should give everyone a safe amount of time to recharge and focus up. Once Joker makes the announcement that we're almost there, head down to the armory and gear up. We'll get in the Mako, touch down planetside, and then drive to the salarian camp. I want _everyone_ to eat a meal and rest up until we arrive. _No messing around_ —take your asses to bed, all of you. Am I clear?"

We all responded with our affirmative, respectful; glad that she cared this much about our well-being.

Instead of dismissing us, Shepard paused for a moment, considering something, as if for the final time.

Making up her mind, truly, she then said, "As you know, Lieutenant Alenko was my second-in-command during these past four months. Since he won't be back with us for a while, I had to make a decision about his replacement. Even though I prefer handling my duties as both captain and XO alone, I can't also be my own second. I would trust any of you with this position. But I could only pick one person."

Before I could even realize what was going on—the gravity of this moment—Tali, Wrex, and Garrus already looked to me, happy in their own ways, like they already _knew,_ like this was the obvious choice…

Liara seemed unsurprised, too, like she had actually known the details for sure, beforehand.

Shepard walked over here, standing in front of me. "Chief Williams," she stated.

I bolted to my feet, saluting her through my confusion. "Sir…?"

For some reason, Shepard lightened up by my reaction, still sounding professional as she told me, "Despite the optics of my decision, I've made up my mind: I'm appointing you as my second-in-command. You and I are the only Alliance soldiers left. That's not to diminish your value to me or the weight of my choice. You have demonstrated all of the skills and qualities I look for with this position. I trust you to take command of our team if I'm incapacitated or otherwise absent. Do you accept?"

With Kaidan gone, I didn't get the feeling at all that I was the 'last one picked' here…

Shepard was completely serious about this.

Even though this was _her_ asking me, I couldn't focus on that. I had such terrible flashbacks to Eden Prime, to the 212, to the unit I'd served with. Everyone except me, wiped out by the geth…until Shepard and Kaidan had found me just in time, pulling me into their mission instead. Sole survivor, and so many memories of the marines I'd fought alongside with…

I had practically abandoned everyone to save myself.

And I had ended up as the leader of my unit not long before they had all died under my command.

I needed Shepard to talk me through this first.

"Commander, I'm… I'm honored that you'd pick me. I'm just—I'm _shocked_ that you did. I mean, I'm only infantry… And I'm an NCO. How can I be second-in-command…to _you?"_

Shepard had of course prepared for my reaction, listing off: "Ashley, you took decisive lead of the mission back on Feros once you and the rest of the team determined that I was in trouble. No one asked you to take over—you assessed the situation, and immediately charged in with admirable aggression against that army of Thorian creepers. You guided everyone the whole way, making the most effective moment-to-moment decisions that eventually led to our success. Or am I remembering wrong?"

"No, Commander, you're right… But—that was just one mission. I was emotional at the time over having lost track of you, pushing it away with my aggression. I wasn't level-headed about _anything_ that day…"

"Regardless, your emotions, your aggression, and your _natural_ leadership skills saved the mission."

I felt like now wasn't the best time to point out that _she_ was the one who took down that Thorian, which was way more important than anything I could've done.

Shepard knew anyway, and listed again: "Chief, back on Noveria, I told you to take point, and then you did what needed to be done. Your tactical orders to Tali helped provide cover for Liara while she fought Benezia head-on. You gunned down an entire platoon of asari commandos on your own in that lab. Your presence on the ground, and, once again, your leadership more than made up for me sniping from inside the vents at the time. You didn't need my help: I trusted you to hold the line, giving me ample freedom to scan the field and lead us to a mission success. Unless I'm misremembering this, too?"

She really wasn't leaving me with a way out of this one… "Everything you said…is accurate, Sir."

"Ashley," said Shepard, sterner this time. "Everyone in the Alliance held you back—including you, and your own feelings from this military blacklisting you and your family. With your technical scores and qualifications, you should have been serving with the fleet. You should have gotten accepted into a military academy. You should have been a commissioned officer by now. You have to know that those bigots were only gaslighting you. You know that you're more than good enough for me. And you're an excellent soldier. I only want the best."

Trying not to get emotional over this, I gave her my first and final _reason:_ "Commander, the 212…"

"You're a survivor, Ash. Always were. In my eyes, you're a phoenix rising from the ashes."

Sensitive to her judgment, her metaphor, I replied, "I hope you're right."

Shepard knew me better than I did right now.

So she asked me again, "Ashley, will you accept? Can I count on you as my second-in-command?"

I couldn't let her down. I couldn't let the team down.

I couldn't let myself down by letting my doubts, fears, and insecurities get in the way here.

Plus, if I was going to do this, then I really needed to grow the fuck up. There was no way I could guide the others in case of another emergency—if we lost Shepard again somehow—if I was too caught up with my stupid drama, or stuck chasing after phantoms in my own head. There was no way they would trust me if I blew up and did something worse than what I'd fallen into earlier. This was more important.

I had to save this immaturity of mine for when it was safe. For when I trusted Shepard to take care of that for me, alone, in private. Because I knew this would come up again—it wasn't just going to go away.

I needed her nurturing guidance, and that release with her so much more now.

Shepard needed me to be at my very best, just like I did, for my own personal growth.

I saluted her again. "Yes, Sir, I accept. Thank you, Commander. It's an honor. I swear, I'll give you my all."

Knowing that this all sounded familiar, Shepard's eyes lit up as she returned my salute…so proud of me.


	15. Survivor

" _To Fire and Sword" (Holminster Switch) from Final Fantasy XIV: Shadowbringers_

 **XV.** Survivor

_(Shepard)_

Revving of the Mako's engines, and we were on our way.

Racing down the _Normandy's_ gangway and out to the shallow sea water over our path, we drove onto Virmire's surface, heading to the salarian camp. Winding through these paths in between lush rock formations, I sat in this seat near the back of the rover, remembering the sights from outside: that humid, tropical terrain, with the sea crashing against the rocks along the shores. Sounds of thunder crashing; near-violet rain clouds darkening the early morning sky; sparks of purple lightning flashing across those clouds, the sky itself.

We needed to disable the anti-aircraft guns not too far away—they were in the way of Joker getting the ship safely over to the camp.

Needing to prove himself for the mission, Wrex had volunteered to drive the Mako for us in place of Kaidan, who used to always drive us before. So far, Wrex kept us on track, dodging the hostile geth units in our way as he navigated these watery paths. Liara stood nearest to him, holding onto the overhead railing, supervising his sobriety. Adjacent to me, Tali and Garrus sat together on the seat facing the doors, quiet and focused between the occasional rattle and shaking of the truck along the road.

Ashley sat next to me, close by. Upon Wrex's suggestion, I had recently upgraded her heavy armor to the colossus set: dull sheen of an all-black plating with bold, red undertones crossing through for better maneuverability. Top-of-the-line damage protection and shield ratings, I trusted that she could handle just about anything this mission threw at her.

And I would need her to, considering my new tactical plans with Ashley as my second-in-command.

I did worry about her on a personal level: sitting here with me, she was so quiet, and not like Garrus and Tali nearby. Ashley seemed to have a lot on her mind, staring down at my combat boots and the pants of my stealth suit. I decided to wait until she looked at me directly before asking about this.

In the meantime, Liara turned her head, finding me here.

I'd also sensed a real gravity pulling her down, ever since she and the others returned after shore leave.

Making eye contact through that gravity, I smiled at Liara anyway, loving and caring for her so.

To my relief, she smiled back—only a little, yet still sincere, and brimming with her own love for me.

And so much more relief: that we were still close like this, no matter what.

Liara supported me on this path, still promising not to give up on me… Though at this point, _giving up on me_ wasn't about fighting to have me to herself. Not that. Not directly. She already knew what we had—this unspoken relationship, implicit. This protection she provided was what kept me open, kept me genuine and present with my emotions. Without her, I would've gone back to my old habits, or worse.

I knew that Ashley knew this; and I also knew that it had nothing to do with her troubles today.

She had made it clear that she needed me to be faithful to her, and yet this hadn't crossed that line.

Of course I still wanted Liara, sexually—all the time we had spent in San Diego had tempted me so much. But I had made the decision to not go there with her. Not unless something changed. Because there was no way I could only have her once and get it out of my system. We were way past that.

I did appreciate that Ashley chose not to hold this against me after arguing so much about it before.

I supposed it was our unexpressed compromise over her changing the rules for this game. She let me have this other mental, emotional attachment so long as it didn't get in the way of how I felt about her. I was confident that it wouldn't, and that it never would. She trusted me; she trusted my confidence.

Still, Ashley's lack of confidence today kept me anxious for her, aching for her.

For as long as I had been staring at her without realizing it, she finally looked back at me.

I had noticed before during the mission briefing that the side of Ashley's face was slightly red. As much of an airhead as she was at times, I'd assumed that she had merely hit herself with something while rushing to get back to the ship last night. But now, in this lighting here in the Mako, I somehow noticed something else: her lower lip was scarred, a little down to her skin. Like she had busted her lip open somehow, and then applied medi-gel to the wound—this thick, transparent scar remained.

I held her chin, tilting Ashley's head from side to side as I surveyed her in concern.

She wouldn't meet my eyes as I did this.

"What happened here?" I asked, soft enough to let the juddering sounds of the Mako cover our conversation from the others. "Did you hurt yourself?"

Ashley nodded, downcast. "I'll be fine… Don't worry about it."

"Okay, then," I accepted, checking the rest of her face now. "But you have to know that I care, Ash. I'm not going to stop worrying about you, either. Why do you seem so down today?" Everything else about her looked fine, down to the exact locations of each small, spaced out spots of dark brown over her skin that I'd memorized in my obsessions with her. "Did you not get enough sleep last night? Is that it?"

"After I ate, I was out like a light," whispered Ashley, blushing over the reason: "You _know_ why…"

Heartwarming, I remembered how she could've fallen asleep right afterward with me, on the roof of the 94, in my spot, my perch away from the rest of the world. I had given her most of myself, holding back that last of me. I regretted how I had let my fears get in the way…but there was nothing I could do now.

If she wasn't physically hurt, if she wasn't tired, and if she wasn't upset with me, then what was wrong?

All of a sudden, the Mako took a sharp turn—way too sharp.

Cursing and sputtering in the driver's seat, Wrex lost control of the vehicle—

Right away, I cradled Ashley's head and held her tight, shielding her body with my own—bracing for impact:

Swerving around to keep dodging those geth, Wrex swerved _too much,_ flipping us all over. This fucking rover crashed on its side, thrashing us around in here—gripping each other now, belated, Tali and Garrus' backs rammed against their seats, their heads nearly snapping from their necks even from the short whiplash; Liara used her biotics to float herself through the madness; Wrex did the same with his powers, only delayed from how hungover he was, _still!_

Fighting these physics, I used my own augmentations to protect Ashley while she held onto me.

Our shields just barely kept us safe from the initial crash, before I remembered my landing system.

_Piece of shit!_

Leaning over on the side of the watery road, we all had to crawl up through the door and outside.

Out here in this humid breeze, we all gathered near the Mako beneath those dark violet rain clouds. Arms folded, I glared down at this shimmering water just beneath my boots, finding Ashley's reflection there as she sighed in irritation. Garrus and Tali both seemed to want to say something, frustrated, but they chose not to, seeing as we were all unharmed. Liara stood farthest away from the group, seething.

None of us said a word to Wrex, who suffered our silence in silence, already knowing what to do.

By himself, Wrex used his brute strength to flip the truck back on its wheels properly, steel creaking in noise over the sounds of the nearby sea crashing against the wet, glistening rocks in this weather.

Once the Mako was situated again, we all got back inside, taking our same seats.

Without me needing to ask, Liara drove this time.

Wrex stood next to her, holding the overhead railing; hanging his head in shame.

We continued on to the AA guns in our way of the salarian camp.

During the remainder of this drive, I seriously considered tossing Wrex back onto the ship once we made it to the camp with the _Normandy._ He was lucky he was so damn strong. We would likely need him on this mission, so I couldn't tell him to fuck off, as much as I wanted to.

Reaching the first gated compound with the guns, Liara stopped the Mako just nearby. The rover's shields held up against the onslaught of geth outside—we had to take them out and push forward to get upstairs above the gate, disable the AA guns, and get the gate open so we could continue driving ahead.

 _Restarting_ in earnest, stronger this time—the mission was on again:

"Ashley, head out first and draw their fire!" I ordered. "We'll cover you!"

"Aye, aye, Commander!" she complied, readying her assault rifle.

Bursting out from the Mako, Ashley's shields shrugged off the pulsing fire from the geth surrounding us. She opened fire, firing back with her full concentration, earlier worries forgotten. Before I could even give my next order, she had already taken out a good number of the geth in our way. Collapsing as piles of metal to the shallow waters, their headlights dimmed and their mechanical stutter-sounds fell silent, one after another, one after the other.

I gestured anyway for the rest of the team to head out, to bolster Ashley's firing power.

Everyone went one at a time, helping her take down the geth out here near the gates in our way. More than anyone else, I noticed Liara's increased power and aggression today: firing off singularity fields and exploding them back to back on her own. I couldn't help noticing just how much she had improved over these months since we first recruited her. And I sensed she still had the potential for even greater things.

By the time I made it out the truck myself, all the geth platforms down here were done with.

"All right, people, let's head upstairs!" I directed. "Ashley, you take point! Everyone push through the last of these geth in our way! We need to get those AA guns down and open this gate!"

"I'm on it!" answered Ashley, heading up first.

Up the stairs at the top of this roofed compound, I stayed behind at first. While Tali, Wrex, Liara, and Garrus supported Ashley with their gunfire, and their tech and biotic powers, tearing through these other geth, I glanced around. The geth had charged out here to deal with us all at once. Behind them, I could see the glowing blue control panels for the gun. I figured the gate controls had to be in there, too.

Cloaking to invisibility, I moved in silence past the team, past these gigantic geth destroyers charging past me, so mindless.

Reaching the unguarded room, I found the AA controls next to a generator. Still invisible—just in case—I deactivated the overhead guns. Nearby, I found those gate controls, too, and took care of them. Slight shaking from the compound, I felt the heavy weight of the gates rise up and out of our way.

Joker confirmed via radio, _"Good work, shore party—looks like the grid is down. Heading over to the salarian camp now."_

I responded, "Copy that, Joker."

" _Oh,"_ said Garrus, realizing now what I'd done. _"There must be a ghost in here, doing our work for us…"_

Tali humored him, _"Yes, the_ only _friendly_ _ghost who would be so kind to do this—I think it's nearby."_

Ashley also caught on late: _"No wonder… I should've guessed. Well, we're ready to move, Commander."_

I returned to the team, finding them surrounded by the geth platforms crumpled there on the ground.

Uncloaking, I nodded to everyone, leading the way back downstairs to the Mako.

Back in the rover, Liara drove again, getting us to the next gate in our way.

We repeated the same: taking out the geth in the immediate area, before heading upstairs.

While the group took down the geth around us, I cloaked once more, using the gate controls to move this last obstacle in our path.

As we drove through the final stretch, Joker contacted us again: _"Uh, Commander, I made it to the camp, but it looks like the ship's grounded. The salarian captain can explain more when you get here."_

Not liking the sound of that, I replied, "Noted. I'll find out what's going on."

Finally at the beachside camp, we parked the Mako right at the entrance.

Overhead clouds of violet darkened to black, this gray lens around us gloomed the mood here at camp. Spread-out tents wide open to this heated, humid air, I saw a decent number of salarians pacing around the pearl white shore, fully-armored. And only a _decent_ number—these were Salarian Special Tasks Group members, some of the most skilled infiltrators in the galaxy, running thin on numbers. I had followed their work closely during my own training, like their counterterrorism and espionage efforts, admiring how effective they were at 'quietly' dealing with all sorts of problems, no matter the cost.

Seeing just how thin their ranks were with my own eyes, it was no wonder the Council had sent us to support them.

My team found their own places across the camp—in the various tents, outside on the sands, or closer to the vibrant blue of the sea water brushing along the shore:

Tali and Ashley chatted together not too far from the closest tent. Garrus took in the sights as he stood along the beach, staring out to the grassy rock formations across the way, and the lightning flashing through the rain clouds. Liara wandered farthest away, again, retreating inside the tent way over there. Wrex was somewhere close by to me, as if expecting me to scold him for his terrible driving earlier.

There was no point, really. We had all made it here in one piece.

Finding what looked like the salarian captain, I approached him.

"Commander Shepard?" he inquired. "I'm Captain Kirrahe. Third Infiltration Regiment, STG. It's an honor to meet you at last. Your infiltration tactics and accomplishments on Torfan are legend among us. Truly, your Spectre status is well-deserved."

"Captain," I obliged, shaking his hand. "Thanks for the kind words. What's the situation here?"

"More immediate: while we appreciate having your ship here, every single AA gun has now been alerted to our presence. We're in the middle of a hotzone. However, we appear to be fine for the time being, so I cannot complain too much. We are still coming up with a plan of action. Are you our reinforcements?"

"We are," I answered. "I understand that you asked the Council for a fleet. They weren't able to provide you with those resources, considering the sensitive nature of the mission. I'm the only Spectre on Saren's trail; they sent me here with my team to support you. This'll have to be enough."

Kirrahe sighed. "I see," he replied. "Well, Commander, as you said, this will indeed have to be enough. I trust your skills, as well as your team by association. And we don't have time to wait much longer. I'm losing men by the minute, whether by death or by enemy capture. This has to end— _quickly_ —otherwise our efforts here will have all been for nothing."

"Agreed. What've you discovered so far?"

"We have found Saren's base of operations," said Kirrahe. "A research facility. But it is crawling with geth and very well-fortified. Saren is breeding an army of krogan. Those experiments have gotten loose past here, and they're tearing my men apart. We haven't been able to get anywhere near the facility."

Wrex pushed his way over to us, asking, "An army of krogan? _Breeding?_ How's that possible?"

"Saren has apparently found a cure for the genophage. Such an army at his side has proven to be quite dangerous. We need to put a stop to this—we must destroy this base along with all of its secrets."

"Why the hell would you do that?! Those secrets are valuable to the krogan! If there's a cure for the genophage here, then my people need it! This could save us! End our suffering once and for all!"

Kirrahe disagreed, nonchalant, "That is hardly our concern right now. It would be a disastrous mistake if any of these krogan somehow moved off-world. In greater numbers, they would be unstoppable. That is exactly what Saren wants. We cannot allow that to happen. Please, be reasonable about this."

Getting in Kirrahe's face, Wrex jabbed at him, snarling—

"We are not a _mistake!_ We did the galaxy's dirty work by wiping out the rachni! And then what did the Council do?! They honored us by committing genocide on my brothers and sisters, our kin and brood! Neutered and desperate, stillbirths everywhere: broken families and crying mothers, all because of you fucking salarians _and_ turians needing to control us! I won't stand for this anymore, you hear me?!"

Wrex then stormed off to the other side of the beach, stomping past the team as he went.

Tali, Ashley, and Garrus stared after him; Liara emerged from her tent on that same far end, observing.

"Commander, is he going to be a problem?" worried Kirrahe. "My men are already on-edge because of the angry krogan outside of here. The last thing we need is to have one _in_ our camp."

I frowned, blaming myself for this.

I shouldn't have trusted Wrex's assessment on his state of mind.

I should have left him back on the ship, regardless of how much we needed him today.

But I couldn't let Captain Kirrahe—or the team—find out about my doubts, my worries, my concerns.

Especially not with Wrex venting off his aggressions like this: standing at the shoreline, he fired off his shotgun in the distance, one shot at a time. Booming shots blasting, echoing, those harsh sounds nearly cracked through my ears from the wide, snapping reverberations.

"I'll deal with him," I said. "If Wrex won't calm down, then I'll do whatever's necessary for the mission."

Kirrahe seemed satisfied with that. "Good," he accepted. "My people and I need to finalize our plan of action to take out the facility. I wish you luck with your krogan team member. We will leave you to it."

Walking over to Wrex at that shoreline, I realized the full extent of my dilemma here, punctured more by the sounds of his shotgun blasting heat off in the near-distance, resounding up to the rainclouds:

Why I had spent so much time and energy shielding myself;

Trying not to care about the team;

Trying to isolate myself, to make sure I could remain impartial at times like these.

Interrupting these realizations, Ashley reached my side, following after me.

"Commander, wait!" she tried. I kept walking through this sand, onward. "Shepard, you can't do this. Wrex is still hungover from last night! He's not thinking clearly right now—"

"—I know that."

"Then why are you going to talk to him?" questioned Ashley. "Can't we just—leave him here?! Or wait a while until he cools off? Maybe he'll listen to reason later on… Much, _much_ later on."

"And have Wrex tear apart the salarians instead? That's not happening. What kind of leader would I be if I allowed that?"

She justified, "Better them than you, Skipper…"

"I made the choice to bring him here, Ash. Now let _me_ deal with the consequences."

Ashley went quiet at that.

She kept on following me as I neared Wrex, here by the sea.

Mid-shot, Wrex stopped, turning to face me. His gnarled scowl, his hateful eyes beaming at me in full crimson, his facial scars somehow digging deeper into his skin: I fully understood what to expect here.

Smelling rain in the air, I stopped here with those expectations, wearing them over my chest with honor.

"This isn't right, Shepard," growled Wrex. "If there's a cure for the genophage, we can't destroy it!" I said nothing in response, staring at him with hardened eyes; he walked closer, scowling more. "What's this, huh? Trying to psych me out? Scare me into backing down? You're a _fool_ if you think I'll bow down to you… I joined this team because you made me _believe._ Made me believe there was more to life, more to this galaxy than fighting for credits! I've found that meaning I believed in, right here with this cure! Now you want to get rid of it because it's inconvenient! That's the worst kind of betrayal!"

Ashley remained somewhere behind me; out of the corner of my eye, Liara watched, not too far away.

Paper-thin as this glass cannon, I stood before Wrex, before his mounting anger, keeping my honor.

Stepping right up to me, Wrex sneered in my face, his breath smelling of alcohol, of Ryncol, still.

"You're pissing me off, kid," he chastised. "Where's that famous diplomacy of yours…? Why're you just standing there, staring at me? You're still a warrior, aren't you!? Then you'd better act like it!"

Wrex drew his shotgun, aiming it at my chest.

I remained still, unguarded.

At the same time, Ashley pulled out her pistol, aiming it at his head.

"Drop the weapon, Wrex!" she shouted. "Drop your weapon or I'll shoot!"

Keeping his gun pointed at me, Wrex chuckled. "I'm not surprised you'd turn on me, Chief," he remarked. "Picking sides, you'll choose the one you love over anyone else, any day. That's exactly what I'm doing—for the krogan, for _my people._ No harm in that! Now why don't _you_ drop your weapon?"

Cold, emotionless, Ashley mocked him, "I don't think so, friend."

Wrex laughed louder, high to the skies.

"We're _friends,_ all right!" he derided. "But this isn't about you and me. Shepard's my problem, not you."

"You made me your problem the second you drew your gun on her. I don't care _who_ you are, Wrex—if you won't fall in line and stay loyal to the commander, then you're dead to me. Don't test my patience!"

Right when Wrex looked like he was about to aim his gun at Ashley instead, I intervened:

Outstretching my arm in front of her, I said, "Ashley, let me handle this. I don't want you involved."

Eyes narrowing in confusion, Wrex kept his weapon pointed at me.

Ashley fought back, "Commander, he won't listen to reason! I can't risk anything happening to you—!"

Deliberate, so deliberate, I faced her, turning my back to Wrex, completely.

Well-aware of what I risked, so very aware, I neared Ashley with this awareness: how she widened her eyes at me in her disbelief, in her swelling fears. I intercepted her pistol, pushing her aim down and out of the way. She kept her gun at her side, hand trembling. She kept her eyes to mine, holding on to me through her sight, second by second; needing to suffocate me _herself_ if these were our last moments.

Fully expecting my back to fill with pellets of heat from Wrex's shotgun, I hardened my order:

"Gunnery Chief Williams, drop your weapon and _stand down."_

Locked eyes, locked and loaded, Ashley lowered her pistol with the quaking of her hand.

Bending her knees, she moved in a feeble reluctance.

She dropped her gun to the sand.

Leaving her that way, I turned back around, and went to Wrex, directly to him.

I made sure to return as I was: his shotgun aimed right at my chest.

Visibly unnerved, almost trembling as much as Ashley behind me, Wrex could only stare back.

Hollowed eyes, with Liara still gaping at me in my periphery—I understood what I had to do here.

Somewhere farther behind me, I felt Tali fearing for me, already crying behind her mask. Her raw emotions reached me, fully fortifying my heart: I found my resolve to do what I needed to do.

I grabbed the length of Wrex's gun, pulling it into me, pressing it here over my heart. Breathing harder, he glanced down at his weapon, and then back up at me; down and back, and down and behind me and back up again.

"Shoot me, Wrex," I told him, point-blank. "If that's what you really want to do, then do it." When Wrex could only keep staring at me, bewildered, I gripped the barrel of his gun harder, jabbing myself. "Shoot me, take the cure, and turn your people into those same mindless slaves. Go down in history as the reckless _fool_ from Clan Urdnot who turned the krogan into Saren's puppets, all because he couldn't control his emotions _or_ hold his liquor."

Unnerved, unnerved; Ashley stopped herself from sobbing; Wrex stared into death in my eyes, finding my history, and all I had seen. He found me practically undead in the face of his centuries of experience.

" _Kill me_ —if you have the quads to do it."

Accepting his only answer, Wrex loosened his grip over his gun.

I loosened my grip as well.

Lowering his head, Wrex lowered his weapon, first, before holstering it behind him.

Ashley breathed out her reprieve, choking back her own emotions for the final time.

Shameful as he spoke, Wrex recalled, "I remember what you told me, Shepard… Months ago, back when I first joined you on the Citadel: going after Fist, you told me to use my head before I fire my gun. I told you that I would, and that I'd follow you. I should've remembered sooner… I don't say this often, _if at all_ —but I respect you. You've done more for me than my own family ever did. So…I'm sorry."

"You didn't have all of your faculties," I reasoned. "That was on me. Have you calmed down now?"

"Yeah… You've made your point, loud and clear. I don't like this, but I trust you enough to follow your lead. You earned my loyalty long ago. I'd better act like it from now on."

I offered my hand, letting him know that I had already forgiven him.

Grinning, Wrex clapped my hand with his, firm with his renewed friendship and loyalty.

"Just one thing," he added. "When we find Saren, I want his head."

"Of course, Wrex."

Wrex nodded to me, before going over to Ashley next.

"Sorry to you, too, Chief," he expressed. "I messed up back there. You're a real friend of mine. Hope you can forgive me for the shit I said, for what I did. If not, well, I'll understand…"

Setting her pistol away, Ashley caught her breath at last. "It's okay, Wrex," she allowed. "You stood down; you remembered your loyalties. That was all I wanted. Thanks—for putting the commander first."

Wrex smirked, joking, "Couldn't upset the clan chief like that, now could I?"

Ashley managed to laugh with him over what I guessed was their inside joke.

_Clan chief?_

I let them have their moment, anyway, returning to the tent where Captain Kirrahe was.

Everyone soon followed after me.

On the way, Tali, Garrus, Liara, and Ashley: all of them shared lighter words with Wrex in reconciliation.

I let myself feel relieved, too, glad that the confrontation hadn't ended how I'd expected it to.

Maybe my honor was a good luck charm.

Out of everyone in the group, though, I felt someone in particular looking at me. I turned around, finding everyone still chatting with Wrex—except for Tali. In this lighting, I could see the brights of her eyes behind her mask. Maybe shaped in worry. Maybe shaped in concern. Worry and concern for me.

After that confrontation, I didn't blame her for feeling this way.

I nodded to Tali, reassuring her that I was all right. Glad that she cared this much about me.

In response, those brights lifted: Tali seemed to smile at me, returning my nod. Glad that I was okay.

Finding the captain again, he looked glad to see me, with my team unharmed as well.

"I'm glad you've returned in one piece, Commander," said Kirrahe. "You have a knack for diplomacy."

"We're past that now," I told him, needing to move on. "Any word on our plan of attack?"

"Yes, we've decided—we will turn our ship's drive core into a bomb to destroy the base. We will need to place it in the best possible location for a precise hit. Your ship can drop the bomb off at the breeding facility. But we will need to go in on foot, disable the additional AA guns, and get rid of any ground units in our way. It will have to be a straight fight through. It is unavoidable at this point."

My favorite tactic. Wonderful.

The team lightened up more behind me, sensing my distaste for this.

"It can't be helped, then," I settled. "Any ideas on how you want to organize this run?"

Kirrahe explained: "I'll have my teams hit the front of the facility to draw the enemy's attention. Your 'Shadow' team will infiltrate from the back and get to the breeding facility as the rendezvous point. Once the bomb is on-site, place it next to the geothermal taps, then get out before it detonates. My teams will escape and try to get out of the blast radius. Also, please accept this copy of the facility's schematics. This will help you find your way to the rendezvous point. I'll upload it to your omni-tool."

"Sounds good," I replied, accepting the transfer from his omni-tool to mine. "Do you need anything from me, or are we ready to head out?"

"Actually, I do have a favor to ask. I will need one of your team members to help with the frontal assault. My men and I may be woefully unmatched against the onslaught awaiting us. We are prepared to sacrifice ourselves if necessary, but I would much rather we not throw our lives away before ensuring that the mission is a success. Even one person from your team could certainly improve our odds."

Turning to glance at my team, once, I asked the captain, "What makes you so sure about this?"

"Commander, the answer is quite clear," insisted Kirrahe. "My men are skilled, dedicated, but our numbers are waning. We have lost many comrades, many friends over the course of this mission. Our morale is low. I will do what I can to rekindle their fighting spirit, though I cannot make up for the rest. Having at least one person among us who trusts you will go a long way."

"Makes sense. Is there anyone in particular that you need? Certain skills you're looking for?"

"Ideally someone powerful who is comfortable handling large groups of enemies at once. There will be a large number of geth and krogan in our way. So we will be better suited with someone who can quickly eliminate those enemies, or someone who can survive long enough to eventually take them down."

Facing everyone again, I looked to them one by one, considering each of them:

Wrex was automatically out of the running. We had all forgiven him, but I couldn't take that chance.

Garrus was more methodical in his fighting, like I was, just without the cloak. So he was a no-go.

Tali was an expert against the geth, but those krogan… I didn't want to put her in harm's way like that.

And so that left either Ashley or Liara to send with Captain Kirrahe's people.

Going by his description of the type of person he needed, they both sounded perfect for the job. Ashley could definitely withstand a frontal assault like this, and I trusted her to survive long enough to take out anything in her way. Liara was best at crowd control and eliminating large groups _quickly_ —and she was in an aggressive mood today, which had proved to only be a benefit for us so far. She didn't have Ashley's survivability, but in a situation like this, that wasn't necessary.

Liara could overpower those groups of enemies while protecting Kirrahe's teams, all at the same time.

Sensing my choice, she smiled at me with her acceptance.

Turning back to the captain once more, I made my decision: "You can take Liara with you. I'm betting your teams could benefit the most from her biotics. She's a powerhouse—you'll need her for this."

Kirrahe nodded. "Absolutely, Commander," he approved. "Dr. T'Soni will make a fine addition to our teams. I am sure our chances of surviving have vastly improved. Thank you for your generosity. We will leave our radios on to ensure that you are able to track our progress with her by our side. Only I will be the one giving out orders to your teammate—no one else. You needn't worry."

"And what happens if you and I give conflicting orders, Captain?"

"Well, then, we will have to rely on T'Soni to make a choice. Hopefully, the right choice for us all."

Looking to Liara, I knew that I trusted her. I wasn't worried.

"Now, Commander," said Kirrahe. "If you'll excuse me, I need to address my men."

He made his way over to one of the other tents, speaking with one of his officers first.

Seeing her off now, Tali gave Liara a brief hug, wishing her luck. Wrex and Garrus offered words of encouragement, promising that we would all see Liara again once the mission was over. Ashley only watched their exchanges from nearby, as if she _wanted_ to say something to her, but could not.

Everyone except for Liara then headed over to join the large group of salarians, waiting for Kirrahe.

Liara and I stayed here in silence for a moment. We shared this feeling together: if something went wrong, then this could have been our last conversation.

I asked her, "Will you be all right, going with them?"

"Yes, Shepard," replied Liara. "I will be fine. Your reasons for choosing me were sound. As always."

I looked to Kirrahe standing before his men, giving a rousing speech to everyone there:

" _You all know the mission, and what is at stake. I have come to trust each of you with my life—but I have also heard murmurs of discontent. I share your concerns. We are trained for espionage; we would be legends, but the records are sealed. Glory in battle is not our way."_

Liara regarded me in understanding, knowing the words I couldn't say: my unspoken priorities.

She smiled at me.

Still, I caught a bit of melancholy there.

"What's the matter?" I wondered. Liara shook her head, eyes nearly welling with tears dulled by the gloomy clouds above. "Hey, talk to me… What is it? Whatever it is, you can tell me. You know that."

Sniffling her emotions back, Liara shared, "When Wrex confronted you, I knew what you intended to do. Taking responsibility for your choices like that… Still, I knew that you would succeed, and so I did not intervene. You would have disapproved anyway. On the off-chance that Wrex was on the verge of firing his gun, then I had a stasis field prepared for him. I wouldn't have allowed you to die. Not for anything."

"Somewhere, I think I knew that."

"Well, I only wanted to make sure you knew for certain…"

I noticed this vibe about her—"Was there something else you wanted to say?"

Kirrahe was still in the middle of his speech, walking back and forth in front of the crowd there: his people, his soldiers, and my team somewhere in the middle, all of them taking in the moment.

" _Think of our heroes: the Silent Step, who defeated a nation with a single shot. Or the Ever Alert, who kept armies at bay with hidden facts. These giants do not seem to give us solace here, but they are not all that we are."_

A little shy, Liara hesitated, staring down at my boots.

She then enflamed her hands in that biotic blue, settling her soothing touch over my face.

Smooth as this fetish, calming as this pacifier of mine: Liara only gave me this feeling. This reminder of our bond, if not outright sharing a memory with me this time. From this emotion she gave me by her hands alone, by her biotics here, I felt all of my worries leave me, helping me focus more for the mission.

Liara whispered to me, "I love you, Shepard. I love you so very much…"

"I love you, too, Liara," I expressed, smiling at her.

When she ended her touch, dissolving her powers as normal, her shyness returned.

There was more. So much more, but she wouldn't tell me.

"Hey, we still have some time," I coaxed. "What is it?"

Liara looked deep into my eyes, pulling out something from my hidden emotions, "No matter how thoroughly I search, I cannot seem to find the answer to this question of mine. I must ask you directly: why is it that you feel I am the 'one who got away' from you?"

Realizing that she was right—that I _did_ feel this way—I could only stare at her.

She went on, " _You_ are the one who already wanted another woman before me. You are the one who made the decision to be with her. And I am not going anywhere. Despite everything, you always have the choice of returning to me whenever you please. I still want you to, in fact. You know this. So, _why?"_

" _Before the network, there was the fleet. Before diplomacy, there were soldiers!"_

Flashes of remembrance, to when I went through so much loss growing up: losing my friends, losing my home, losing my way of life, losing everyone I knew to drugs and gang violence; and then, again, with my relationships as an adult, losing every woman in my life to my own decisions, destroying them from my distance, or giving up on them once my resentments began to cloud whatever I felt in my heart.

This feeling of loss with Liara was related to that…but not quite the same.

Losing someone I had never had: that sudden, knee-jerk reaction I'd had when Liara had told me we couldn't have a relationship back then.

I tried to explain, "I just feel like…if the circumstances had been different, then you and I would have been together _freely._ No problems, no issues. No one else. But that's not what happened. I guess, deep down, I dwell on that sometimes. I think about what-ifs. You are the one who got away from me."

"There is something more to this," noticed Liara. "Far more."

I reached as deep into my own perception as I could this time: "You _have_ to know that I'm terrified of losing you. I don't get this feeling with anyone else. I'm not worried about it with other people. Not to this extent… Yeah, we have our bond, and that stabilizes me. I'm not sure…why I feel so strongly about keeping you close to me like this. I'm in a relationship with someone else. It isn't fair to you."

"This is no longer about fairness, Shepard," she reasoned. "We are not in rational territory anymore. _Rationally,_ you know that I will always love and support you. I truly enjoy that you are in love with me in this selfish way. Unconsciously, I seem to have latched onto a part of you that no normal person could ever reach. And it is very beautiful to me. I only wonder why your fears continue to linger this strongly."

"I don't know, Liara… Like I mentioned, I only feel this way with you. Everything else you said is spot-on."

The last of Kirrahe's rallying words:

" _Our influence stopped the rachni, but before that, we held the line! Our influence stopped the krogan, but before that, we held the line!"_

The last of our stolen time together.

Liara frowned over something. Something else, something separate. Something that wasn't entirely related to me—not directly. Something that I had been trying to get at all this time, in asking her to speak freely with me. Even from before today. I sensed that this was an old problem, festering in her, and it had finally blown up to the surface, causing this newfound aggression in her combat abilities.

Whatever this was, it was _personal_ for her.

But as Kirrahe finished his speech, Liara only looked to me, fearful and uncertain.

" _Our influence will stop Saren; in the battle today, we will hold the line!"_

Supportive, I set my hand on her shoulder, smiling over how much of a sweetheart she was to me.

"I trust you, Liara. Completely. I promise you'll always be in this special, precious place here with me. I'm not ashamed of that. So do your best out there with the salarians. Do whatever it takes to make it back home to me—whatever's necessary. I'll see you soon, okay?"

Liara smiled back at me as much as she could. And that was enough, for now, until I could see her again.

* * *

Pushing onward to Saren's research facility, I followed behind my remaining team: Ashley taking point, with Garrus, Tali, and Wrex just behind her. Rushing through these shallow waterways in between these cliffs and rocky crags, we made our way through these sandy compounds littered with geth and pissed off krogan experiments. Having to take out those experiments pissed me off just as much, reminding me of Wrex's pain: but he was reasonable enough to not let this get to him, fighting with his rage instead.

Listening to the radio chatter from Kirrahe and his men, I split my focus between my own shooting and keeping up with their progress with the frontal assault. From the sounds of it, they had things well under control—they formed a wall around Liara, giving her plenty of room to take out the hostiles in their way before anyone could get too hurt. She was their ace.

Cloaking to scout on my own, I took out the geth defenses here, crippling their coordination together.

Cloaking for the power boost, I was free to snipe from this distance while the others moved ahead: taking out the geth's long-range units before they could get to Ashley, or stopping those krogan mid-charge before they could rush her flank. Or in general, I picked off anyone or anything that was about to catch one of my people off-guard, as I had a much better view of the field from way back here.

The booming kickback from my sniper rifle ricocheting through these sandy valleys seemed to make my team fight harder, knowing that I had their backs.

So much so that Ashley smiled as I cloaked past her to disable some more of those defenses: a geth transmitter lodged here in the sand. She followed me with her eyes as I did this, catching the glimmer of my invisibility from the cloudy light of the day. I could tell she was in a much better mood from earlier.

Proving me right, Ashley made such a random comment in kid-like joy, "Nothing like a nice, relaxing stroll on the beach…blasting bad guys with my boomstick!"

I shook my head in amusement.

Wrex bellowed with laughter, rushing ahead to slam another geth out of our way.

Garrus puzzled, "Chief, what does that even _mean?_ Your…boomstick?"

"You know, my gun!" said Ashley, holding up her big Lancer assault rifle.

"This is the strangest thing I've heard you say," noted Tali. "And you have said _many_ strange things."

Knowing my reaction without seeing a thing, Ashley still told me, "Sorry, I'll be serious now."

"Mm-hmm, sure you will," I allowed.

Ashley just smiled again, continuing forward.

Unseen, I smiled with her, following behind.

We soon reached the main facility, taking out more geth and more krogan in our way. Winding paths of concrete and long bridges sitting over the waterways here, we hurried along, running and gunning our way through. Without as much room to snipe anymore, I switched to my pistol, firing off headshots. Wrex and Ashley excelled more here, making better use of this chance for close-quarters combat. Tali hacked any geth still left over, making them shoot at another instead of us, while Garrus stripped their shields and finished off anything he could find at medium-range.

As useless as I felt right now, I had to accept that this wasn't my time to shine.

At the back entrance to the building, Tali reached the security panel to unlock the doors for us.

"Shepard, I can disable the alarms on the doors," she said. "It looks like I can also set the alarms off on the far-side of the base. That will make things easier for us, but Captain Kirrahe and Liara will have more security guards to deal with on their end. What should we do?"

"Just disable the alarms here," I decided. "They have enough to worry about."

"Okay, disabling them now."

Glow of the door controls along the wall, from red to green, and we headed inside the building.

Such a large room with too many crates and too much cargo, and not enough room to maneuver—these geth juggernauts charging at us everywhere nearly threw me off. I hated having to cloak and hide like this just to protect myself, sometimes waiting for the others to gun down the worst out of my way. Either no one noticed my frustrations or they chose not to say anything, focused on moving ahead.

We took an elevator up one floor, following the directions through my omni-tool.

Passing an overhead landing here inside, I saw a number of prison cells lined up below us. One person for each cell, I spotted some salarians there—some of them standing still, their fists against the glass; others screaming as they convulsed around, ramming their hands against the glass to try and break their way out, to no avail.

In our path, we found some of those same anguished salarians, attacking us in their twisted agony.

Kirrahe had mentioned that he'd lost some of his men to enemy capture…

Ashley didn't hesitate: she gunned them down, expecting the others to follow suit.

They did so, more disturbed than they had been when facing those angry krogan experiments.

Seething more, I finished off anything in reach with my pistol, guiding us ahead.

Another elevator up to the genophage labs filled with pods, terminals, and medical equipment—here we found a krogan and asari doctor surrounded by those same husks from Eden Prime, all of them rushing at us at once. Ashley guarded me closely, destroying anything that moved. Wrex took out the krogan and asari doctors himself, firing his shotgun into their faces. Garrus and Tali cleaned up the rest.

Trying to push away my revulsion with these damned experiments, I led everyone back outside.

More paths over the water, with the sky's overcast still not letting up: we got rid of these last geth in front of us before reaching the wide room leading to Saren's private lab.

Hiding under a table by the open view of the skies, I saw an asari scientist cowering over there.

Rifle drawn, Ashley walked ahead, right toward her.

The asari suddenly stood, begging, "Wait, don't shoot! I'm unarmed, see? I just want to get out of here!"

Standing next to Ashley, I gestured for her to hold off for now.

She set her rifle away— _for now._

"Who are you?" I asked the scientist. "And what the hell are you doing here?"

"My name is Rana!" she cried. "Rana Thanoptis… I'm a neurospecialist, and this job _isn't_ worth dying over—or worse… I've seen enough from the indoctrination effects around here. Saren thinks he's safe, but it's only a matter of time. Sovereign will get to him eventually. The data so far is indisputable."

"The data? You mean you were _working_ here in these labs? Studying indoctrination?"

Rana glanced at my sidearm along my hip, and shuddered to respond, "Yes… Yes, that's correct. That ship Sovereign emits a signal—an indoctrination signal. Virtually undetectable. Saren uses that signal to his advantage, influencing the people who follow him, controlling them with it. He's afraid that he'll fall victim to the indoctrination himself. So, he sent us here to study the effects, hoping to find a solution to the problem… Apparently there already _is_ a solution, but it is 'out of his reach'. He wouldn't say why."

I glanced to what looked like an access card in her pocket, asking, "Do you have any information on this existing solution? The one that's out of Saren's reach? I might know what it is."

"Unfortunately, I don't…"

"Then what did you find out instead?"

"We were only here to study the signal itself," she clarified. "It is a subtle, insidious corruption of the mind. More than a signal, it's an energy field directly from the ship that changes thought patterns. Steadily, over time, your will begins to weaken. Should the ship exert more control, you will become a mindless slave. We understand that this field is strongest when Sovereign feels threatened, somehow."

"And you discovered all of this by conducting brutal experiments on helpless test subjects."

Rana tried to defend her actions, "Yes, _yes,_ but—I only did what I was told!" Trembling before my unforgiving glare, she tried to negotiate with me, to save her own ass, so pitiful: "Here, let me redeem myself! I can give you access to Saren's private labs. All of his files, all of his secrets—"

"—that doesn't make up for what you did here. Nothing will."

Pleading with me in her fucked up justifications: "I didn't have a choice! _I'm sorry!"_

I'd heard it all before.

Too many times before.

Aiming my pistol right between her fearful eyes, I made myself clear, _"Sorry_ doesn't help your victims."

I executed her point-blank.

Kneeling down to her corpse bleeding out from her head, I took that access card for myself.

My team followed me to the nearby elevator, stepping over that violet blood pooling out, everywhere.

The access card worked, letting us in. We took the remaining elevators, following the path to where they led. No one said a word, though I felt their shared thoughts, their remembrance: this _other solution_ to resisting Reaper indoctrination, and how I'd accidentally found it for myself while dealing with the Thorian. I'd had no need to confirm as much out loud, but they all knew that this was all linked, just as Liara had shared with me in the Temple of Athame not long ago.

Nearing our destination, Ashley in particular watched me with a somber sense of foreboding.

I couldn't understand how I knew this, yet I felt her troubles—how she viewed herself as _expendable_ in this coming battle, much like her initial apprehensions over being my second-in-command.

Maybe even expendable in my heart, next to someone else with more real-world _importance._

I wanted to say something to Ashley about this, but now wasn't the time for that kind of sentimentality.

Reaching this enclosed space of the lab, I didn't immediately see anything here worth hiding. A long platform in the center, windows along the far wall gazing out to the sea: no terminals, no files or books sitting around.

Halfway down the nearby ramp, Ashley pointed out, "Commander, there's another beacon here. Like the one on Eden Prime. Definitely looks the same. It's pretty hard to forget…"

That pale Prothean green emitting from the base, like a noxious gas, and glowing over the control panel:

The similarities were undeniable. This must have been one of Saren's so-called secrets here in this lab.

Not wanting to take any risks, Wrex, Garrus, and Tali remained right where they were.

I headed down the ramp, setting my hand over Ashley's shoulder, saying to her, "Stay here this time."

She lowered her head in understanding.

Walking past her, I went over to the beacon, preparing myself.

Interacting with the beacon's control panel, I gave into this familiar loss of control: lifting me up from the ground, and this searing pain in my head, these enflamed sights before my eyes continued from that same vision I saw on Eden Prime. These images of anguish, from the Protheans, from their destruction; the chopped-up screeching and tearing against the walls of my mind, clawing at me with the same desperation from the Protheans in their helplessness, as if begging me to save them; and this close-up of such a specific planet burning black through these flames, eclipsed from my full view and understanding.

More than that, I felt a true connection to the Protheans this time, as if I knew them. As if the threads binding our existences together were actually tangible, surrounding my will and my mind both. Linked through our shared, collective unconscious, I understood the Protheans' physiology as a whole, as a species, able to intuit their emotions: their distress, their defenses, and their desperation to survive.

On the surface of this planet filled with vegetation and magnificent stone architecture, I watched as pairs of people gripped one another through their destruction: their minds in-tact, safe from indoctrination, they still fell to the overwhelming force of the violence casting them down, no matter their mental defenses.

Still, no matter how much I _understood_ them, it wasn't enough.

No better off than before, the beacon let me go. I gripped my head, having somehow survived this round without passing out, unlike last time. Still in-tact, the Prothean beacon remained there in near-uselessness, as it hadn't shown me much more that I could actually make sense of.

I just wanted to get the hell out of here and move on to the rendezvous point for the bomb.

But a new, glowing red panel atop the ramp caught my eye, at the end of that center platform.

Observing me to make sure that I was all right, my team followed me to the panel.

Coming to life, a large, red, translucent _figure_ appeared there, shaped a lot like that Reaper ship we had seen flying off from Eden Prime: short, claw-like arms protruding from the side of its sharp, tall, towering form. I could never forget it. This Reaper ship could have only been Sovereign itself, staring back at us with eyes we couldn't see, judging us with a mind we couldn't grasp.

I used my omni-tool to record this, sensing the potential here for posterity.

Calculating, systematic, monotone, as if its every word was an unquestionable statement of fact—Sovereign's voice resounded through my entire being, _"You are not Saren. Rudimentary creatures of blood and flesh. You touch my mind, fumbling in ignorance. Incapable of understanding."_

Ashley didn't remember the same from Eden Prime: "What the hell is this…? Is it a VI interface?"

Tali reasoned, "I don't think this is a VI…"

" _There is a realm of existence so far beyond your own, you cannot even imagine it. I am beyond your comprehension. I am Sovereign."_

"This is Saren's ship," I noted, holding onto my awareness. "Remember, Sovereign is an actual Reaper."

" _Reaper: a label created by the Protheans to give voice to their destruction. In the end, what they chose to call us is irrelevant. We simply—are."_

Wrex recalled, "The Protheans were wiped out 50,000 years ago! How'd you survive after all this time?"

" _Organic life is nothing but a genetic mutation. An accident. Your lives are measured in years, and decades. You wither, and die. We are eternal. The pinnacle of evolution and existence. Before us, you are nothing. Your extinction is inevitable. We are the end of everything."_

Ashley fought back, "Whatever your plan is, it's going to fail! We'll make sure of that."

" _Confidence born of ignorance. The cycle cannot be broken."_

"Cycle?" asked Garrus, anxious. "What cycle?"

" _The pattern has repeated itself more times than you can fathom. Organic civilizations rise, evolve, advance. And at the apex of their glory, they are extinguished. The Protheans were not the first. They did not create the Citadel. They did not forge the mass relays—they merely found them. The legacy of my kind."_

I had to know, "Why would you construct the mass relays, then leave them for someone else to find?"

" _Your civilization is based on the technology of the mass relays. Our technology. By using it, your society develops along the paths we desire. We impose order on the chaos of organic evolution. You exist because we allow it. And you will end because we demand it."_

"They're harvesting us!" agonized Tali. "Letting us advance to the level they need, then wiping us out!"

"Where did you come from?" I asked. "Who built you?"

" _We have no beginning. We have no end. We are infinite. Millions of years after your civilization has been eradicated and forgotten, we will endure. We are legion. The time of our return is coming. Our numbers will darken the sky of every world. You cannot escape your doom."_

"What do you want from us? Slaves, resources?"

" _My kind transcends your very understanding. We are each a nation. Independent. Free of all weakness. You cannot even grasp the nature of our existence."_

Right as Sovereign said that, I spotted a change about its form.

Somewhere up top, near what I imagined was its 'head' or its 'mind', I saw a large opening of some kind. That extra space there glowed the same pale green from the Prothean beacon below, blinking, and notifying me of its existence. It did this as if in direct defiance of Sovereign's claims: the last gasp of hope from the ones who tried before, now letting me stand on their shoulders, over the ashes of their efforts.

Judging by everyone else's non-reactions, I was the only one who could see this.

Testing this for myself, I challenged, "Are you sure about that? Free of _all_ weakness?"

Sovereign paused.

It hesitated.

Reacting this time, Ashley, Garrus, Tali, and Wrex behind me all exchanged looks with one another.

They felt the weight of my questions, of my challenge, and of Sovereign's silence. Even if they couldn't see this added weak point there in the ship's glowing red form, they could at least see my determination. Even if they couldn't sense the same, they were each loyal to me in their own ways, choosing to believe in my intuition alongside me.

I wouldn't say something like this unless I had proof—direct facts before my eyes.

" _Human: you speak with impudence beyond your conscious perception. The power strengthening your will is…adequate. Such infantile desperation in the one who elevates you as an organic god. Imperfect, variable, fallible—you are incapable of ascending to those ingenuous beliefs. As with the Protheans, your defenses born from this child will not endure our control. Our influence is infinite. Before us, your mind will falter, and you will fall. You cannot breach us; you cannot comprehend us. It is inexorable."_

"I doubt that," I sneered. "You _do_ have a weakness. Whatever it is, we'll find it and put you down! If we can do that, then we don't need to _comprehend_ you. We can study you just fine once you're destroyed."

Sovereign paused again.

It hesitated, again.

And then it continued on, as if uninterrupted:

" _Your words are as empty as your future. Even should you succeed, our legacy will impose your submission, and the cycle will continue. I am the vanguard of your destruction. This exchange is over."_

Powerful winds, and the windows over the wall blew out, shattering from the blast. Blaring of an obnoxious noise outside, so egotistical—somewhere out there, a gigantic force lifted from Virmire's surface, taking to the skies in hubris and narcissism.

Scrambling to cut off this recording, I looked to the others, making sure they were all right. Aside from shielding their faces with their arms, protecting themselves from the flying glass, everyone seemed fine.

I felt this change in me, though.

Or at least, the beginning of one—the beginning of a continuation, somehow, and one that had started in me some months ago. It was that sense of honor in me, mending my imperfections, my variability, and my fallibility, if not outright ridding me of them and turning me into something I wasn't. No, I still felt like _me._ I was just more aware of these powers strengthening me, elevating me, at least for this moment, before they receded way back into my mind, out of my perception and my reach.

Joker called us, _"Commander, you need to get the hell out of there! That ship Sovereign is on the move!"_

"We hear you, Joker," I responded, barely pulling myself out of my thoughts.

At my side already, Ashley looked to me, asking, "Orders, Commander?"

I told everyone, "Time to get to the breeding facility. We have to take out the next AA turret in the way. Then Joker can get the ship to the rendezvous point with the nuke. Let's move out!"

* * *

Continuing on with the mission—leaving Saren's lab, and hurrying over to disable that AA gun—I still felt acutely aware of this change in me. Somehow, having Sovereign acknowledge my ability to resist its indoctrination made me that much more aware of my potential, as strange and unusual as it was. I wasn't entirely convinced that it was even possible at all. Hell, even resisting the Thorian had seemed more like a fluke than anything.

But now I had both Shiala, and Sovereign telling me that it was possible to pull that off again.

Possible: my power was _adequate_ in the face of a Reaper. It was possible for me to actually resist its indoctrination head-on. It was possible for my will to insulate me from that control, since I was already under someone else's protection. And no matter how comparatively weak this protection was, compared to a Reaper, this power of mine worked as a singular expression of trust and faith. I was still myself, but elevated by that exchange of trust. This belief could have really carried me through, no matter how superior the enemy was.

Facing down that superiority with only a hope and a wish—it sounded completely insane to me.

But Saren must have believed in this same capability, otherwise he wouldn't have tried so hard to kidnap Liara on Therum that day. He was so much closer to Sovereign than I was; closer to the Reapers than anyone in the galaxy. If he was confident about this, too, then that spoke for itself.

_Liara…_

I hoped she was all right with Captain Kirrahe and his men.

Technically, I knew that she was just fine—I still listened in to the radio chatter with the salarians, letting us know that they had taken out the AA gun on their end of the facility, and now Joker was all-clear to meet us at the rendezvous point. But on an emotional level, I sensed that same fear and uncertainty from Liara, separate from the mission. She was all the way on the other side of this place, separated by an impossible drop over a huge body of water, and yet I continued to feel this sharpness about her.

And I worried about the biggest problem. Bigger than Sovereign, bigger than even its superiority—

_One mind, one master._

Just one. Not two, not more. I only had one mind. I could only have one 'master'. I already had one.

Only one person could be in here in my head, sharing this intimate space and elevating me, _otherwise…_

Heading through the shallow waters of the breeding trench, my team and I reached a large, heavy gate. Past this gate, we finally reached drop point for the bomb. More water beneath our feet, and a spread of fortified space between two heavy walls, filled with gas tanks primed to explode. And this stubborn, miserable view of the sky, and of how it refused to rain: I stared up at that drear as we waited for the _Normandy_ to get here with the nuke, waiting to proceed.

Tali, Wrex, and Garrus took the moment to chat together, cooling down after this long stretch of fighting, with only that conversation with Sovereign breaking up the pace before. Oblivious, they knew nothing of all that continued to plague my thoughts—Shiala, Sovereign, Saren, Liara, the Thorian. They could rest easy, believing that Sovereign's threats were simply beyond their comprehension.

Standing alone next to the geothermal taps rising as a tall barrier, Ashley stared off at nothing. Lost in her thoughts, I knew that Feros was on her mind, that Shiala was on her mind. She had been present during that conversation with Liara and me, down in the Thorian's empty lair. And though she'd had little reason to suspect anything, I was certain that Ashley had put two and two together by now. She knew enough about what was at stake here, even though Saren was our primary concern right now.

Gentle sounds of water shifting beneath me—I went over to Ashley, standing just behind her. She wouldn't face me. She wouldn't let me see her pain, not even during these brief moments of respite.

So I asked her, "How are you feeling, Ash?"

Blunt, matter-of-fact: "Expendable, Sir."

Mission or no mission, my heart sank, listening to her say that. The way she tried to keep her emotions out of this made everything worse for me. I felt her many resentments clogging her throat, too, reminding her of how mortal she was, so to speak. At least compared to other people, other things.

"Do you want to talk about it?" I offered. "We have some time."

Ashley deepened her voice, her intentions—"I've never felt as small as I do right now. _Insignificant._ Like it's all out of my control. Like there's nothing I can do to change things. No matter how strongly I feel about you, it's…meaningless."

"I don't think that's true."

"Shepard, you don't have to spare my feelings. _Of course_ it's true. We're going to have to face this one way or another. We can't keep putting it off forever."

"I know that," I replied. "I know…"

Controlling herself, Ashley swallowed back the worst of her impulses: the hurtful words I felt salting the tip of her tongue, the memory of my lips over hers as an open wound right now.

Still, she needed to know where we stood together.

Turning to look at me in earnest, Ashley asked, "Are you going to break up with me over this…?"

"No," I told her, firm. "I'm not doing that."

"Not _now,_ anyway… You're going to have to eventually. It's inevitable. It's for the galaxy—our duty."

I had to be honest with her: "Ashley, you mean more to me than anything. _Absolutely anything._ I'm not throwing you away, no matter how meaningless you think you are! You're not expendable. You're not insignificant, either. I've _never_ felt this way about anyone before. _You_ are my heart. You have to know that…"

The weight of her misery pushed down on me as she touched my face, ran her gloved hand through my hair. Black of her armor, dulled in this day's dull, dull light, her spirit had blunted, her soul had crested.

"I'm not your mind," said Ashley, so simple in that weight. "You have to know that, too. And by this point…there's nothing I can do to fight it. It's already there, already decided. I can't compete with that."

Keeping myself together, I knew the answer already—"Are you going to leave _me,_ then? Is that it?"

Cynical, Ashley managed to smirk at me. "No… You're going to have to be the one to push me away. Of course, I know what I said here. I know what I meant. I know how powerless I am in this situation. But I'm telling you now, Shepard: I'm way too selfish to let you go. I'd rather suffer this madness _with you_ than to dare leave your side. I wasn't sure if you would let me do that, considering…everything, I guess."

"Then let me be selfish, too, babe," I entreated. "Last night was the most meaningful, transcendent experience of my life. So _I'm not_ letting you go; _I'm not_ letting you walk away from me. That's that."

"…you make it sound like you'll hold on to me regardless of the consequences."

Hearing those approaching sounds of the _Normandy's_ engines, feeling that long shadow eclipse our moment here—I knew that now was the time to uncloak, even partially. I had held back from actually telling her this before. And I still wanted to, even now, if only to somehow keep protecting myself. With this limited time, I couldn't keep waxing and waning about this. I needed to find a compromise here.

Listening to the same sounds, seeing that same shadow behind me, Ashley watched me with eyes uncertain as I decided this. Uncertain, but still needing so much more from me, as I needed from her.

I brought up my omni-tool, typing in the original words, showing her the translation:

_Te amo._

_I love you._

This glow of orange over her wide, welling eyes: Ashley knew, and had already known. Now she had her confirmation. Despite my terrible timing, and despite my persisting silence, she knew for certain.

Stealing this last moment, I indulged myself in her lips, salted on the outside this time. Only a little. Only in this brief time we still had. Yet with her, every moment felt as an eternity. An impossible eternity that I never wanted to end, uninterrupted by the rest of our lives, by our duty. This eternity with her, too, meant far more to me than anything I could conceive, anything I could think to express without her.

Stealing these seconds, Ashley whispered through me, her determination renewed, "I love you, too… _So much._ You're a living, breathing miracle. I'm going to keep believing in us. Even if it _is_ meaningless. Even if this ends the way I keep worrying about…I can't give up on you. Not for anything."

Stroking her face dry once more, I smiled with my own hopes. "That sounds more like the Ash I know."

Ashley smiled back at me, so beautiful and full of life, exactly as I adored.

Despite our terrible timing, again, Ashley touched my face, taking me in—as selfish as she was, as masochistic as she was—before switching gears as needed. I then watched her go, leaving to the ship and leaving my side for now, _for now,_ to help the crew bring out that bomb the salarians had prepared.

I stared back up at the cloudy sky again, hoping to find some kind of answers somewhere up there.

But all I found staring back at me as this singular answer…was my honor, again. The same blind devotion in my own beliefs, my own convictions that could have gotten me killed during my confrontation with Wrex earlier. The same fear-defying justifications I had made to care about my team, even at arm's length in this way, as the only compromise I could come up with—instead of running away, as usual.

Honor, faith, a wing and a prayer: all normally so fragile, I felt them fortifying me instead, reassuring.

Everything would somehow work out without me needing to _do_ anything. Not exactly. Not really.

I wasn't certain how I knew any of this, but I decided to believe anyway.

This was better than running, better than worrying about everything that was way beyond my control.

Finding my focus again, I watched as Ashley and a few of our crew carried the bomb over here. Sizable, makeshift from the salarians' drive core, they were careful to set it down atop the water, here next to those geothermal taps. Joker took off with the _Normandy,_ getting out of range of the additional AA guns that had been out of our reach. He would return to us once it was time to escape the nuke.

The crew then proceeded to brief Ashley on the bomb's sequencing for detonation, direct from Captain Kirrahe's instructions.

She was my second-in-command—it only made sense that she should be the one to do this.

Kirrahe's nearly-panicked voice came through our radios, along with the sounds of gunfire and biotics: _"Commander, my team and I are still here with T'Soni—we're holding, but the geth have us pinned down at the AA tower! I'm not confident that we'll be able to reach the rendezvous point in time!"_

I hurried to respond, "Copy that, Captain. Do you need reinforcements to help you escape?"

" _Yes, we could certainly use the help! I'll send you our coordinates now. We are near the front of the facility, directly across from your location at the breeding grounds. If we could make the jump across these high walls, we would do so, but I fear we would only fall to the waters below!"_

"Sounds like too much of a risk," I reasoned. "We'll make our way around and get to you as soon as we can. Just hold on."

" _Understood, Commander—we are in your debt!"_

After the call ended, Ashley approached me again. "I should stay here, then," she figured. "I'll need a few minutes to finish arming the nuke, anyway. Go ahead and get Liara and the salarians."

Such a strange feeling I sensed through this would-be certainty.

But I didn't have time to linger here—I had to take the rest of the team to help Liara and the others.

"What is it?" worried Ashley.

I set my hand over her shoulder, serious in my meaning: "Griffons never die."

She smiled at me in nostalgia, repeating back: "Griffons never die."

I held on to that smile of hers as I left the area with Tali, Garrus, and Wrex, propelling me forward.

Hurrying through these shallow waters, across these many long paths, I felt my heart about to beat out of my chest, and _not_ from the exercise.

Directionless, almost, even though I knew exactly where to go: I had surrendered to this out-of-control feeling already. I had given in to the idea that I didn't have to worry, or stress out, or keep running anymore. So small and insignificant, no matter my power, I felt myself running into the eye of my own storm, a hurricane of my own making, as oblivious as I was today. Yet I couldn't dwell on it, because we had to get to Liara. I couldn't worry about this, either, because we had to get to her, and then get the hell off this planet to escape the bomb's blast.

We ran all the way across to the other side of the facility, the far side.

Almost to Kirrahe's location, almost to where Liara was with her temporary team of salarians.

Almost there, and then—

Joker called us, _"Oh, crap, Commander—shit's hitting the fan! I'm picking up a giant geth ship headed to the rendezvous point! Ashley's the only one there with the bomb!"_

I stopped in my tracks.

Locking up, I couldn't move, couldn't feel my limbs anymore.

Garrus, Tali, and Wrex caught up to me, heaving for breath and listening in.

Ashley's voice sounded through, _"I'm pinned down by the geth! Guarding the bomb as best as I can, but it's already armed! We have to get out of here soon!"_

Relieved that she was still all right, I asked her, "Ash, can you hold out until we get back?"

" _Yes, Commander! I'm taking cover behind these geothermal taps and gunning down any tin can that gets too close! I'm taking hits. Doesn't matter, though. I'll hold the line until you get here!"_

Tali pointed out in concern, "Shepard, we won't be able to help Captain Kirrahe and Liara escape, _and_ get back to Ashley in time… Not with that bomb ticking down."

"Tali's right," agreed Garrus, somber. "Ashley's tough, but I'm concerned she won't be able to pull this off. It took us a while to get over here in the first place. Liara and the salarians still need our help. Even if we manage to save the others and then run back, I'm worried Chief won't make it… It's too big a risk—we'll all end up nuked from orbit if we don't decide what to do here."

Wrex sighed. "Yeah, this is some shit," he muttered. "Unless you can pull off a miracle, Shepard, we're gonna have to leave one of them behind. _Damn,_ this hurts like hell…"

Closing my eyes, clamping down on my own shaking, my own sickness building in my stomach—

I forced myself to a calm, blocking everything else out.

Blocking it out, finding this quiet, finding the only answer—the same one that I had prepared for earlier, sharing with Liara in trust unspoken:

"Liara," I called to her. "Are you there?"

She responded back to me, sounding safe from all the gunfire everywhere, _"Yes, Shepard, I am here! It is…difficult to focus on your decision out here on the field. What are your orders?"_

Feeling the team's pained eyes on me, I asked her, "Is there any kind of opening for you to escape?"

" _Well…yes, I suppose there is—"_

Captain Kirrahe interrupted— _"Commander Shepard, did I hear you correctly? She cannot abandon us! Without T'Soni, my men and I are as good as dead! Our survival depends on her! We need you to help us evacuate! It is simply impossible for us to make it out on our own before the bomb detonates! Now please, belay that order, and I will simply pretend I misheard you—"_

"—Liara, retreat. Get the hell out of there, and hurry to the rendezvous point."

Kirrahe tried again— _"Dr. T'Soni, my men have families to return to! They have friends back on Sur'Kesh, the Citadel, our colonies! You must reconsider!"_

" _Captain…I am sorry,"_ decided Liara. _"I must do as Shepard asks. This is a conflict of interest, I know. I will have to leave you and the others behind…"_ Part of the line disconnected; Kirrahe removed himself from our radio frequency. _"Commander, there isn't time to talk now. I will retreat to the bomb site. Please go on ahead—I will make it there on my own."_

"Are you _sure,_ Liara? I just sent Kirrahe and his people to die. I have to know you're going to make it."

" _Yes, Shepard, I am sure,"_ she reassured me, fully confident.

Ignoring the rest of the team's astonished looks for now, I gave my next order, "Ashley, radio Joker, and tell him to meet us back at the bomb site. Are you still able to hold on?"

Pushing back her own shock over my decision, Ashley responded over those pulsing rifles, _"I'm… I'm holding! You don't have to rush to get back here—you'll only tire yourselves out. I can keep going!"_

"Understood. We'll see you soon."

" _Yes, Sir!"_

Once the call ended, I finally regarded everyone else.

Tali, Wrex, Garrus: they could hardly believe what I had done.

Hard-edged, I justified, "I'm not leaving Ashley or Liara behind. Not for anything. Does anyone have a problem with that?"

They each found their agreement, if not all at the same time.

Tali told me, "I don't think I could have done it myself… But, for Liara's sake, it was the right choice."

"Agreed," replied Wrex. "It was a tough call. Liara's more important than those salarians. Even if they are STG."

Trusting me, Garrus added, "They knew what they signed up for. Might be best to just not think about it." Sighing the last of his surprise away, he suggested, "Chief said she can hold out. She sounded mostly fine. And I think we're still pretty beat from the run over here. Think we can fast-walk our way back?"

"Yes, we'll go at a half-run this time," I settled, heading back with everyone. "Let's get back to Ashley, take out those geth while we wait for Liara if necessary, and then get the hell off of this planet."

* * *

_(Liara)_

My bond with Shepard continued to ring true, untainted and in perfect harmony with me, so melodic.

But this, this one thing—I had had enough. And not in black or white: in perfect color, free as the skies.

And those skies above continued to gloom, to doom this environment to a perpetual daylight darkness.

At the very back of the steadily-dwindling line of salarians, Captain Kirrahe stood before me. Behind him, his men held the line against the geth, but only barely. Without my biotic strikes, they fell one by one, screaming in agony as they collapsed to the ground.

At our side, a long drop awaited off of the end of this fortified wall, down to the deep waters below.

Across from this wall, and those waters, were the lower walls of the breeding facility, where the geth attacked Ashley right at this moment—where she defended herself, alone, firing back at the relentless onslaught there, somehow holding her own when she should have been dead by now.

Sending me off, Kirrahe shared his dismal words, "I should have known it would come down to this. We relied on you too heavily. Commander Shepard's ruthlessness is second-to-none in this galaxy, especially when she covers it with a veneer of honor and dignity. Your leader is not worth this sacrifice."

"I am sorry, Captain," I repeated. "To me, Shepard is worth any sacrifice. You must understand."

"No, that won't be necessary," he insisted. "There is no need for me to _understand._ I will die out here, and your only course to retreat is to jump across these walls to the other side. We will both perish."

Kirrahe wasn't interested in anything else I had to say. Not really. He only cared to argue.

However callous this was, I didn't have time for this.

Stepping back, facing him, I said my final goodbyes: "Good luck, Captain Kirrahe. I wish you and your men a safe retreat, or an early victory. Whichever comes first."

He watched me go for a moment with eyes aggrieved, before leaving to defend his soldiers to the last; to die with them, inevitably, as they now had no way to escape the blast from the bomb.

Only once Kirrahe was a safe distance away did I run off, too.

Closer to the edge of this wall.

Closer to the drop of this fall.

Already winded from having expended so much of my energies thus far, I had to be careful.

But, aside from taking the long way around, and possibly dying to the geth on my own, this was my only option.

Nearly losing my nerve, I made up my mind about this—about the rest, about everything.

Activating my biotics for support, I took a few steps back first for the extra momentum.

Running forward, pushing myself forward: I jumped across this space.

Forcing my powers to aid in this extra floating, I defied what should have been impossible, improbable.

Landing _hard,_ I reached the other side. Rooting myself here with my biotics, I stood atop the wall, catching my breath. From here, I had a blocked view of the geth shooting in this direction, on the ground—blocked by these geothermal taps, I looked down directly below me for a better view:

There was Ashley, sitting upon the ground, there in the thin waters. Still alive. Still going.

Taking cover next to the taps, she protected the bomb with her body, firing her assault rifle at any geth who were about to near her. She gunned them down with a strained sort of ease, pushing herself, pushing herself. Pushing herself so much, that her left hand began to falter as she fired her weapon, needing to use her right hand more to compensate for her injuries. Her legs pelleted with gunfire, she could not stand back up, forced to continue sitting in place as she fought for her life.

As exhausted as I was, my biotic reserves dwindling, I had no choice but to do this.

I had once again run out of options, other paths…

My patience could hold no more.

I muted my radio, and pushed onward.

Floating downward, behind the geothermal taps, I soon reached the watery ground.

Hearing me, Ashley turned her head, spotting me here.

"Hey, Liara!" she called, forcing herself to not sound as winded as she was. "Glad you made it in time!"

Too focused on shooting the geth in front of her, Ashley could do no more than acknowledge me. Somehow, she began to fight harder, now, watching as I took a few steps ahead of these taps. She couldn't know how I had suddenly appeared here, but to her, it didn't matter—she had my extra support in this moment, and that was all that mattered to her.

Once she had destroyed the geth nearest to us, I stared down the others in the distance, the sheer number of them there.

Pushing my biotics even more, I extended my arms outward. Conjuring a protective field, I expanded the spherical bubble out as far as I could, past the large gates nearby. The field stopped all incoming fire from reaching us, keeping us shielded here—for as long as the rest of my powers could hold, at least.

Catching her breath, Ashley allowed her wounds to get the best of her. Safe now, her adrenaline began to wear off: she winced and grunted in pain. In that same adrenaline earlier, she had overestimated her odds when reassuring the others that she could hold the line here. I saw the truth for myself, how feeble she was now, how vulnerable she was now: no longer able to lift her rifle, the injuries in her arms and legs had left her defenseless. She relied on me completely for shelter, for security here in my bubble.

The geth outside my barrier continued to fire at us, pointlessly so. As tired and beaten down as I was, needing to restore my energies soon, I could hold on for this. I could certainly hold on for this.

I approached Ashley on the ground, staring down at her.

Still heaving for breath, she doubled over before me.

Bleeding out from her armor, her shields had at last failed her. They could recharge no more.

Bleeding out, but still holding.

She could indulge me in this conversation first.

Breathing a bit steadier now, Ashley mumbled, "Thanks… Didn't think you'd do something like this for me—you know, after what I did to you last night… I'm still sorry. But Shepard and the others are on their way back. And Joker…should be here soon with the ship. Think your barrier can hold until then…?"

That bomb ticking down beside her.

My own tolerances had ticked and ticked away already.

"Liara?" asked Ashley, finally looking up at me, so oblivious. "Hey, what's wrong? Are you worried about the bomb…? If you are, it's okay… We…we still have time… It'll be fine—"

I pulled my pistol from my hip.

Aiming my gun between her eyes, Ashley could but stare at me, staring up this span.

Trembling, disbelieving—no logic could reach her, no sense could reach her; no reactions; no defenses or fight-or-flight responses. All she could do…was sit there in that water, reddened in opacity by her blood. All she could do was look up at me like this, so small-minded and insignificant in the grand scheme of things.

She found this familiar, calm coldness in my eyes, and in my voice, deadened and done.

_Deadened and done._

"Ashley, I really don't know why you are this surprised. When we last spoke, I told you: when you next say another word to me, it will be _game over._ I was serious. I am not the type to bluff—not like you."

Stuttering in her powerlessness, "Y-You seriously _planned_ on doing this…?"

"Eventually, yes," I confirmed. "Now is the perfect time. I simply couldn't reach you in time. You died here on Virmire, fighting with honor. No one will think otherwise."

Defenses broken, still, Ashley could only express her horrified awe, "Demons really _do_ exist…"

"It doesn't matter what you wish to call me. You ought to know by now that I am past my limit. I am well beyond my tolerances with your audacity, your drama, your nerve and your _insolence._ You say things you do not mean, and you expect everyone to merely forgive you and move on. That isn't how it works. Not with me. Not with how far you overstepped, and how you are only destined to continue doing it."

"Liara… Liara, wait— _wait!_ I left you alone… I-I was going to keep my mouth shut, stop provoking you—"

"—you are a fool if you think I'll believe that. My patience has run out. The patience of a thousand years, all burned and destroyed because of your recklessness… I hope you are proud of yourself, _for once."_

As soon as I was about to shoot my pistol, Ashley scrambled to her last resort.

As injured as she was, she could only reach for her radio—

Ashley cried out in helpless agony, _"Shepard—!"_

Having expected this, I fired at her left arm, her omni-tool arm.

Blood-curdling, Ashley screamed out in her sharp, sudden pain, doubling over.

Gripping her arm with her already-broken hand, she rocked herself there, crying out more; nearly about to sob in her torture, her anguish, her distress. More blood leaving her open wound, more blood pooling down the dull shine of her armor as red and black—I had disabled her radio, getting it out of my way.

Shepard responded anyway, _"Ashley? Ashley! What happened? What's wrong?!"_ Ashley clearly could not answer; I remained quiet and on mute, watching and listening as she fought to keep from crying. _"What the hell is going on over there, Ash!? Answer me, goddamnit!"_

Terrified, Tali informed everyone, _"I'm not picking up Ashley's omni-tool on this frequency anymore… She could have been seriously injured! We should hurry!"_

Letting her emotions scrape through— _"Fuck!"_

Garrus encouraged her, _"Commander, you push on ahead! You're faster than the rest of us combined! We'll catch up to you and get to the rendezvous point!"_

" _What he said!"_ decided Wrex. _"Get moving, Shepard! Go get Chief and keep her safe!"_

Ashley could still hear them through my radio, through even the sounds of her pain, lessening now.

Hissing her breaths in and out, in and out, her body began to tremble in a barely-controlled rage.

Control, restraint—qualities she could have certainly benefitted from before.

But it was far too late.

"I see you are beginning to resist now," I pointed out. "I thought you were done with this game?"

Forcing herself to look up at me once more, glaring, Ashley snarled back, "This is some twisted idea you have of a _game,_ Liara… Kicking me while I'm already down. Using the situation to your advantage, like you'll _actually_ get away with it… If you honestly had all of this in you before, _last night,_ then I take back those fucking apologies I gave you."

I rolled my eyes. "Your apologies were empty and insincere regardless. I don't want or need them."

"Yeah, I know," sneered Ashley. "You only want and need Shepard—everyone else is expendable… I can't believe you'd do this to her. I can't _believe_ you're this damned selfish and psychotic!"

"Shepard will grieve over you, I am sure. But her grief will not be enough to stop the galaxy. Not for you. Not for someone so trivial, so childish and vindictive. And then, one day, she will move on."

"She'll NEVER take you back, you demon! _You monster!"_

"Whether she takes me back or not is irrelevant right now." Aiming at her head. "I just want you gone."

About to pull.

About to fire.

About to execute her, point-blank, straight through this broken defiance in Ashley's stare: her eyes enflamed by fear, dark brown as the burning cinders of her pride.

Through that shattering, I saw such an acute image: of Shepard somewhere in a dark bedroom, with loud music playing outside the door, beyond the walls. Wherever this was, Shepard had curled into herself, a bottle of our Sauvignon Blanc wine sitting on the nightstand nearby. Collapsed in on herself, sobbing uncontrollably, she suffered her own breaking, her heart breaking, heartbroken as she cried there.

Crying like this…over Ashley?

" _I trust you, Liara."_

…

Blasts of biotics from _outside_ my barrier brought my awareness back.

Turning to face this sudden threat, I extended my arms once more, pushing my energies, reinforcing.

Leaving myself vulnerable to Ashley behind me—it didn't matter, it didn't matter against this foe before us, because without me doing this, we _both_ would have died, and she knew this.

That skeletal face, turian scales of a deathly gray, and those blue eyes at once hollow and determined:

Saren was there, hovering around on some mechanical device beneath his feet; fighting to tear down my defenses.

When he realized I wouldn't let him do this, Saren stopped his efforts. Staying in place atop his device, the geth around him had stopped firing. Still he continued to leer at me through this near-transparent blue of my barriers. Protecting myself, _protecting Ashley_ from only the rain now: the skies had at last fallen in that emotion, giving in to the tragedy of the day.

"Such a waste, Dr. T'Soni," mocked Saren, calm and composed. "You have finally embraced your greatness, and yet you decided at the last minute to shun it again. I hope you are aware that you will get nowhere, should this continue… The hour of your irrelevance will never arrive, and you are rendered immune because of this. However, time is still precious. And you are only _wasting_ it."

Fighting harder to maintain this barrier, I fired back, "I have _nothing_ to say to you, Saren! Leave me be! You are only _wasting your time!"_

"Nonsense. Though I am pleased to see that your mother knew you well. Benezia had warned me well in advance that you would be uncooperative. It is a shame that you allowed her to die. Had you surrendered on Therum, she could have stayed alive. You and I could have achieved so much together!"

"You're insane if you believe for one moment that I would've gone along with your plans!"

Saren chuckled, arrogant. "Perhaps this is true," he allowed. "The Cipher you possess contains unquantifiable knowledge. You carry with you the Protheans' hopes and dreams, the generations of their experiences, their victories and their sacrifices—not only against the Reapers, but across all of their time, their entire evolution as a species! And _they_ are the only ones who came anywhere near success in their endeavors to resist Reaper indoctrination. Had they succeeded, they could have been useful!"

"Why do you care to be _useful_ to the Reapers?" I questioned. "They must be destroyed!"

"You are still misguided, I see," claimed Saren. "As incredible as your capabilities are, Liara, they cannot bring about the Reapers' destruction. Without a proper vessel, you can only resist their control. Nothing more. I have accepted this, and so should you. The Reapers' return is inevitable. And when they arrive, we will save more lives, more souls across this galaxy should we surrender, and submit to their rule. I needed you to ensure that I kept my mind in-tact during the invasion. You should have joined me."

"What, for you to _force me_ into giving you these capabilities of mine?"

"Absolutely. You are certainly beautiful, intelligent, accomplished. We would have made a wonderful pair: you by my side, safe within Sovereign's embrace, while still free from its indoctrination."

Revolted, I shouted at him, "That _isn't_ how it works! You could not force me, or anyone else into that arrangement! _You need consent!"_

Stunned, Saren only stared back at me, as if he had never considered such a thing.

He quickly collected himself, however, continuing on, "Regardless, I will find another way to maintain my awareness throughout the coming invasion. As our new leader, I will save more lives than have ever existed. Once we bow down to the Reapers, they will spare us." Saren spotted my contempt, and posed the mere hypothetical, "Is submission not preferable to extinction? Even you, Liara, have submitted to powers greater than yourself in your quest for salvation. The Conduit is the key to my own salvation. With it, I will ascend—and the offer will remain open, for you to join me, just as the geth have. After all, they view the Reapers as their god, as _their_ salvation. Are we not all survivors, out to save ourselves—?"

Grandstanding interrupted, I saw but a flash of energy snipe against his barriers.

And that snipe stopped there—unable to penetrate, unable to break Saren's protections.

That booming ricocheted across the area, sounds dulled beneath the pouring rain.

Up above, atop the high wall over the gate, Shepard had shot at Saren with her sniper rifle. Her shot had connected—right near his head—and yet her efforts could not breach him, could not get through.

Frustrated, she could only glare at him, unable to do anything else.

Saren scowled at her, before lifting off on his floating device once more. He escaped, leaving off to the distance, and taking his last geth with him. Timely, so very timely: he disappeared around the corner just as the _Normandy_ arrived, landing in hovering noise and length there before us, atop the body of water.

I dropped my barrier, trying to catch my breath.

Nearly spent, I somehow remained standing, the last of my kinetic barriers shielding me from the rain.

Shields glimmering in the same dry protections, Shepard vaulted over the wall. She dropped to the ground, to the water, her legs bending in that natural break of her fall. Running over here, she made eye contact with me—worried, terrified—finding that I was…fine. And so she set her hand over my shoulder, still keeping her momentum going as she hurried behind me.

Garrus, Wrex, and Tali emerged from the gate nearby, barely able to breathe from their sprint here.

Reaching Ashley now, Shepard knelt down to her with worries immeasurable.

Adrenaline dispensed, anger lost—Ashley had reverted back to that same, broken state. Moaning in pain; nearly about to cry as Shepard picked her up. Mild spills of blood falling from Ashley's body, mixed with the rainfall, Shepard paid it no mind. She didn't care, only caring about this one, singular thing: getting Ashley back aboard the ship, safely to the med bay. We all followed her to that end.

Following her, as the _Normandy_ took off, away from Virmire, bomb exploding—consequences unending.


	16. Rebellion

_"Significance" from NieR: Automata_

**XVI.** Rebellion

_(Liara)_

Loitering here in the med bay with everyone back on the _Normandy,_ I was as a chameleon, unobserved.

Blending here with the others, I watched as Shepard set Ashley down over one of the beds. Panic and worry concealed, Shepard hovered there as Dr. Chakwas proceeded to patch up the worst of Ashley's wounds, first, before anything else. She remained there, blocking my view. Still, I could at least hear the way Ashley breathed harder to keep herself from making a single pained noise. I could at least see the way her armor had been bulleted with punctures, bleeding out, but not for much longer.

Tali worked to control her emotions, knowing that Ashley would be just fine—physically.

Garrus kept his head lowered, likely thinking of what _we_ could've done to prevent this from happening.

Wrex sighed every so often, eyes distant with the memory of the mission, of all that had occurred.

I felt nothing. I emoted nothing. I gave away— _nothing._

Only this double-feeling of sensing Shepard's presence inside of me and outside of me, right where she was: I felt her as a repeat of reality itself, transposed somewhere in me, both within and without. I knew exactly what she felt; I knew exactly what she dealt with; I knew everything about her. Still unobstructed, and not a single scrap of suspicion toward me.

So naïve of her, really. She should have known better by now.

After some time, Ashley finally quieted, her breathing returned to normal, the bleeding stopped.

After that time, Dr. Chakwas spoke aloud, "You'll be just fine, Ashley. Take a moment to regain your bearings. You took quite the heavy beating out there. I believe your recent armor upgrades very well saved your life." She ran a scan with her omni-tool. "Hmm, it appears your own omni-tool still isn't coming back online. The damage is more severe than I thought. I'll need to consider some other alternatives. In the meantime, the worst of your wounds here in your arm will take another day or so to heal up."

At that, Ashley's breathing picked right back up again, yet in a way I couldn't discern—fear, anger, or a mix of both, parts of her breaths seemed to snarl out from her. Others trembled from her, quavering and near-uncontrollable.

Dr. Chakwas ran another scan. "Goodness…this isn't normal," she commented. "Shepard, would you mind stepping aside for a moment? Ashley's blood pressure and stress levels have shot through the roof. I may need to administer a sedative. That will have to be a last resort. I'll do what I can for her."

Wordless, Shepard moved away, backward, and facing Ashley as Dr. Chakwas carried on with her work.

Once she reached us, the others felt her grief, her regrets just as much as I did.

As ever, she did not let these show over her face. Everyone could sense them all the same.

Shepard had us step right outside the med bay, in the mess hall. Far enough away to give Ashley some space; near enough for Ashley to listen to our impromptu debriefing here.

She kept her tone matter-of-fact: "We destroyed Saren's base of operations. He won't be able to continue on with those insane experiments. Captain Kirrahe and his teams are dead. I'll figure out how to deal with that in my report later." Shepard knew that I already knew about Sovereign, about what it had said, and so there was no need for her to get into the details. "Liara, when you talked to Saren, did he mention anything about his next move? I only caught the very end of his damned speech."

"No, Commander, he did not," I replied. "Only that he is still focused on finding the Conduit."

"Figures," guessed Shepard. "Then we're at another dead-end."

Garrus remembered, "But what about the beacon? It must have given you another vision. Anything there that might help?"

"I did have another vision. Couldn't make much sense of it. It showed me a planet this time. The actual surface. I don't recognize it from anywhere."

I informed her, "I recognized the location. Many of the landmarks were familiar from my research."

Wrex asked, "Wait, how'd _you_ see it, too? This from that bond of yours?"

"Yes, that's right," I said. Shepard nodded, unsurprised. "Commander, the Conduit is on Ilos. It is within the Terminus Systems, through the Mu Relay. Now that we have the relay's location, we should be able to reach Ilos as well. I can give the vectors to Joker whenever you're ready."

Tali pointed out, "Getting there will be impossible, Liara. Alliance ships aren't allowed in the Terminus. We could start a war if we were to venture out there. Besides, Saren will have his geth fleets waiting for us. I trust the _Normandy's_ stealth drive to keep us safe, but I still worry about the odds."

Shepard concluded, "Odds or no odds, we have to get out there. We have to stop Saren. Otherwise, he gets his hands on the Conduit, and the Reapers will come back to destroy the galaxy." She then made up her mind: "We need to get to the Citadel. Talk to the Council directly. If they won't listen to reason, then we'll come up with another plan. Either way, we're going to Ilos. _No matter what._ Understood?"

Everyone nodded, giving their affirmative.

"I'll go plot a course to the Citadel on the galaxy map. Considering how far out we are, it'll be another overnight trip. Get some food and some rest. It's time to move forward now. Dismissed."

Overnight without night, while everyone aboard the _Normandy_ slept on, I remained in the med bay.

My room was right there, certainly. Right beside me from where I stood, leaning against this wall, directly across from the one holding my focus, my attention, unblinking:

I watched Ashley as she slept, after having received that sedative from Dr. Chakwas some hours ago.

Dr. Chakwas had decided that she did not have the proper facilities to get Ashley's omni-tool back online. Not here in the ship's medical bay. And so, once we arrived at the Citadel, she would need Ashley to accompany her to the Huerta Memorial Hospital there, to use their facilities instead. I presumed that Shepard would join them as well. Once that was done, we would all leave to the Citadel Tower in order to meet the Council, and to ask for their permission to pursue Saren on Ilos.

I worried about Saren's geth fleets.

I worried that the Council would not be willing to send a fleet to Ilos in response.

I worried that the Council would not allow us to leave to the Terminus Systems at all, and that they would refuse to believe us about the Reapers, despite the evidence Shepard had collected on Virmire.

More than that, I found myself placated by this conundrum in front of me:

I could have suffocated Ashley at any moment.

I could have used the med bay's equipment to administer any harmful item to her by now.

I could have, yet I chose not to—for the same crippling reasons that had stopped me before, only with the added weight of my responsibilities, and my undoubtable culpability.

I could only continue watching Ashley as she rested, still in her armor, sleeping soundly over her back. I watched the way her chest moved up and down in that sound rhythm. I watched the way her hair spilled out behind her in neatness, if only because of the quality of her cut, mired only by her forced-exhaustion. I watched the way the soft light of the med bay glowed over her now-spotless face, calming in a gentle brightness of blue. I watched the way her face remained illuminated in such a peaceable expression, as if she dreamed only the most wonderful of dreams, so far-removed from reality. I watched the way her lips parted, ever-so-slight, as she breathed through her mouth: steady and reliable.

Here at her most vulnerable in her sleep, I sensed Ashley's thoughts and emotions, all as unconscious as she was. Siphoned through my bond with Shepard, I could pull at these things that I had only seen hints of before today, before this very moment. Such a mess of weaknesses, broken and bloodied from pushing herself, constantly pushing herself to extremes over the years, only to end up with nothing: I saw this lens she viewed Shepard through, as an ideal to aspire to, as the end-all-be-all.

Even more so, these painful memories of hers attempted to compensate for her habits, so sickening.

A complete package of unjustified justifications: Ashley existed as the pinnacle of Shepard's revilements.

And Ashley believed in this religion, of this idea of herself, of how she existed now with Shepard's validation and approval. Such a wall she maintained of boldness and bravado to hide how pathetic she was, how small and insignificant she truly was in this galaxy. Yet without that wall, she was but a shell of a person, damaged and disgusted with herself. Sick of mind, sick of heart, Ashley made up a microcosm of flaws and flawed excuses, all shut behind an _attractive_ face and body, a sharp mind and a sharper attitude. Layers and layers of lies, she remained in denial of the worst aspects of herself.

Only for that brief time when she had looked at herself in the mirror had Ashley taken her true self in.

But only briefly. Only for that brief, short time.

The stroke of her intuition, consciousness returning: Ashley began to stir, forcing herself awake. She had sensed me here—or rather, _something_ —and a chill ran down her spine. As she shivered in that chill, her eyes found mine boring into hers. Ashley quaked in place there over that bed, startled back into reality. Shaking, shallow breaths, she stared back at me with her barely-masked fears, again trying to cover it all up, cover it all up out of habit.

This wall of hers was the only thing keeping her truths from spilling out—foul, hazardous, and toxic.

Still, through that poison, we found our silent agreement here:

I could do nothing to her, and she could do nothing to me, for obvious reasons.

Otherwise, we risked far too much.

"Good morning, Ashley," I greeted, as hollow as her substance. "Though I suppose it isn't quite dawn yet, in solar hours. Only four in the morning. It would be strange to say _good evening_ instead, wouldn't it?" Sucking in those trembling breaths of hers, Ashley could but stare and stare. "Surely you must realize that I am shackled at this point. There is no need for you to fear me. Not anymore. Not unless you are unable to control yourself going forward. Though somehow I doubt you will succeed."

Shuddering now, as if freezing cold, Ashley needed to know, "What do you want…? What the _hell_ do you still want with me? Haven't you done enough? How long have you been standing there for?!"

"A few hours now," I told her. "After all, you know how very patient I am, don't you? Once again, this should not come as a surprise." Ashley balled her fists in a powerful grip, finding more of her restraint, her control. "We should have one more talk, Ashley. One final conversation. Whatever happens afterward will solely depend on you. I believe that's fair."

Holding back more—perhaps too much—Ashley could only lie there.

Staring up at the ceiling now, she vacillated between her fears and her anger both, back and forth, back and forth, pushing and pulling, pushing and pulling between one another over and over again. Feeling her emotions in this wordless exchange, I sensed her overwhelming dread, of how trapped she was in this situation with me. She felt that Shepard would never take her side over this. She felt that Shepard would never accept or believe the truth of what I had done, of what had brought me to that brink.

Begrudging herself, Ashley accepted her own responsibilities: for she knew, if she dared to tell Shepard about any of this, she would need to explain the whole story. She would need to explain her part in it, my part in it: the choices and consequences, the causes and effects.

Her part in this story would make her look terrible in Shepard's eyes.

Her part in this tale of ours would change Shepard's feelings toward her—or so she believed.

That belief was enough.

More than enough, we both heard the sounds of someone walking outside, through the mess hall. Less walking and more stomping in softness, stumbling slightly: whoever was out there sounded less-than-lucid, mumbling and grumbling to themselves in a half-waking, half-sleeping sleepwalk. They did not come anywhere near the med bay, instead choosing to head to the kitchen. Vague sounds of the refrigerator opening and utensils clicking and moving around: that person was clearly preoccupied.

They would not disturb this conversation here.

Ashley admonished me with her half-broken pride, "Say what you have to say to me, creep."

Quite the tame insult from her, all things considered.

And so I explained, "You understand that it is in both of our interests to keep this quiet. No one would believe what happened, let alone _her._ So why risk it? We ought to bury this now. Don't you agree?"

Defiance through the terrors unraveling her voice—"Oh, don't worry. I'm taking this to the grave."

"As will I. But, as I said, this is contingent on you. If you push me again, I will not hold back next time."

"I have nothing else to say to you," claimed Ashley, still shaking. "There's no _risk_ that way."

"Hardly," I pointed out. "Even _if_ you and I never speak to one another again outside of the mission, you must see that it is still possible: you are fully capable of crossing a line with me again. It is bound to happen once more. Knowing how you are, I cannot help but feel that this is…unavoidable." I sensed that Ashley knew what I meant—she swallowed the salted air in her throat, souring over her truths. _"When_ you hurt her beyond repair, I will know. And _when_ this happens, we will see what becomes of you."

Trying to compensate, trying to compensate: "You don't know shit, Liara… _You don't._ There's no way!"

"Ashley, there is no need for these foolish lies of yours," I scolded. "It is the same with Shepard—through her, I understand you completely. She may not be able to see you with this mental eye of mine, but I can. I know your every thought, your every emotion, your intentions… You cannot hide from me."

Discarding that useless pride of hers at last, Ashley could only keep her eyes fixed to the ceiling.

Avoiding me.

Trying to escape, trying to hide from me in plain sight; exposed as the frightened fraud she truly was.

"For the time being, I will continue to be patient," I went on. "You and I will not speak again unless absolutely necessary. But I will be watching you. And when you hurt her in this inevitable way, she will end your relationship regardless of what she still feels in her heart—I guarantee you. Once that happens, you won't matter to her anymore."

Ashley knew that I was right.

Ashley knew that everything I said was perfectly possible, inevitable.

Ashley also knew that she was too stubborn to run away at this point, running directly into the sun itself.

"Whether you suffer alive or die in agony, Shepard will not care. Nothing will hold me back anymore—unless she deals with you herself, that is. Either way, I will be satisfied, and we can all finally move on."

Running right into her own destruction, all because she was too hard-headed, too selfish to turn back.

Ashley nearly whimpered over the raw truth of the matter, so undeniable. Almost a whimper, but not quite. The low, child-like pitch I heard through her throat was enough. Close enough for my needs.

_So weak._

_So vulnerable._

Making a point, I stepped toward her.

Standing beside her now, looking down at her once again.

Unable to keep her fists still, Ashley grabbed at her hands, nearly crushing the cartilage there beneath the gloves of her armor. Forcing herself to remain still, she could not meet my eyes. Even as I loomed here over her, she would not look at me, would not look at me.

"Ashley, I see what you are capable of," I warned. "Perhaps by accident, but it is possible. I will caution you against it nonetheless. With how _close_ she and I are from our bond that you dared to call meaningless, I know enough of how this feels… You ripped her from my arms with your callous words." She knew—whether Ashley truly had this potential in her or not, _she knew;_ her eyes welled in this sea of my meaning: "I am aware of your tastes for _risks_ with unprotected sex with her. More importantly, I know of your _sweet and innocent_ dreams of giving Shepard a family someday down the line. Should you decide to use this as an excuse to entrap her, pulling at her sense of responsibility, her obligation, and her honor toward you as the mother of her children, then that would be…a grave mistake."

Leaning down to her, more, I watched as Ashley struggled her hardest not to sob in front of me, as trapped as she was in her own mind, paralyzed by these prospects. She could see it, she could visualize it all—everything I had said, and the rest of what I had no need to articulate directly.

Feeding off of what I felt from Ashley already, I allowed myself to stand properly once more.

Finally having told her what I'd wanted to say that night in my hotel room, wordless as the rest was, I let myself have this release.

Even though my release came at her expense, twisting this knife through her heart, I didn't care.

These last words to her: "Of course, you are free to give up and forfeit. Give up on her, if it would be easier. If you truly believe it would save you from that inescapable pain. Still, I know you are far too hard-headed and selfish to do such a thing. For me, that is perfectly fine. So try not to cry too much—otherwise _someone_ will notice, and you will not have any truthful answers to give. Good night, Ashley…"

I left to my room just nearby, leaving Ashley to her efforts to restrain herself, to stop those tears from falling. I left her to fester in her own flaws, all of them drowning her in heat, burning her as lava—burning her as she had done to me before. No more would I tolerate her behavior, so inexcusable. No more would I dwell on the impossible answers as to how and why Shepard could love someone so vile, petulant, expectant and demanding and downright unfair—even _enjoying_ her unfairness, seeing Ashley's expectations and demands as some twisted, romantic ideal to strive toward.

Still, none of that mattered anymore. I had accomplished what I'd set out to do. Ashley would remain paralyzed like this going forward, her mind and her heart stuck in this grip of mine. Gripping her in this way, I allowed myself to remain satisfied. Such satisfaction at long last instead of running away in fear.

Locking my door, I soon fell asleep, finally at peace with myself, with my justifications after all this time.

* * *

_(Shepard)_

Intuition burning me out of my dreamless sleep—I sat up in bed, half-awake, half-asleep, worried now.

I had forced myself to rest hours ago with these same worries, only a little bit different. But after Dr. Chakwas had pretty much banned me from the med bay earlier to let Ashley get some sleep, I hadn't had a choice except to come up here to my room. Of course I'd wanted to stay. Of course I'd wanted to make sure that Ashley was all right, even after Dr. Chakwas had sedated her. After that whole ordeal on Virmire, I knew it had brought up terrible memories for her of the 212 on Eden Prime. I understood that.

Ashley was strong—she'd recover soon. She'd bounce back like before, like always.

Was that all, though?

Was this _just_ about her sole survivor trauma over her old 212 unit?

I wasn't sure if it was. I couldn't help this feeling that something else was wrong. Terribly wrong.

Getting out of bed, I changed into my casual Alliance blues, and then went to my bathroom to wash the sleep from off of me. The whole time, I felt this seismic rumbling deep in my core, errant and unsatisfied. Like I couldn't stand being alone here without knowing if Ashley was all right. Like I couldn't even take care of myself unless I knew for certain that _she_ was taken care of first.

I had such a difficult time breathing properly, not knowing for certain that she was okay.

I knew she was here on the ship. I knew she was in the med bay.

But without seeing her, without having her next to me, this anxiety continued to plague me.

I left my room with this anxiety, taking the elevator down to the crew deck.

The silence of the _Normandy_ at this hour comforted me a bit. I could think clearly to myself, wondering what else could've been wrong with Ashley, aside from the obvious. I couldn't come up with anything definitive, aside from her natural concerns over Liara's role in my life and in this possible upcoming war. And yet I didn't let myself linger on that possible answer, if only because it didn't make sense. I thought that we had already found our peace with that. I thought that we had talked this over, and that Ashley had accepted things for what they were. I thought that we had found our own compromise, agreeing to stay together unless and until we absolutely couldn't anymore.

Because unless I had hallucinated that conversation we'd had yesterday during the mission, Ashley had no reason to worry about this.

So there had to be something else going on.

I remembered that she'd been really reserved right before the mission, too. Despite her mood improving midway through the operation, I couldn't forget how quiet she was before.

For all of Ashley's talk of trusting me, I definitely didn't feel like she did.

At least not enough to open up to me about the things that mattered most.

But I had to stop myself there. I couldn't be selfish like this, blaming Ashley for her own problems, and for not talking to me about them. I had to respect her space: there were some things she needed to deal with on her own, outside of me. She had to know that I was of course here to help if she needed me.

Maybe I just had to be patient for her first. And then she'd come around. I could do that for her.

Leaving the elevator, I crossed through the mess hall over to the med bay. I stopped about halfway once I heard someone in the kitchen. Someone grumbling and mumbling incoherently to themselves, while searching around in the cabinets for food: I saw Wrex there by himself, looking _out of it_ as he navigated the kitchen on auto-pilot. He moved and handled objects in the kitchen as if he was perfectly awake. But from his nonsensical babbling and the lack of focus in his eyes, I could tell he must've been sleepwalking or something. And whatever he was busy talking to himself about, it sounded pretty serious.

I guessed since he had stopped drinking now, this was his next expression of his own worries.

It didn't look like he was in any danger of hurting himself in there.

Concerned for Wrex, I decided to leave him be, at least for now. I could keep listening to his activity from the med bay.

Through to this calming room filled with medical equipment, I found Ashley lying down in the same bed from earlier. Relieved that her wounds had closed, and that she was awake now, I walked over to her. Lightened in my relief, I let myself smile at her. Even when I saw this hardened mix of anger and anguish in her face, still so beautiful, I had to keep smiling. Not for me. For her instead, so that she could know that I was here, and that I supported her.

Caught up in her thoughts, Ashley took a while to notice me at her bedside.

Standing here, I held her hand closest to me, caressing the red-and-black material of her gloves.

Ashley was aware of me now, but she wouldn't meet my eyes. She kept staring up at the ceiling. Staring there, as if that surface held some type of answers for her. Staring there, as if looking at something or someone far beyond this room for hope and for guidance. Staring there, as if needing answers to these problems that continued to make her feel so trivial, so expendable compared to everything else.

I didn't necessarily want to interrupt her praying, but I at least wanted her to know that I was _here._

"Ash," I tried. "I can tell you have a lot on your mind. You don't have to say anything to me if you don't want to." Ashley took a deep breath, acknowledging me that way. "After you fell asleep, I wanted to stay here with you. Trust me, _I wanted to._ Dr. Chakwas told me I should leave, get some rest. That's the only reason why I didn't stay. Something tells me I should've found a way anyway. I'm sorry."

She said nothing.

Through her eyes, I saw the way she kept grasping with her own perceived insignificance, on a much greater level than she had done back on Virmire. More than feeling small, expendable—I could see how powerless she felt. Powerless, trapped, weak: as much as she continued to remain here in this bed, she seemed trapped in her own mind in this same continuation, all as one giant continuum of perceptions.

It was like my words barely reached her.

Still holding Ashley's hand, I sat down on the bed, turning to face her as much as I could.

For as sharp as my intuition was, I wished I could've read Ashley's mind, knowing her right away instead.

"Do you want to talk about it?" I offered. "Whatever's bothering you, I'm here to listen. You know that."

This time, Ashley took a shuddering breath.

And still, she said nothing.

Her silence this time almost bruised me—until Ashley surprised me, moving aside, moving closer to the edge of the bed opposite me. She left enough space on this side for me to lie down with her. Intending as much, she finally found my eyes with hers in a quieted begging. So much longing there in her stare. She knew I couldn't resist. She knew that I needed this longing from her, if nothing else. She knew that I wanted her to talk to me, and that I needed to know what was wrong, yet this was all she could give me.

Accepting her needs, her reluctances, I lay down beside her. Halved on this bed as we were, we shouldn't have had enough room to do this. I didn't take up that much space. And Ashley found a way to compensate: she turned over to me, hiding her face against my neck, my chest, letting me hold her like this. Riddled with anxiety again, I held onto her as tightly as she gripped me, matching her strength, her need—because I realized now just how much I needed her to need me like this.

I stayed with Ashley like this for the longest: feeling her breaths, steady and normal; feeling her against me like this, her grip persisting even after she fell back asleep, like she never wanted me to let her go; feeling my heart break in my own powerlessness, over not being able to fix whatever was wrong. So I willed myself to stay awake, if it would somehow help me come up with a solution. I knew that it wouldn't. I could only fool myself into thinking that it would, at least for the time being.

As I lay here with Ashley, I kept looking to the nearby red light along the wall.

The door controls next to Liara's door, next to her room.

Red, locked. Disallowing anyone or anything from passing through to her space, her hideout.

Each time I found that light with my eyes, I glared at it so hard, sharp with my senses unconscious.

* * *

By the time we had nearly reached the Citadel, I'd made up my mind:

I wouldn't let Ashley out of my sight. Not unless absolutely necessary.

Or at least not until she seemed to get back to her usual self. And even then, I couldn't trust that something else would happen again, beyond my perception; and that she wouldn't tell me about it, whether it was to protect me from the truth or out of whatever shame she may have felt over the issue.

Ashley had become more than my heart in this near-literal sense. The veined connectors within me, keeping my blood pumping as hard and as hot as it did: they felt like her, so much like her. Every place in me that needed these connections, veins running through me in need: they felt like Ashley, tasting so much like the way she needed me, unspoken and interpreted. For as much as I could look at my arm and see that green there beneath the shade of my complexion, I needed to be able to do the same with her. And for as much as I could touch my wrist or my neck, feeling my pulse there, I needed to be able to reach out and do the exact same with her, all as an extension, this mirror of what I couldn't live without.

After making sure she got something to eat—which wasn't much, considering her lack of appetite—I followed Ashley to her room. Being here in real life for the second time, I found that her space was much cleaner than during our dream. Not ultra-sterilized like the last time, but still giving off a sense of belonging: neater stacks of her many poetry books and datapads; that bouquet of everlasting roses I had given her, scenting the room in a crisp, heady aroma.

I linked Ashley's holo-closet to mine in my room.

I collected the other essential things she needed to bring along: her private terminal and a few of those datapads.

I didn't want her to be in here by herself without me. I didn't want to leave her alone, again—not for anything, not unless I knew she would be all right.

I brought Ashley with me to my private quarters, and gave her official access to come up here whenever she wanted. Speaking only once, here, she did thank me for doing this. Getting to hear her voice again more than made up for everything else.

I had her take a shower in my bathroom without me. If I joined her, I already knew what I would fall into, unable to control myself.

While she did that, I set up her private terminal next to mine, over my desk, keeping her datapads here.

Since the Citadel was our next stop, I changed into my stealth suit, and tied my hair up into my tight tail at the center-back of my head, out of the way. I hadn't forgotten that Liara still had some of her clothes here in my holo-closet. I just changed the designation from her name to a series of binary numbers. I had already found an extra virtual space for Ashley's things far enough away from this one.

I then went to sit on my couch, bringing Ashley's damaged set of heavy armor with me. Meticulous in care, I used most of the omni-gel I had to patch up the holes from her wounds. I did this as I listened to the sounds of the shower, those noises shifting in movement whenever Ashley moved, especially the rinse of her hair whenever she forced those thicker gatherings of water to fall down below. And I did this as I thought over this situation again and again, my mind restless with this shifting of my priorities.

I knew that Ashley didn't need me to save her.

I knew that Ashley didn't need me to be her knight in shining armor—as if I ever could in the first place.

As prideful as she was, I knew that she didn't necessarily need my _help—_

Still, I couldn't fight this feeling that I had made the right choice in helping her anyway, as much as possible like this. Or maybe not helping her. Just keeping her close to me.

I kept Ashley closer once we left the _Normandy_ with the team and Dr. Chakwas, heading down the elevator from the docking bay to the C-Sec Academy. I made sure to hold her hand, not caring who saw.

During this damned elevator ride, I tuned out the dull, obnoxious music playing over the speakers, doing my best to focus on Ashley's hand in mine. Tali, Garrus, and Wrex seemed normal enough, talking with Dr. Chakwas about her plans to stay at the hospital with her colleagues during our meeting with the Council. Liara was quiet as usual, paying enough attention to the conversation without chiming in herself. Her aggression from yesterday had blunted out, dimming to this calm silence of hers that I was used to. And during the off-chances when we did make eye contact, her eyes warmed a bit without her needing to outright smile at me. So I supposed she was fine after the mission, after everything. I could accept that and let her be.

Escaping the elevator at last, we reached the rapid transit panel here at C-Sec. Turian and human guards and officers walking around everywhere in their uniforms, I had kind of missed this place from the last time we'd been here the other week. These cherry trees decorated the view in another sense of calm, the aesthetic undeniable in its beauty. That pink and violet contrasted with the blue ambiance so nicely, making the bright lights seem brighter, the open spaces look wider, and the crowded areas feel denser.

After I sent the others to the Presidium to wait for us there, I took another rapid transit car with Ashley and Dr. Chakwas to the Huerta Memorial Hospital, also on the Presidium. Somehow, Dr. Chakwas knew to stay quiet during the ride, choosing not to engage us in any small-talk.

I realized that anyone else at the hospital could have helped Ashley with this: walk-in, no appointment.

I appreciated that Dr. Chakwas cared enough to do this on her own, needing to know for herself that Ashley would be fully operational again.

Once we made it to Huerta Memorial, I wasn't surprised that Ashley and I had attracted a horde of staring observers throughout this sterile space, as was typical by now. The receptionist behind the counter, the visitors standing and sitting by the tall picture windows at either side of the building overlooking the Presidium, and everyone else loitering around here in the entry area: they all knew who I was, and they knew who Ashley was, too. Whether they were shocked or intrigued, it didn't matter.

If the news hadn't spread around while I'd held Ashley's hand on the Alliance base, then it was bound to take the galaxy by storm now.

I couldn't care about that, glad that Ashley hadn't removed her hand from mine out of embarrassment.

I wasn't sure if she had told her family yet. They would know soon enough if they hadn't already.

Off in a smaller room filled with various types of medical equipment, Dr. Chakwas had Ashley sit down in one of the chairs here. Still a little too on-edge to sit down myself, I folded my arms and leaned against the wall nearby. Staring out the windows with a wonderful view of the Presidium's still-lake, the artificial clouds and daylight from the blue sky above, and the skycars zipping across in between there, I waited as Dr. Chakwas used the equipment here to get Ashley's omni-tool back online. It didn't take long at all—soon I saw that familiar orange glowing over her hand down her forearm, back to normal again.

"There!" said Dr. Chakwas. "You're as good as new. Let me just do what I can here to strengthen the connectors, to make sure nothing like this can happen again…"

Ashley managed to say, "Thanks, Dr. Chakwas. I appreciate all the help."

"Of course, Ashley," she replied, smiling for her. "That's what I'm here for. You know that." Dr. Chakwas finished up with Ashley's omni-tool, before using her own to run one last scan. "The medi-gel has healed your wounds, including the worst one in your arm. You will have some soreness there for a while, but it shouldn't keep you out of combat. And your diagnostics appear to be clean—much cleaner than they were before. Perhaps all you needed was a good night's sleep in a certain someone's arms after all."

Face reddening in a mild awkwardness, Ashley only nodded her agreement.

Dr. Chakwas laughed a bit. "All right, all right—no more teasing from me," she allowed. "I'll let the two of you get to your meeting with the Council. As I told the others earlier, I will be here visiting with a few of my colleagues until it is time for us to return the ship. I do hope you're able to convince the Council to our cause. If not, I'm sure you'll be able to find some type of alternative."

"Hopefully, yeah," I reinforced. "I'll call you once we're done here. We'll see you later, then."

"Take care, Commander. And you as well, Ashley."

We watched Dr. Chakwas leave the room, leaving us to this silence.

Only the vague, gentle sounds of the Presidium's skycars passing through the winds reached us here.

I regarded Ashley with that same gentleness, though not at all vague. She continued to sit there in that chair, well-aware of this look in my eyes, even if she wouldn't return my gaze. She had to know that I was glad: that she would be all right, and that she would recover from all of this—at least physically.

Ashley's emotions and her mental state weren't quite there yet. I doubted that they would catch up any time soon. Still, I thought of a way to help with that, even if it was only temporary.

Knowing that she wouldn't say anything first, either, I crossed this short distance between us.

I held my hand out to her, asking, "You ready to go?"

Ashley set her gloved hand over my palm, letting me help her stand up.

She finally looked at me, giving off this strong aura, like she wanted to say something, anything.

By the guilt in her expression, I understood that she felt bad for being so quiet with me all this time.

"Save it for now," I guided. "Before we meet with the Council, there's someplace I want to take you first. A little date here on the Presidium, at least compared to what we got up to back home. You up for it?"

Bright as a halved, flamed sun at dusk over the horizon, Ashley gave me a half-smile that spoke so much.

I smiled right back, before leading her out of the hospital with me.

Impervious to everyone's staring this time, Ashley and I ambled along the Presidium in a more comfortable silence. These pearl white walkways felt far more nostalgic to me now, considering the sheer contrast of how things were when I had first come here with Ashley months ago. When we had walked along these bridges and these paths before, I was so closed-off back then. When I had first stared into this still-lake beside us, finding her reflection there with mine, I had fooled myself into believing that she wasn't as beautiful as she was today. And when these stately buildings everywhere had first housed us together—the human embassy, the café beyond there, and the many upscale shops here by this lake—I could never let myself imagine that I would be back here someday with her like this.

I had made those knee-jerk assumptions about Ashley to protect myself, and we'd both paid the price.

But now the whole of the Presidium and the Citadel itself saw that we were together now.

Still fraught with her troubles, Ashley wasn't entirely the same yet, wasn't entirely normal or back to her usual self. Any progress was good progress in my eyes, and so I couldn't fault her for whatever else continued to linger on her mind and in her heart. She needed more time. I couldn't mind that.

Here next to the lake, and not too far from the inactive mass relay on display, I brought Ashley to this outdoor ice cream shop.

She had noticed it on the way here, also spotting the many politicians, dignitaries, and regular Citadel visitors walking by with their own ice cream cones and 'grown-up' chocolate popsicles. Smiling more in her gratitude, even if it was just for now, Ashley let me order something for us. I'd picked up on the way she'd had her eye on those popsicles, so I bought one for her and one for me.

We sat together at an all-white table right by the water, eating these popsicles at an easy pace: coated with milk chocolate as the exterior, filled with rich almonds and softer vanilla ice cream. Sitting side-by-side, our backs to the passing crowds a safe distance away, Ashley and I faced the lake, staring out at that blue as we ate. I let her enjoy this moment with me for as long as possible, not wanting to ruin the mood with my questions, my concerns. But for as serene as she was with me, I still couldn't help worrying about her, especially once I figured out how to approach this topic.

Ashley only lied or kept things from me when she thought I wouldn't approve.

When she thought I wouldn't take her side; when she thought I wouldn't believe her.

Or when she thought she needed to protect herself somehow, whether it was related to me or not.

I felt that it was my responsibility to set the record straight now, setting my own reservations aside. Her security with me was more important than my limits and tolerances.

Once Ashley leaned against my shoulder, warming me to my core, I knew that the time was right.

So I told her, "Babe, I know there's something else going on with you. And I'm not going to force you to tell me what it is. I can't do that. But I won't just stay quiet about this. Hear me out, please." Ashley of course wouldn't acknowledge if I was correct or not; she leaned more of her weight over me, listening in trust. "I need you to understand: whatever happened, and whatever happens in the future…as long as you're honest with me, and you give me all the details, I'm going to take your side. No matter what."

Still staying over my shoulder, Ashley angled her head to stare up at me in a soft surprise.

I met her eyes with my own in seriousness, holding her here, holding her gorgeous gaze with me.

"I remember what I told you before," I continued on. "About my deal-breaker. About how I can't stand injustice, unfairness. With you, the only thing that would feel unfair is if you lie to me. If you try to keep things from me. If you act like I won't care enough to notice what's up with you. Even if I can't articulate whatever it is, I always _know._ I see you, Ash—all the time. I can't look away from you. _Ever."_

Accepting my words, Ashley nodded to me.

"I'd like you to share this with me at some point. Obviously not now. Whenever you're ready. Okay?"

Stalling a bit, she asked, "Is there a time limit on this?"

"None," I permitted. "Like I said, I only want you to tell me when you're ready. Doesn't matter how long it takes. And I'll say it again— _you_ are my heart. I want to take care of you. I can't do that properly without enough information. As long as you know that, I'm fine with waiting."

Even though she likely had no intentions of ever telling me, she still said, "Okay, Shepard. Thanks…"

Whatever Ashley chose to do in the end, simply having her acknowledgement was a godsend after everything—after I'd almost lost her. She knew that I cared. She knew that I loved her. That was enough.

* * *

Back at the Citadel Tower after these months, at the Council Chamber before the asari councilor, the turian councilor, and the salarian councilor, I'd had a strong feeling about how this meeting would go. Not even this lingering beauty of our surroundings could make up for anything. And though I'd missed this autumn-like atmosphere in these warm colors everywhere, rising up the tower, with these cherry trees with leaves of pink and violet instead of red and brown, it just wasn't the same anymore. Not at all the same, not with the Council giving us the run-around, despite presenting them with this evidence about Sovereign, about the Reapers, about Saren's plan to bring them all back— _everything._

Defeatism almost overtook me as the team watched from a safe distance away along this platform, with Ambassador Udina and Captain Anderson here by my side.

These councilors were politicians, and politicians hated _taking risks,_ but I still couldn't believe they were this thick, this reluctant, and this fucking stupid.

Udina tried to patronize me, "Shepard, we must focus on _Saren,_ not this fairy tale you've conjured up about the Reapers. The Council cannot take action against some children's story. We can only prepare against the known threat, against Saren himself."

And Anderson tried to intervene, "Udina, you have to know that this isn't enough—!"

The asari councilor interjected, "The ambassador is correct. If Saren is foolish enough to attack the Citadel—as you believe—we will be ready for him. Anything more is beyond our control."

The turian councilor said, "Patrols are stationed at every mass relay linking Citadel space to the Terminus Systems. We _will_ be ready."

As pointless as this was, I fought back anyway, "You seriously think a _blockade's_ going to stop him? Saren's on Ilos looking for the Conduit right now! If you won't do anything about the Reapers, then what do you plan on doing about _this?"_

The salarian councilor lectured, "Ilos is only accessible through the Mu Relay, deep inside the Terminus Systems, Commander. If we send a fleet in there, the only possible outcome is full-scale war."

"Now is the time for discretion, Commander," patronized Udina, _again._ "Saren's greatest weapon was secrecy. Exposed, he is no longer a threat. This is over."

I snarled at him, "Damnit, Udina, if Saren finds the Conduit, we're all screwed! We have to go to Ilos!"

The turian councilor was all too kind to point out, "Ambassador Udina, I get the sense Commander Shepard isn't willing to let this go."

Udina went on, "There are serious political implications here, Shepard. Humanity's made great gains thanks to you. But now you're becoming more trouble than you're worth."

Anderson stood up for me: "You've gone too far, Udina! You'd sell the commander out over this? And for what? Is this _really_ how you want to burn your bridges with her, of all people? After everything she's done for us!"

"It's just politics, Captain," claimed Udina. "As for Shepard, she has done her job, and now I must do mine. We've locked out all the _Normandy's_ primary systems. Until further notice, you're grounded."

"Nobody stabs me in the back, Udina," I warned. _"Nobody."_

"I think it's time for you and your team to leave, Commander. You as well, Captain Anderson. This no longer concerns either of you. The Council can handle this. With my help, of course."

Fuming to high hell and back, I forced myself to walk away.

Anderson followed me back to the team at the other end of the platform.

I almost wanted to be pissed at him, too, since he should've known about Udina's plans. He should've warned me in that case. But I could see the innocence in Anderson's face, in how blindsided he was, too. He'd had no prior notice about any of this. Just another case of Udina being power-hungry, kissing the Council's ass for any scrap of leftovers off of the political table in front of him.

We moved far enough away, first, with Ashley, Garrus, Liara, Wrex, and Tali following after us.

The only reason my team didn't look defeated was because they believed in me—they believed in Anderson, too, knowing that we would find a way to push forward.

Secluded here near the stairs, Anderson apologized, "I'm sorry about all this… I honestly had no idea Udina would stoop this low. I figured he'd do it eventually, but to throw you under the bus like this—it takes a special kind of selfish to pull this off. I should have figured it out myself, told you ahead of time."

"There's no way you could've known," I rationalized. "It isn't your fault, Captain. But we really need to come up with another plan here. We can't afford to give up now."

"I know, Commander," agreed Anderson. "Believe me, we're on the same page here. If you don't get to Ilos, then the galaxy as we know it is done for. I promise I'll come up with a plan soon to get the _Normandy_ back in your hands. Stick around on the Citadel for now. Once I've figured something out, I'll send you an email. We can meet at Flux, that club down on the Wards. Should be loud enough to have a private conversation there without drawing suspicion."

I let myself relax, for now, believing in him. "Sounds good, Anderson. I appreciate it."

"Of course, Shepard. I'll be in touch shortly."

Shortly, as I let myself believe, too, I took the team with me to the Upper Wards where Flux was.

After taking the rapid transit here, we found a bunch of people gathered around not too far from Flux's entrance. Protesting here in this wide indoor area, it sounded like they were from that extremist Terra Firma political party: human supremacists who hated 'alien sympathizers', and who believed we as humans needed to find our way in the galaxy alone. The protestors kept yelling shit like— _"Remember Shanxi!"_ and _"No blood for aliens!"_ —making it clear where they stood. They had close ties to Cerberus, which was no surprise—and it was yet another reason to stay the hell away from both groups.

Since we had a bit of time, the rest of the team wandered off, still staying in this general area, but far enough away from the damned protests going on.

I stayed with Ashley, standing here with her by this scenic view of the rest of the Wards in the distance, and the Citadel's artificial sun up above.

Even though she had done this earlier, I was still surprised when Ashley leaned against my shoulder, holding my arm in hers as she did. I stayed here with her like this, staring out to this view, beyond the windows in front of us: that endless shade of violet there along the Citadel's extended arms, gathered there as the mass of the cities of the Wards themselves. The lights from the buildings and passing skycars punctured that purple as red, yellow, as everything lighter and brighter, giving these sights so much life, vibrant in appeal.

I missed seeing that same life in Ashley herself.

I missed that same vibrancy from her, endless in her appeal that first drew me to her.

I respected that Ashley was far more complicated than that, but still—I felt like this was my fault somehow. Like it was my fault for leaving her alone. Like it was my fault for not keeping her close like this before, for letting myself think that we could be apart like before. A healthy amount of distance was fine, sure…but this seemed different somehow.

This comfort, this validation from having Ashley here with me like this: I realized and accepted how badly I needed her in this way. I needed her nearby more than I needed my space. I needed to know that she was all right—at all times—otherwise…

Otherwise:

I knew.

I understood.

I settled my lips over the warmth of Ashley's scalp, smelling my scent in her hair, accepting this. Every fine line of her hair, I felt beneath my press, my mess of emotions packaged nicely in the certainty of my convictions. The slight up-and-down movements from Ashley's head as she breathed, as she existed here with me—I felt the shift, like leaving some part of me on repeat for someone else to find and fiddle around with, not knowing that I had evolved far past that point. I had no need to outright block anything like before, like last time. Leaving this illusion behind was enough, more than enough. And it worked better in my favor, in Ashley's favor, because that someone else would never know.

That someone else and I would always be connected, regardless.

With Ashley, though, these last, lingering hesitations and reservations of mine had me shy again.

I wanted to _tell her,_ in English this time, and with my voice this time, but the words refused to leave me.

The next best thing would have to do instead. For now.

"Ashley," I spoke, right over her hair, staring down at her still.

Serenity, peace: "Yeah?"

"You're incredibly beautiful, you know. I could never get tired of looking at you."

I felt Ashley's widening smile against my shoulder, over the fabric of my stealth suit.

She chose to tease me, a bit coy: "You're just saying that…"

"Not at all," I insisted, soft. "You catch my eye all the time without even trying. I like that you don't have to try. It's completely natural for you—and I adore that." Finding our singular reflection together in the window in front of us, Ashley's smile mesmerized me more. "Once we figure this whole Ilos thing out, we're going to have some downtime on the way there. You're staying with me in my bed with me tonight. I want to be with you. I want to please you, all night. However you want it, tell me, and I'll give it to you for as long as you need."

Equally as mesmerized by me, if not more, Ashley sighed in her yearning.

"You always manage to surprise me, Shepard," she whispered. "When I woke up in your arms earlier, I didn't think I'd be in the mood for this again. Not for a while, not for a long time. Hearing you like this…it feels so much easier to set the rest aside. I have no idea how you do it."

"Babe, whatever happens on Ilos, I don't want us to have any regrets. We should make the most of our time together until then. Maybe you feel the same way."

"No, I do… I really do feel the same way. I was scared that I wouldn't. I'm pretty sure I know how I want you tonight. But, I'll think it over anyway. I won't be able to help it."

"Good," I said. "Did you ever get a chance to write up that contract for us?"

Ashley nodded against me. "It's almost done," she confirmed. "I wrote it up right before Virmire, before I fell asleep that night. One of the datapads I brought from my room—that's what I used to write everything out. I'll finish it once we're back in your cabin. Shouldn't take me long at all."

"I'm looking forward to it."

"Mmm, you'd better. Some of it might surprise you. We'll talk it over."

Before I could ask about any of those mysterious surprises, I received the expected alert to my omni-tool, from Anderson's email. In his message, he confirmed that he had found a solution—and now he was at Flux, already waiting for us at a table there.

I gathered everyone up and had us head over to the club.

Past the stairs on the way there, some human kept calling out to me, asking for my attention— _"Pardon me, soldier. Could I have a moment of your time?"_ —until he saw me holding Ashley's hand. Then his face went red. He went quiet. Somehow, he looked like one of those human extremists mixed with a drug addict, all in one annoying package. He made the right choice by leaving me alone, then.

The minimal pop-synth music playing in Flux reached my ears as we entered the club itself. Almost sterile compared to Chora's Den down in the Lower Wards, though I did appreciate the clean surfaces, no matter how dull they seemed. This layered mix of red lighting over the bar and the stairs leading to the quasar machines, and the pop of green light over the dance floor by the entrance did help this place stand out some more. But even with all of the Alliance types in their fatigues and the regular citizens in suits and dresses, I couldn't help feeling that this club lacked… _something._ At least compared to the ones I was used to, and preferred.

These people dancing with no rhythm whatsoever were definitely part of the problem.

Then again, the last time I had brought everyone here, Ashley did mention that her sisters would've loved this place—and that she wanted to bring them here to have a girls' night together. So if she approved, then I guessed this club wasn't so bad.

Not too far from the tall windows overlooking that same scenic view of the Upper Wards, we found Captain Anderson sitting at a table. Blending in with the crowd, he also had on his casual Alliance blues, not wanting to stand out at the moment in his usual uniform. I went to sit down with him while the team stayed just nearby, listening in.

Anderson gave me a smile unrelated to this Ilos business.

But he and I both knew: there was no time for us to sit and chat about Ashley and me.

"Good to see you again, Commander," he greeted. "Let's get down to business, then."

"Right," I agreed, glad to avoid the obvious reasons for that smile of his. "You said you figured out a way to get around the _Normandy's_ lockdown?"

"Yes, I've figured something out. Citadel control's locked out all the _Normandy's_ systems. But if we override the ambassador's orders, we can get them to bring the ship back online. You can be in the Terminus Systems before anyone even knows you're gone."

"What's the plan?" I asked.

Anderson explained, "There's really only one way to handle this safely. Ambassador Udina issued the lockdown order. If I can hack the computer in his office, maybe I can override it."

Ashley pointed out, "He's not gonna let you waltz into his office and use his computer."

"Hopefully, he won't be there. If he is, I'll just have to think of something. I'm not above giving him a good whacking for what he pulled with you during the meeting. Whatever it takes."

"As much as I agree with you, Udina won't let this slide, Captain. You'll be charged with treason, a capital offense."

"I know, Chief," accepted Anderson. "I know. But we don't have a lot of options. This is our best shot."

I decided, "If you think it'll work, then go for it. Break into Udina's office and do what you need to do."

"All right, then. I'll make this work. I have to. He's made this personal… Anyway, you ready to get the hell off this station, Commander?"

Now or never—"Let's do it."

"I'll take care of the lockdown," promised Anderson. "You get to the _Normandy_ and tell Joker to stand by."

* * *

Back on the _Normandy,_ Anderson came through for us: as I stood with Joker at the helm, I watched in real-time as the locks over the ship's systems disappeared. As soon as the ship was back online, I ordered Joker to get us the hell out of here and off to Ilos. We managed to escape the Citadel without anyone noticing, making it to the relay in record time.

Another overnight flight, and we would arrive to Ilos where the Conduit awaited.

The team returned to their stations, finishing up the last of their duties before getting some rest.

Ashley whispered in my ear, letting me know she would return to my room and finish up our contract.

She wouldn't say it, but she wanted me to speak to the others one last time. One last time, before we touched down on Ilos, where anything could've happened. I trusted everyone to do their best, yet our objective—finding the Conduit—was still vague at this point. We didn't know what the hell it was, exactly. We wouldn't find out until we got there and looked around for ourselves. I hated going into this nearly blind. We didn't have a choice, though.

Since Joker was right next to me, I lingered in place.

I didn't really know what to say to him. We hadn't spoken one-on-one—not since that night I found him up here giggling like a schoolkid over Liara and me. A lot had changed since then. _Everything_ had changed since then. And he knew that, so he turned around in his chair to look at me properly.

Joker looked up at me standing here and said, "Hey, Commander, you don't have to say what's on your mind. I get it—this might be our last mission together if this all goes south. But hey, look on the bright side! We didn't have to play tag with the Citadel on our way out of that lockdown mess. Maybe the actual shit down on Ilos will be just as smooth!"

"If only," I humored. "We still don't know what the Conduit actually is. Finding it could be a nightmare."

"True, true," agreed Joker. "Still, you know what else was a nightmare? Not knowing how you felt. Not knowing if there was a real person in there, or if you were some kinda robot who only gave a damn about results. I know I'm probably cutting it close here with my _emotional_ thoughts or whatever. Just wanted to say I'm glad you're happy with Ash and looking out for her. It does a hell of a lot to boost morale around here, that's for sure."

Lowering my guard a bit: "I don't get how this helps you fly the ship better, but if it works, it works."

"Shepard, come on! _Of course_ you get it! Back in the day, we all kinda walked on eggshells around you, not knowing how close we were to pissing you off. One wrong move and BAM! The commander's throwing us out of the airlock next! We respected you then and we still respect you now—don't get me wrong. There's just less danger involved if we dare to ask you how you're doing."

"Joker, it's not like I _wanted_ to be that angry," I tried. "Shit happened. I couldn't help it."

"I know, I know," he accepted. "Hell, I used to be the same way. You know how I got my nickname in flight school—I never smiled, so my instructors started calling me Joker. Guess I was pissed off, too. About my condition, about other people always looking down on me for it. I had a lot to prove. That's what landed me here. There's no place else I'd rather be, even if we _are_ mutineers on the run. I care more about doing right by you than following the rules. So maybe everything happens for a reason."

"That's true," I accepted, as well. "Thanks, Joker. For sticking by the team. And for sticking by me. I appreciate everything you've done for us. I trust you to get us to Ilos in one piece."

Joker pretended to sniffle. "Aww, thanks, Commander. You're gonna make me cry now…"

"Don't get used to it," I deadpanned.

This time, Joker laughed.

"Aye, aye, Ma'am! Now go on, get out of here. I'm not the only one who wants to hear from you. We'll make it to Ilos faster than you can bang your girlfriend twice. Or five times. Or for the whole flight!"

I left the bridge, saying, "I'm going to pretend like I didn't hear you, Joker. It's for your own safety."

He called after me, "What? You know I'm right! The next time I see Ash, and she's got that _look_ on her face, I'll know how many times you went at it! I bet you I'll be able to tell! You're a god, remember?"

I flipped him off over my shoulder.

Joker cackled and turned back around in his seat, returning _most_ of his focus to flying the ship. Of course, one of the biggest perverts in the Alliance just so happened to be the best pilot around. But if he was this happy about Ashley and me, I couldn't really fault him for the way he joked around.

Heading through the command center, I took the winding staircase down to the crew deck, thin blue lights glowing over the steps in guidance. Out of curiosity, I checked the mess hall, finding that there was no one in here. Just this empty space, of this blue mixed with lighter orange, brightening the area in a calm contemplation. I had so many memories of seeing the others sitting here at these tables together—Ashley, Garrus, Wrex, Liara, Tali, Kaidan, Joker, and sometimes Dr. Chakwas—either all together or only a handful of them, eating there and talking without me. I had so many more memories of _avoiding_ everyone here in this hall, in this kitchen, needing to be on my own: in and out with little regard for anyone I did happen to bump into.

Now that we were here at this moment, I almost regretted not spending enough time with them.

As friends.

But honestly, aside from Ashley, I was still convinced that I needed to maintain some kind of distance from everyone. At least on the surface. Not out of fear this time. Only out of a sense of professionalism, in order to make it clear that yes, we were _friends,_ yet we still had to keep this hierarchy going. I would never be Best Friends Forever with the team, though they were allowed to come to me if they needed my help with anything—work-related or personal. That was the best balance for me, and for all of us.

Satisfied with my decision, I looked inside the med bay next.

Dr. Chakwas wasn't in here, though I did spot her e-book reader over her desk, next to her terminal. She wouldn't have left to her quarters without it. I assumed she would be back soon enough.

Liara's door was locked again—that glare of red light over her door controls. After my maneuvering, she couldn't know that I meant to speak to her now. So I couldn't blame her for locking herself in her room.

I left to the elevator, figuring I would return to the med bay later, after talking to the others first.

Compared to the mess hall, my memories of this slow ass elevator were less sentimental. Outside of missions with the Mako, I had only used this a handful of times to come down to the cargo hold instead of going up to my private room. I mostly remembered standing around here on my own in my stealth suit, as I did now, heading down to meet everyone gearing up in the armory after our mission briefings.

As the elevator door opened, I found that armory again off in the near-distance: and as I already knew and expected, Ashley was not there, instead working on our contract up in my room. But as I stepped out to the endless dark blue of the cargo bay, I found myself swelling with actual regrets this time: regrets over not speaking to Ashley more while she cleaned our rifles, regrets over not approaching her first a long time ago, and regrets over having made her first month aboard my ship a living hell with my false beliefs about her.

I'd always known that she liked me, and I had liked her, too, in my own ways.

I really should have set my reservations aside in favor of getting to know her sooner instead.

I wasn't convinced that she would've been able to tear down my barriers in the same way that Liara had, but for the sake of avoiding that mess from before, it would've been nice if I had kept to one woman:

If I had kept to Ashley, and only Ashley.

Fresh with my memories of the one and only time I had come down to chat with her before shore leave, I looked to Garrus and Wrex in here instead. Garrus finished up with the last of his calibrations on the Mako before the next mission; Wrex surveyed Ashley's red and black armor, nodding as he found that I had patched those holes up to his satisfaction.

I went over to Garrus first, knowing that I had neglected him over these long months.

Nothing on purpose on my end. Garrus and I had just had the fewest opportunities to connect in any sort of way. I knew that he had plenty of leadership skills from his time in C-Sec, and so he had been on that pipeline of reliable leaders among the team. If Kaidan or Ashley couldn't take charge for whatever reason, then I would always look to Garrus to step up and fill in the gaps. I respected that he was a competent sniper as well. And I didn't mind that he was more reserved than some of the others—maybe even more reserved than I was. It simply left us with next to no room to have a real conversation with each other.

Once I reached Garrus at his station, he stopped his work, looking to me in gratitude.

"Hey, Commander," he said. "Thanks for stopping by. The Mako will be up and running again in no time. She took a beating on Virmire, what with all those geth shooting at us, whittling down her shields. Not much I can do about those maneuverability issues. I suppose we'll just have to make do."

"Yeah, we'll manage," I agreed. "I appreciate your hard work, Garrus. How are you holding up down here?"

Garrus smiled, despite everything: "Well, I'm worried about the optics. Mutiny's a pretty big deal, especially in the turian military. If this whole Ilos thing doesn't turn out the way we hope, it won't end up well for us. But I'm confident we're doing the right thing. If we'd sat back and done nothing, the outcome could've been much worse than what we're risking today."

"I'm glad that's how you see things. Not much red tape in our way this time."

"Not much at all. Just Captain Anderson committing treason for us while we run off to deal with Saren."

"I'm sure Anderson will be all right," I reassured. "Once all of this is over, the Council will see that he did the right thing. And if they don't, I'll make them see reason."

"I'm happy that the captain can count on you, Commander. And I'm happy that _we_ can count on you, too. You haven't let us down, not once. You get the job done, no matter the cost. Even when that cost may make me uncomfortable. But it doesn't matter how I personally feel. What matters is that I believe in you. You'll pull off the impossible if necessary. I'm sure of it."

"Thanks, Garrus," I replied. "I'm sorry you and I haven't had the chance to speak much during this mission. You've been a reliable member of the team as one of our leaders. I respect everything that you've done for us as well."

Garrus smiled more. "Hearing that from you helps a lot," he expressed. "I did have my concerns that maybe we didn't get along, or that you didn't care like this. Glad to see I was wrong. I guess we're so similar in some ways, it's hard to see past our own silence. I'll do my best to keep this conversation close by."

"I want you to do that, yeah. You don't have to take my silence to mean that I care any less. It's just how I am; it's just how you are. We can have this quiet understanding instead."

"Absolutely," settled Garrus. "I appreciate that, Shepard. For now, though, I shouldn't keep you any longer. I need to take care of the last of these calibrations before I get some rest. You should get some rest, too, whenever you can."

I gave him a curt nod. "I will. I'll let you get back to it, then. I'll see you later once it's time to head out."

Garrus returned my nod, continuing on with his work.

I crossed the cargo bay to the opposite side, over to Wrex here by our armor lockers.

Setting Ashley's armor back in her locker, Wrex acknowledged me—"Shepard."

I acknowledged him back—"Wrex."

Wrex smirked at me. "Glad you've still got your sense of humor," he remarked. "It's a big deal, what we've done. Stealing the _Normandy_ and all. But I'm with you, Shepard. All the way. No turning back now. Wouldn't want to, anyway. We owe Saren an ass-kicking."

"Good to hear, Wrex," I told him. "You doing all right?"

"Hmm, yeah, maybe," he replied, uncertain. "Stopped drinking. Didn't want to cause any more problems for us. Then I woke up in my room today with a bunch of _stuff_ from the kitchen. Can't remember how any of it got there."

I remembered his sleepwalking. "Have you talked to Dr. Chakwas about this?"

"I did. She gave me some meds to take. They're supposed to work for krogan. I'll just have to trust her."

"Are you stressed? Anxious?"

Wrex sighed, admitting, "Both—that's what the meds are for. I'll keep my head on for Ilos, of course. Outside of that, I'm not proud of what I did back on Virmire. What I almost did. You and Ashley are my friends. Should've never pulled a gun on you. Even if I _was_ hungover like hell. That's no excuse…"

"Wrex, it's okay," I insisted. "We talked this over. What I said still applies. Ashley forgave you. I forgive you. We can move on from this, can't we?"

"We can," he allowed. "I'll get over this soon enough. Guess it'll take time, that's all. Sorry for being all emotional, Shepard. It's not like me. The floodgates are kinda open now. Can't just tune shit out like I did before. Gotta learn how to actually deal with all of this now, instead of burying it."

I empathized, "It's definitely a learning process. I can relate."

Wrex chuckled. "I can believe that," he said. "I'd tease you about it, but…I don't know, I'm still kind of tired. Everyone's armor is taken care of. I made sure to reinforce Chief's shields and protections now that your omni-gel's all settled in. She'll be indestructible in case the worst somehow happens again."

"Go get some sleep, then," I encouraged. "You'll need it before Ilos. We don't know what to expect down there, not for certain. I want you at your best."

"Yeah, I'll get a move-on and head back to bed. Whatever happens, Shepard, I just wanted to say thanks. For helping this old fossil grow into a stronger person. Still working on some things, though. I hope you can be patient with me."

I offered my hand to him. "Thank you, Wrex. This team wouldn't be the same without you."

Wrex shook my hand in appreciation. "And we wouldn't have made it this far without _you,_ Commander. You're a hell of a leader. We'll keep on following you, wherever this path takes us."

I watched as Wrex took the elevator back up to the crew deck, so that he could return to his room.

Hopefully no more sleepwalking from now on.

As the last stop down here, I walked over to Engineering, through the door. Engineer Adams wasn't in here, or any of the rest of the crew. I only saw Tali at her same station on the left side, right next to the bright, calming pulses of the drive core. Not typing away at her private terminal this time, she looked like she was in the middle of something with the drive core itself, working on the panel there.

She did have her private terminal here, off to the side while it ran a program in the background.

I approached her, speaking up sooner this time—"Tali?"

Surprised that I hadn't startled her, Tali turned to regard me. "Oh! Hello, Shepard," she greeted. "This is quite exciting, isn't it? Being on the run like this aboard the _Normandy._ It's a new experience for us all."

"You mean you're not worried?" I questioned.

"No, not really," admitted Tali. "Then again, I know I should be… Stealing ships in the Migrant Fleet is a capital offense. I can only imagine how badly the Alliance would punish us if they somehow found out. I mean, they _will_ find out. But once they see that it was worth it, I'm positive that they'll change their thinking on this. Saren won't just sit around and wait for us to stop him, after all."

Still confused, I shared, "Well, I'm happy to see you're practicing some positive thinking."

Tali giggled. "Don't be silly, Shepard," she told me. "I trust you. We'll be fine. That's how I'm able to stay positive about this whole thing."

"I appreciate that, you know," I responded. "We couldn't have gotten this far without your skills and expertise. I'll miss you whenever you decide to head back to your people."

"Thanks… But you don't have to worry. That won't be for a while yet. I'll stay here for as long as you need me. Serving my captain in this way makes me feel fulfilled. I wouldn't trade this for anything in the galaxy. You have my word."

Her sweetness made me smile.

Just as sweet, Tali gave me a hug.

She let out a comforted exhale here against me, here in my hold, revitalized even past her already-positive state. I let myself linger with her for a bit—since we might not have made it back from Ilos, since this might have been our last time doing this. Second and possibly last, but it didn't matter. I believed Tali's promises to me: that she would always be here, no matter what. I had no reason to doubt her, not even with her feelings for me in the picture.

Purely so, the way Tali expected nothing in return kept me close to her, caring for her in this way.

"Tali," I said.

"Mmm?"

Realizing that we had a lot unspoken between us, I told her, "You know, if there's anything you need… Anything you want to talk about. I'm here."

She laughed softly, a bit mischievous. Like she had a glint in her tone. Getting to me a little too much.

"I know that," replied Tali, with another glint, noticing my reactions. "And I love that you're _here._ We don't need to discuss anything right now. Not like that. Although I do want to ask you something."

"What is it?"

Wording herself carefully: "Do you really have a habit of running away? Running from your feelings?"

"Yes," I confessed.

"So what I'm noticing about you…what I've always noticed: I'm not seeing things?"

Controlling my breathing, I couldn't respond to that. I only held her closer to me.

Tali hummed, intrigued. "I see. Well, let's just say this contributes greatly to my positive thinking. You will do what you need to do. Whatever you decide, I'm not going anywhere. I'm happy to serve you. You are my beloved captain. I would do anything for you. _Truly._ As long as you know that, I'll be fine."

Once again with her, with my instincts:

Somehow, Tali seemed to know more about me than she let on… A lot more than what my defenses showed. Way more than anything she could simply notice on her own. Unless I was that transparent around her. She was impossibly perceptive, after all. It was one of the things I liked about her so much.

Still, something kept telling me to keep her out of this. To not let her get involved. To protect her instead.

Even if it meant coddling her, or babysitting her, as she'd probably accused me of before…I had to do it.

Otherwise, I could have lost her to the chaos brimming beneath the surface, far past my view.

"All right," I accepted. "I just…wanted you to know that I care, Tali. Even when I don't say anything. My silence isn't negative. Not with you. As my friend, you're special to me. I don't ever want that to change."

"Special, hm?" she fantasized, sounding pleased. "Like some type of princess? One deserving of your unique, special treatment this way?"

I didn't mean to laugh at that. "Yeah, maybe. I wouldn't let anyone else get away with calling me a big softy, that's for sure. I think I still have plenty to learn from you. I like having you in my life, exactly as you are. So, if you need me for something, then I want you to let me know. You can rely on me."

"It's very sweet of you," whispered Tali, pulling away. "Thank you, Shepard…" We stared at each other for a long moment. Imagining. "We'll make it out of this, with the mission. We have to. I know you'll do whatever it takes to make sure we succeed." Sighing in contentment, she then gestured to her private terminal. "By the way, I'm nearly finished with unencrypting those notes from Liara's mother. Sorry it's taken so long. I'm assuming this must be valuable. I'll have it ready for you once it's time to leave."

"Thanks, Tali. It means a lot. I should go. Make sure you get some sleep soon, all right?"

"Yes, I'll be sure to do that. See you later!"

Smiling at her one last time—almost wistful with what remained unspoken, lingering between us—I left Engineering, and went back up the elevator.

Crew deck again, med bay again: I still didn't see Dr. Chakwas in here. Her e-book reader was still on her desk. And the door to Liara's room was still locked.

I went over to her door anyway, knocking.

Waiting, waiting for a few minutes—no answer.

I knocked again, firmer this time.

 _This time,_ Liara answered the door, looking annoyed at first, like I had disturbed her. I smelled this familiar, breezy scent from inside her room, and from her directly, making me smile a bit.

Then she saw that it was me, and that annoyance faded away to shock, to confusion.

"Hey, Liara," I said to her. "Just wanted to check up on you. Everything all right?"

Liara had trouble keeping eye contact with me now.

"Yes… I am fine. Thank you for asking."

Whether she knew what I had done or not, it didn't matter.

I couldn't believe that she was all right, though.

Not entirely.

Not really.

At this stage, it wasn't my place to ask. Even as much as Liara stared at me in this thin fog of hers, feeling us together, but without her moment-to-moment clairvoyance, I knew that this was best. She suspected something was up. She couldn't know what it was for certain. She couldn't spot this second in me to see where my thoughts were, where my emotions were.

Hiding from her as a ghost, as a shadow.

I embraced Liara anyway, despite how off-balance she was.

Universal in her own longings, she returned my hold, delicate this time.

"This will all be over soon, Shepard," murmured Liara, against my chest. "One way or another."

Stroking her back, and the crests over her head, I let that speak as my agreement.

Approaching footsteps made Liara step out of my hold, away from me. She moved back inside her room, only giving me one last look: her head canted downward, the wide blue of her eyes as uncertain as she had been back on Virmire, if not more. Whatever that _more_ was, Liara wouldn't let me figure it out or discern it in any way whatsoever—she closed her door, with that automated sound as air, before the red of her door controls returned once more.

Even though this was _best_ …I felt my chest constricting anyway.

Maybe I shouldn't have felt this way about her, still. But it was—important. Difficult to let go of.

At this rate, I probably never would. And I accepted that.

I walked away, about halfway through the med bay when Dr. Chakwas entered.

"How good to see you again, Commander," she said with a smile. "Were it under better circumstances, of course. I do worry about us being fugitives from the Alliance. But the crew are all counting on you to not let them down. I have faith in you."

"I appreciate that," I replied, watching as she picked up that e-book reader of hers. "I can't afford to let everyone down. Not for anything. We'll get this done."

"I trust your convictions. If there is anything I can do to help once the battle is over, I will be here. As always."

I gave her a nod, and stepped by her.

But as I was about to leave to the elevator, I stopped in the doorway.

I stopped here, in this divider between the med bay and the mess hall, thinking…

Thinking, and _feeling_ all the universe here within me, deep in my mind.

Dr. Chakwas sensed the same thing, speaking with the same gravity I felt: "Shepard, there is one last thing… You recall when I emailed you on your birthday, I mentioned that your mind appears to be greatly fortified. I meant what I said back then. Every word of it."

Unable to face her with this sudden dread of mine, I asked, "And now…?"

"Once more, I am not certain of how I know this…but you are _ready._ Whatever that means. Whatever that could possibly imply, I don't know. All I do know is that this is what you are. You are completely and utterly prepared now to pull off the impossible. So, Commander, should you find yourself in a challenging situation down on Ilos, I would like you to remember my words—remember what I have said to you, speaking on through my own unconscious perception. Remember this, and push forward."

Through my same perception, this collective known unknown, I believed her.

"Thanks, Dr. Chakwas," I said to her, not quite all there anymore. "Thanks—for everything you've done for us. I promise I'll keep your words in mind."

* * *

Returning to my room at last, I still felt like I was outside of my own body somehow, looking in.

The only thing that brought me back down was seeing Ashley again—she sat at my desk at her private terminal, jotting something down on one of those datapads of hers. Illuminated by the light of the aquarium, she had found her comfort here already, as I'd hoped, wearing her usual oversized T-shirt and those tight pants of hers. Her screen showed all the extranet tabs she had open to various kink sites, and she had her omni-tool open to the team's chat room. From what little I could see of their chatting, everyone seemed happy that I had stopped by to talk with them individually, encouraged by my efforts.

 _Everyone_ minus one specific person.

I walked closer to Ashley, ripe with this rippling feeling of my heartbeats reverberating in me, all over, just from having her presence here.

She flipped her datapad over in a panic, and quickly closed her omni-tool's interface.

"Hey, babe," I said, not minding this panic of hers, and leaning down to kiss her—

"—wait a minute, no peeking!"

Ashley pushed me away by my jaw, keeping me from spotting what she'd written down for our contract.

Looking off to the side now instead, I smiled, asking her, "Hard at work, then?"

"Finishing up these last touches, Skipper!" replied Ashley, oblivious to what I had spotted from her multi-tasking. "Why don't you take a shower or something? I _should_ be done by the time you're out."

"You _should,_ huh?" I probed, heading over to my mini-refrigerator.

"Yeah…I definitely should be."

Before taking my shower, I found that same bottle of rich, sweet white wine from that last time Ashley was here with me. I poured a glass for her and only her, indulging in this feeling: of how nice it felt to have Ashley in my room like this, getting to come back to her, returning home to her in a way. I loved it even more considering she had been in a terrible mood earlier, and for good reason. Then again, even if she did choose to not share the details with me— _never, ever_ —I couldn't fault her for it. For the time being, I was relieved that she had bounced back.

This resilience of hers was part of what made Ashley so attractive to me in the first place.

No matter the odds, she never let anything defeat her.

 _Eventually,_ she always persisted and won.

I truly respected that about her.

I returned to Ashley with this respect, with this glass of wine—with my hand over my eyes.

As I reached her at the desk, Ashley laughed in delight. "Shepard…seriously. How are you this sweet?"

I handed her the glass. "Here, babe. You're free to look around the room for whatever you want. If you're hungry or if you need a drink, I have plenty to choose from in the refrigerator. As far as I'm concerned, this is your space, too."

Ashley accepted the wine, setting it down over the desk.

She then stood up, giving me this unexpected taste of her lips, of her own smile so reliable, so firm and succulent and sweet.

"You're still a lifesaver, you know," whispered Ashley, breathing into me. "With everything that's going on lately…I thought I was in this on my own. And I could've dealt with it by myself. I planned on doing it. That's what I'm used to. Then you found me again, reminding me that I have you to lean on."

Sight darkened by my hand, by my closed eyes, I wished I could have looked at her right now.

Regardless, I shared with her, "Ash, I know you're used to dealing with things on your own. So am I. There are some habits I might not get over for a while. But I'm here for you. We can work things out, together. As long as I have this certainty with you, I can be pretty patient about things. More understanding than I normally would be. You know exactly why."

This smile in her voice, brightened by me: "Yeah, I do… When you're ready for me to _understand,_ I'll be here, waiting for you to tell me." Ashley then turned me around. "Okay, kicking you out now! I'll see you when you're done, Skipper."

"Whatever you want, babe."

Ashley laughed again, sexy in her mischief this time, before sitting back down and returning to those finishing touches.

As I showered alone without her, though, this weird out-of-body feeling came back to me. Since we honestly had no idea what awaited us on Ilos, I couldn't help thinking that this was related somehow. Like I would finally have _some_ kind of definite answers to these strange experiences, these strange connections, these strange tolerances I had built up over these long months. All the while, Liara wouldn't leave these thoughts of mine. She was connected to this whole thing, somehow—or rather, the very foundation of it, just as I felt her here in my own foundations, right where she'd always been.

So much more was out there, waiting for us to find it.

Waiting for me to stumble upon it.

Way too much, even—beyond my own comprehension now, beyond my own recollection.

All I could really recall, from the absolute beginning, was how I had denied these connections, these threads binding us all together. Then again, somewhere, I knew the truth of it all, buried deep down, far out of my reach. Wherever that place was, I understood that I would have to pull from it soon.

Pulling from a fountain, pulling from a well: I needed this water first to sate me.

Turning off the water of my shower once I was done, I put my clothes on, and dealt with my hair: applying this heat protector before the actual heat itself—drying, straightening. I felt this heat from my hair baring down along my back, just over the thinness of my white tank top, sleeveless. Black of my boxer briefs, black of my sweatpants—such normal, solid colors, uninterrupted by anything brighter or more distracting, sticking to this one, predictable path of preferences.

I had no idea how, but I felt _ready,_ too.

And not just because Dr. Chakwas had said that I was.

I froze this feeling in place, too, for now, deciding to come back to it when I needed it most.

Freezing more, this damned snap freeze got to me as soon as I left my bathroom, temperatures equalizing. I forgot all about it once I saw Ashley again, as she stood up from the desk, finding me here right beside her. She guarded that datapad close to her chest, looking eager to have this talk with me before anything else.

"Done this time?" I asked.

"Yep, I'm all set," replied Ashley. "Let's sit together. I want to know what you think."

I saw her half-full glass of wine on the desk, taking it with me. Letting me hold her free hand up with mine, Ashley followed me down the short flight of steps to the couch. We sat down next to one another on the same side as last time, facing the TV, the aquarium. Adding to the memory, I went ahead and turned the television on, bring up those same types of music videos like before: my usual choice of music, to avoid any possible awkward silences. Not that I thought we would have any. We were more or less comfortable with each other without feeling complacent, which I enjoyed.

Ashley handed me the contact for me to look over. As I did, she covered her legs with that same red blanket of mine. Holding back her anxieties, she watched me as I read, as I drank the rest of her leftover wine; she listened to the soft simmer of the music, yet she still kept her focus to me.

If nothing else, she could tell that I was pleased by the simplicity here in her forced-neat handwriting.

The way she had organized this, Ashley stuck to that same simplicity. She first specified that the terms of this contract were flexible—if something changed down the line, then we could add or remove certain things whenever we needed to. For now, this was what she wanted. And under these headings, she listed each of these things for me to read plainly, once again in simplicity.

I wasn't at all surprised by most of the things she had added, and the categories she had added them under:

_Things I don't want for us – hard limits_

_-You-know-what. Non-negotiable._

_-Yelling at me while I'm in a submissive headspace._

_-Cheating on me. I know what I said about this before. I don't want you to do it._

_-Cheating on you. I'd never hurt you like that._

_-Pushing you too hard if you let me top you. I'll go with whatever you're in the mood for._

_-Bondage. No tying me down._

_-Anything too physical: choking, slapping, hitting, flogging, whatever else. That's just asking for us to get into a fist fight, and there's no way I'm doing that with you. Maybe I'll let you spank me._

_-Anything else involving physical pain or risky sensations. Same thing. I'm not a masochist like that._

_-Depriving me of my senses. I trust you, but I need to be aware of what's going on._

_-Swinging. Too much drama._

_-If something somehow goes too far, "fuck off" will stop everything immediately. That's the safe word._

_-No setting your omni-tool status to unavailable if you're talking in private with another woman._

_-If another woman likes you, I don't mind if you hug her. Anything more than that is a no-go. I don't want you kissing her or spending a bunch of time with her or whatever else._

_Things I'm unsure about for now – soft limits_

_-Polyamory with or without actual romantic feelings involved. And it would only be for one woman that we both want. A certain woman we already know is a hard limit. Just no._

_-If I do make that exception, then I won't mind what you do with her in private. Maybe you wouldn't mind what I did with her, either. That would take some serious trust._

_-Still going back to this whole polyamory thing, I could accept her as your other submissive partner, part-time. You'd have to agree to let me watch or join in if I feel like it._

_-I'm always going to be your main one, your one and only. I refuse to play second-best to anyone ever again. Not when it comes to you. If I tell you we have to call it off with her, then we'll call it off._

_-I would only make an exception to these soft limits under special circumstances. So they're technically hard limits for now unless and until we agree on someone like this._

_Things I want/need for us_

_-I'm in charge. I want you to please me. I want you to put me first. I want you to let me be selfish for once in my life, while still not going overboard. I need to be able to rely on you, to trust you completely. I mean it._

_-Handing the reins back to you for work, for missions. You're in charge. I won't buck your authority._

_-Edge play: giving you a handjob/blowjob while you're asleep, and you fucking me while I'm asleep._

_-Rough sex, but within reason. I want that power play with you more than anything._

_-Having your so-called mess on my face, down my throat, inside of me. Anywhere on me._

_-Taking that risk with you. No protection. I'll take my meds afterward…unless we're trying for something._

_-You as my true superior. This gets back to letting me be selfish. I can be a brat when I don't get my way. Whether I say it out loud or not, when I want something, I need you to give it to me._

_-Dress me and undress me as much as possible. Even with my armor before and after missions. Even if you're pissed off at me, I need you to do this one thing. It can be our little moment together. If we're in the armory, then I don't care who sees. They won't get it anyway. I like that they won't understand. If they ask, just ignore them. I'll do my best to not get carried away, slipping too far into subspace._

_-If we're in a fight, and I'm mad at you, then I want you to apologize first. Doesn't matter who's right._

_-If we're in a fight, and we're out somewhere, I want you to hold my hand anyway. I want your manners._

_-Holding hands, your manners: as long as we're not on an active battlefield, then I want this from you._

_-I'll sleep in my room if you need your space. Other than that, I want us to sleep together from now on._

_-Staying faithful. This goes back to us not cheating. I need you to be faithful to me. I'll be faithful to you._

_-Let me be fair to you as much as possible. I'll show you my gratitude when I can. When you've earned it._

_-Let me be demanding, bitchy, judgmental—whatever. Let me challenge you. I bet you secretly like it._

_-Communicating in general. If I don't know what you're thinking, what you're feeling, it's like I'm lost._

_Things I'm open to doing with you_

_-Cucking. If there's another woman who wants you, and I'm into the idea, then I want to watch you fuck her. Anything not on my terms and without my permission would be cheating. That would break my heart. And if I tell you to stop at any time, for any reason, then you'd better fucking stop._

_-Threesomes (or a little more). Same as with cucking. Maybe I'll join in if I really want to. Women only._

_-24/7. More of an extension of your superiority. I'm not sure how this would work during missions. But the idea of giving up total control to you twenty-four hours a day, seven days a week…it does turn me on a lot._

_-Exhibitionism. Even if we're only having sex somewhere in public with no one else around, like our first time, I'd be happy with that. Ease me into more over time if you want. It mostly depends on you._

_-Whatever else. If something new comes up, we can talk about it._

By the time I finished reading this, staring at her signature at the bottom of the page, I was done drinking the rest of the wine.

I had somehow set the glass over the nearby table without realizing.

And I wasn't aware of the expression on my face, but Ashley kept smirking at me from behind the blanket. She seemed to like however I looked right now. I couldn't mind her enjoyment. Ashley knew she'd caught me off-guard with some of these things—most especially the _things_ she was open to. I assumed that this was for much later, for down the line. Still, she had included them here now, today, instead of leaving them unmentioned, or in this final category of _whatever else._

Without her needing to say it, I already knew that her exceptions excluded a certain someone.

There was no way Ashley would ever go for that. I didn't want it, either, despite my own desires lingering, quite powerful.

"So?" she asked, expectant. "What do you think? Anything you disagree with?"

"There's nothing I outright _disagree_ with," I managed to say. "I'm…a little shocked about your exceptions more than anything. Cucking, threesomes? Polyamory and me having another sub as your soft limits—really?"

 _"Really,"_ said Ashley. "Obviously not with anyone we know right now. I'm thinking more about the future with those things. Who knows? We might meet someone who checks those boxes. I'm not saying it'd be a repeat of how you and I first got involved. Just, you know, if we all agree, and we can keep those boundaries, then I don't see the harm in it. I think it could be fun if everything works out."

"No one we know right now?" I wondered, mind wandering to the obvious: "Not even…Tali?"

Ashley hummed, uncertain. "I mean, Tali's like a little sister to me," she mused. "That wouldn't work. Not the way I have in mind. But maybe I'm wrong. I'd have to think it over." Not wanting to give myself away, I couldn't tell her how I actually felt about this. I knew Ash would've gotten jealous of Tali, of what she had to offer me, shutting down the whole possibility. Moving on, she made herself clear: "Other than Tali, though, this definitely _doesn't_ include anyone else we already know. Forward-thinking!"

"But why, Ash? You made it seem like you'd never be into this kind of thing."

"Hey, it's not like I said it was a hard limit before. And it _was_ on my mind that night when we talked about everything. I actually like the idea of being in control of that kind of situation, dictating when someone can or can't have sex with you. Or even how much someone's allowed to think they belong to you. Let's just say I'm more adventurous than you might think."

There was something more here that Ashley wouldn't divulge.

I knew as much, since she had moved _no cheating_ under her official hard limits.

Then again, that was her prerogative. If she didn't want to tell me, then she didn't want to tell me.

"You're adventurous," I echoed, nodding. "Okay, that makes more sense. And I can see why you'd like being in control that way. Still, this is definitely something for— _later._ Meaning not any time soon."

"Definitely," she agreed. "You can't be the one to bring it up, either. If I want it, then I'll say so."

"That works for me."

Seeing as there was nothing else I wanted to go over, I went ahead and signed my name under hers.

Ashley beamed at me. "We're official, then?"

"Yeah, we are," I confirmed. "It's that simple. Even though it took us a while to get to this point."

"You know I don't mind that… I wanted to be patient for you. Now that we have this together, I don't necessarily expect things to _change._ Like, for tonight…I want you to take things slow with me. Slow and simple. Vanilla, even with this contract we have now. Give me a _normal_ night for now. Give me one to remember."

Drawn to Ashley's confidence, how she knew exactly what she wanted, I moved closer to her.

Drawn more to her expectations, how she held such high standards of me, I pressed my hands over the couch at either side of her, leaning my weight here. Smirking, Ashley brought me into her space, leaning back all the way against the couch. She enjoyed keeping me here; she enjoyed this gravity of me, the same that kept me locked to her like this, unable to look away. This new depth about her, lower and deeper and darker than before—she had me captivated, far more.

I had to make sure: "Do you want me to wear it, then?"

"Once you take me to bed, yes… I want you to put it on. I need you all the way inside of me, Shepard. Boring missionary, whatever—I want to know how it feels. I want you to keep going for as long as possible, all night long. For as long as you can, until we absolutely _have_ to sleep. I don't want us to go to Ilos until I can _know you_ like this. And when we're there, it'll make me fight way harder. Stronger. I promise."

Our contract, talk of the future, and Ashley's undeniable mood: she wasn't at all worried that this could have been our last night together, or that we might not make it back from Ilos at all.

She wasn't concerned that she might lose me somehow.

None of that registered.

The way Ashley admired me—stroking the crown of my hair, her eyes tracking and tracing every single follicle there, the spread of different brown shades from dark to light, and my blonde highlights there—I felt her learning me, like she fully intended on continuing this for months, for years to come. And I watched that esteem swelling in her eyes. I studied it, finally seeing for myself what it was like to have this type of certainty with someone. I understood at last what it meant to actually believe in this longevity: believing Ashley when she reinforced her promises to not leave, to not give up on us; believing her when she said that she loved me, and knowing that she would always feel this way.

Changing her learning for now, I tasted those convictions in her mouth as a blooming softness, finer than any rose petals. I smelled that same scent over Ashley's skin, tinted with vanilla in prophecy, almost marking the mood of my movements, my restraint with her tonight. Spurred by this smell of her, I gave Ashley what I should've given to her in my bed at home, after she had told me _yes._ Giving this to her even with my own shyness knotting my stomach, trying to limit me: she felt my rebellion, moaning into me at this perfect frequency, with so much beauty here in her voice against me.

Losing herself already, Ashley lost more of her control once she felt my hands against her back, beneath her shirt. Bare skin, roaming—held her closer to me in certainty, right up against me, concave. Up higher, her shirt tenting along the backs of my hands, my forearms, I found that she'd left her bra off for me, finding the same open story in the way she felt pressed against my own chest. Only this white cotton shirt rounded over her, making me feel her want already; making me smile with the same want.

"Shepard," she breathed, so uneven in my mouth. "What happened…to you being _shy?_ Where did all of this come from—?"

I pulled Ashley's shirt up and off, setting it out of the way.

Magnetized to this slope of her chest, I clasped my lips along her cleavage, unending.

Neverending in this rise of hers, rounding in an impeccable, firm softness, just like her kiss: Ashley found her succor in my own, from my own, in my own. Raw sugar from her skin, hard candy—this side, first, I obsessed over in balance, in gentleness at the right tempo, the right pressure. The perfect feeling, all from her feedback, from the way Ashley sighed in bliss, bringing me into her more without suffocating, without forcing anything. Feeling her breaths just through her in my mouth, I found my fetish here, in the way she had relaxed without relaxing, whining in this tenderness, so irresistible.

Holding me here, Ashley curled her wrist, her hand along the bend of my neck, my shoulder. Unexpected grace from her touch, I needed her exactly like this, soothing me. Soothed even by the soreness in her left arm, draped around my shoulders, over my hair, letting me support her like this.

Calming, validating in her vulnerability: "This is exactly what I've always wanted from you… You're so good to me, Shepard." This texture of Ashley's voice, blended with her satisfaction, made her sound ethereal to me, guiding me to her other side. "If we had the chance…do you think you could keep doing this to me for hours? Hours on-end, for days…? Maybe even longer than that?" Succor from her sighs, succor from my own highs—I nodded against her, still going. "I really wish we could… You have no idea."

I liked that Ashley was right, and that I _didn't_ have any idea; that I didn't have the full picture.

I liked putting myself to work for her, to learn more pieces of the entire scale of her passions for me.

As much as I needed to know everything, to be prepared, I loved this known unknown with her and only her. I loved that Ashley could make me love her harder without trying, without ever fully revealing her obsessions, and without meaning to withhold them from me. I loved that these obsessions, these fixations of hers were that magnanimous, everlasting in scope, and that I could spend years trying to scope them down to no avail.

I carried Ashley to my bed with this acceptance of mine, setting her down beneath the comforter, between the sheets. She only folded her arms over her chest by reflex—or to be coy. Coyness, more than likely: because when I leaned down to her, she smirked in denial, turning away. Still, I wanted to prolong this with her—to do the same to the rest of her body, finally knowing her, especially her legs. I kept thinking of that bend there, that specific place of her that I needed to taste for myself, well-aware of my own fetish. But she had already made it obvious what she wanted for tonight.

Ashley made it obvious again: "Put it on. I want to feel you. I want you in me right away. You can give me more foreplay next time."

Throbbing for her, so fucking urgent for her in her own urgency, I stepped over to my holo-closet nearby. Keeping this impatience away as best as I could, I found the exact same strap-on that I had worn in our dream. I put it on beneath my clothes, finding this urgency again—

Swelling, thickening, I had to push myself down with my hand.

Facing away from Ashley for the moment, I felt her eyes on my back, hazed over in lust and love as one.

Even more, I heard it in the music from the TV, so sensual; just as smooth, I heard it more in the sounds of Ashley taking off the rest of her clothes, tight fabric stretching along her skin in that downward motion. Patient impatience, she stayed there in my bed, covered in warmth and waiting for me.

I stayed here for this moment, for now, grappling with this feeling: that same haze from her had filled my chest and my stomach, combusting in this swell of my own needs, over and over again. I could have done anything for her, _absolutely anything,_ without thinking twice. Whatever she wanted, whatever she required, I needed to give to her, to provide—and my pride was well and gone, this instinct of mine taking over, razing my old habits to the ground.

I could have fallen there to my knees if that was what Ashley wanted from me.

I could have stayed there in complete subservience, craving an order from her, catering to her.

For the time being, she requested, "Come here, Shepard. Don't keep me waiting… I need you."

Ashley's raw need was what turned me around: invisible strings, with me as her willing subject.

This natural part of me, she had tapped into without trying, luring me closer as I went back to her.

Lightlessness of this room, brightened only by the chilled hues from the aquarium: Ashley still had that mist in her eyes, so eternally beautiful, divine, and sublime.

Careful to not set my weight anywhere near Ashley's still-healing arm, I joined her underneath the comforter, the sheets, both warmed by her body heat, ten times more now that I was here. Blind in her devotion, she opened her bare legs to accommodate me beneath this comfort. Smoothness of those legs: she hooked them around me in protest, trying to bring me closer, trying to press me up against her.

Ashley used her hands to tug at me, at the waistband of my sweats, snapping it.

"I want these off," she ordered. "And I want you closer to me. You're way too far."

I did as she said, leaving my boxer briefs on.

Hiding from her, I settled my head next to hers, breathing in this fresh, clean smell of her hair over the pillow beneath her. Even as I did this, I kept my knees bent just enough, not letting myself close this distance between us. Not yet.

Ashley held me as close as she could anyway. She settled her left arm across my shoulders again, and slipped her other hand under the thinness of my tank top. Her determined touch seared the skin over my back and the mild coat of sweat there, coating more from having her like this with me. This heat from her body, supporting me, shaped in her sex appeal so unbelievable: the fine shape of her hips, this perfect comfort from her chest underneath mine, the way she wrapped her long legs around me in certainty and in care, and this endless love radiating from her, everywhere.

Still, it had been a while since I'd done this. I felt myself getting caught up in this pressure to _perform._

Not knowing the same, Ashley warmed my neck with her lips, roaming.

I let some of my pressure dissolve away with these soft sounds of her breaths, of her own efforts.

But as I reached over to the nightstand, to the drawer, Ashley stopped me.

I tried to explain, "Ash, it's just…"

"I know," she whispered, still kissing my neck. "I know… I need you raw, so don't."

"There won't be a mess."

"Yeah. We'll get to that later—when it's right. I trust you."

Too aroused by Ashley's trust, I stopped thinking nearly as much.

I let my hand move down between me, over this tightness nearly coming out on its own. More pressure here, physically, just from the discomfort of needing to get this out—it helped that Ashley was still fixated on my neck, my shoulders, shifting my hair out of her way as she needed. So I eased some of my discomfort away, pulling this out from the layered fabric that made this opening. Keeping these clothes on, keeping some semblance of control helped me to not lose myself early.

Slim, reasonable length, not too thick at the base: I didn't want to overwhelm Ashley again. Not like this. I didn't want to hurt her. Easing more, I held this head, my hand wrapped just over the tip. Grazing her, not wanting to seem uncertain, I touched Ashley just enough, soaking my own hand with this slickness of her, enticing in shape, in the way she folded over my fingers in an angel thinness. Heavenly in sound, Ashley breathed against me, anticipation softening and soaking her so.

Lubricating myself with her, she sighed harder from this up-and-down motion of my hand, and from the sensations of the movements shafting through to her from this tip, touch echoing.

Restrained depravity—Ashley pulled at my boxer briefs, at my shirt and at me, needing me _right now._

"Take me, Shepard," she said, still pulling. "I can't keep waiting anymore… I can't."

Angled just right, I only slipped this tip inside of her, head pulsing from how fucking tight she was.

Even when I groaned over this tightness, about to pass the hell out, Ashley didn't give a damn—she kept pulling, and pulling, pulling me by my waist and pulling me inside of her. She moaned and panted from this physicality, this novelty as much as she responded to my grunting, hard enough to clip my throat from how hard she kept me, from how much harder she made me. Absorbing me, I felt more and more lightheaded, finally feeling this sum of her experiences, this deep, while she kept pulling me in, pulling me in, needing me here—farther and farther, nearly there, nearly there—

I heard Ashley's telling breaths before my awareness caught up to her.

Expanding, expanding, she had pushed through this stretching pain, only letting it hit her now that I was all the way in, shaping her as mine again, even more this time.

Ashley gripped me around my back, shuddering beneath me; not breathing enough. "Oh, fuck, it hurts… _Fuck!"_

"Breathe, Ash," I told her, modeling the same: low, deep. "Just breathe for now… You'll get used to it."

Mirroring the very contractions of my lungs, Ashley listened to me.

She struggled, and she gripped me more in this widening ache of hers, but she kept breathing. She dug her nails into my back, not quite making me bleed this time, but she kept breathing. She shuddered harder from again feeling these echoes of my own body, straight through her this time: with every breath I took, she felt it inside of her, helping her enjoy this mangle of agony and ecstasy.

As tight as I remembered her around my fingers last night, this couldn't compare.

I had only pushed her upward in claiming her for myself. This was a little more permanent, sculpting her as mine—for as long as we did this on a regular basis. And soon enough, it wouldn't hurt her nearly as much anymore. Once her body knew me enough. Once her own physicality trusted me enough.

Picking up on Ashley's slowed, relaxed breathing, I moved my hands and my arms beneath her shoulders, holding her here for leverage.

Already addicted to the way she felt around me—so wet, so warm and so unwilling to let me go—I moved into her, slow in this natural, rhythmic motion. Ashley held me tighter, as tight as she was, angling her head back against this pillow. Breaths open to the night, she let go with me immediately, so much quicker than last time. Rocking underneath me, every light sound she made rocked with her, right with this unintentional rhythm of mine. Listening to her, I matched her reactions to my own movements, gauging and learning.

_I wanted to please her._

I wanted to please Ashley to no end, to the ends of everything, putting her well ahead my own needs.

Feeling her on this intuitive level, I mapped this lesson:

Direct thrusts worked for her, but only as a warm-up. Ashley enjoyed them as a break, as a transition. If she needed to catch her breath for whatever reason, then these would work. Not just in and out, in and out. That was tactless, tasteless. How I moved, it was always deliberate, filled with every part of me. I knew she at least appreciated that, stringing her arousal up a slight slope, and never decreasing.

I found her tolerance point for sharpness, at the very top of her. At least for now, she didn't like pain that was too sudden, too sharp—the groans she let out leaned too close to discomfort, even though she didn't grip me any harder or lessen her hold. _Hard and fast_ would have to wait for another night.

Angling the base of me highest against her clit did wonders. Almost trembling Ashley out of her mind, I focused here, trying to not stay in my head, or to start thinking too much again. Cadenced in how much I loved her, reliable in the same ways: I moved with my lower back first, undulating into her, slow, steady, and deep, all the way into her in patience and reflection. And back out, but only slight, giving me just enough room to move back inside of her. The romantic in her craved this so much, keeping me going.

Pacing myself, pacing myself, I stayed at this stride.

Moving into her more, deeper, I gave the same to this side of her face nearest to me, kissing her here. As much as Ashley pulled me closer, reacting to me in pure want through her voice, I deepened my lips against the set of her jaw, breathing in the mild sweat over her skin. Always as this mirror, I pressed my open mouth to her as I rolled into her more, so far between her, as the same motion.

 _"Shepard,"_ she breathed, pitched higher. And higher, sucking her words in before gasping them out: "Shepard…how are you doing this?" I wouldn't stop, and Ashley held me closer. I kept going, and Ashley moaned more, needing more even as she begged to know, _"What are you doing to me…?"_

Helpless in those questions, she heated my face even more, hotter than we were beneath this comforter, between the sheets. I knew she liked this temperature, I knew she wanted this closeness; I wrapped my arms around her, underneath her, shifting her weight, her whole body with me. This shape of her smooth skin, her fine muscles, and her perpetual softness pressed between my fingers, against my palms, hooked into the bends of my arms—I memorized it all, mapping it with the way Ashley started shaking just as hard as I held onto her, sounding the same, sounding the same.

Hypnotized, enthralled by her, the words fell out from me, all kissed against her— _"Ashley, I need you."_ —and she moved higher in place, almost there, almost there—"I'll do anything for you. Sacrifice anything. Whatever you need from me, babe, it's yours." Right there, right here against me: "I love you, Ash… _I love you._ I love you so much." Sharpness of her breaths, and her hold, vice-like, she kept compelling me, pulling these raw emotions straight out from me. "I can't breathe without you. I can't…I just can't—"

Almost pained, but I knew better— _overwhelmed,_ Ashley clamped around me deeper than ever before, everywhere, all as she cried out my name without crying, without letting herself do it. That only sign of holding back, yet still, the floodgates rushed past the rest: tightening her legs against me, Ashley gave into her release, of all that I had given her. Whatever else she held back, I couldn't blame her, because she gave me this sublime significance right back, completing me.

Everything I had imagined with her, Ashley had somehow given me ten times more than that.

I saw, heard, and felt pure perfection in her.

And when she relaxed beneath me, she couldn't say a word.

I did want to laugh, though.

Ashley had said she wanted to go all night.

She'd wanted me to keep going for as long as possible, until we _had_ to sleep.

Already, though, I felt her drifting off, so far-gone in her space high above. Even when I pulled out, despite not wanting to yet—taking my time, and not too fast—Ashley didn't quite react. She wasn't here anymore. She couldn't keep going long enough for me to take my turn, but that only amused me more.

I moved so that I could lie down over my back properly. Still under these sheets and this comforter, Ashley moved with me without thinking on her own: next to me, she set her head over my chest, holding me like this as I held her close. And she was out right away. No words, no movements, her breathing deepened. Her weight over me grew a little heavier, relaxed. Out like a light, again.

Eternally amused by her, I was still wide awake.

I figured I'd take care of this lingering, upright problem of mine in a bit, on my own, once I knew for sure that Ashley wouldn't wake up.

Until then, I checked my omni-tool, silenced automatically at this late hour. I still kept Ashley in my hold, raising my arm and my hand just behind her head to do this.

I found an alert, an email from the Alliance: this standard reminder I received every year around my birthday, reminding me to look over my life insurance, my will, and then re-submitting the forms as normal. I was so used to auto-submitting these things as saved without bothering to review them first. And I was about to do the same now out of habit, until I realized:

Ashley may have enjoyed believing that I was invincible, but we both knew better than that.

Having her in my arms like this, I remembered that I didn't have anyone listed as my next-of-kin and power of attorney.

If anything happened to me on Ilos, my belongings and collections, my omni-tool files and passwords, all of my credentials and permissions, and all of my money would have disappeared into the void. Not literally. But without anyone to officially pass them down to, it might as well have been that way.

I knew that it was technically way too soon for any of this.

 _Technically,_ it was.

But with so many unknowns waiting for us on this next mission, I didn't see the point in playing this safe.

I finally put a name down as my next-of-kin in my will—the only name that made sense.

Finally, after having avoided it for so long.

Even after I saved the new information and submitted the forms, I felt myself grappling with my mortality again, in ways that I'd avoided every other time I had re-submitted these things without bothering to look them over.

Anything could have happened to me. I had to accept that.

As I did, I started clinging to this strange notion that I was _ready,_ holding Ashley close to me through my near-sleepless night; and trusting and hoping that I wouldn't ever have to let her go.


	17. Ilos – The Ones Who Tried Before

**XVII.** Ilos – The Ones Who Tried Before

_(Ashley)_

In the middle of the night, I somehow managed to open my eyes, still feeling like I was way up higher. Halfway high, halfway weighed down, my awareness kept me in this limbo, letting me at least realize where I was. Because even halfway high felt more real, more addicting than anything I'd ever experienced before. The actual thing—the actual feeling, the memory of it had me stirring again, wanting Shepard all over again, even though I was barely awake.

Here in her arms, listening to the way she breathed right by my ear, awake.

_We had time._

Shepard felt me. I felt her as she moved me over my back. She didn't wait, she didn't have to ask—getting on top of me, she tasted my neck in such a sweet adoration, so moving. Lowered volume of her music still playing for us, I loved how warm she was, how insistent she was, right up against me: she almost didn't want to wait. She couldn't contain herself. She needed me without a word, fulfilling me.

Cascading her hair back in my hold, I asked in a half-tired voice, "Shepard…didn't you sleep?"

"I slept enough," she grunted, reaching down to spread my legs wider. I moved with her touch with ease. "I want you, Ashley—while we still have time. I can't get enough of you. I swear I can't—"

Letting her take me like this in her insistence, I fell into her so much harder. Even with my arm still sore like this, I could block it out, overwhelmed way more by Shepard loving me. Even with these terrible memories from the past couple of days nudging at my mind, Shepard pushed most of that away for me, giving me all of her. This curved shape of her feelings, this pulling perseverance of mine: she filled me up all the way, never wanting to leave, never wanting to stop.

So much easier than last time without that stretching pain, it didn't take long at all for her to raise me right back up. Gripping around her, clenching, I let her hear me, just in her ear, knowing how much this turned her on—but not enough, still not enough, since she was so focused on pleasing me.

Stroking this length of her hair, I loved this feeling of her length still in me, even afterward.

After she gave me this next high, I wanted her to keep going.

Loving her more, I whispered the obvious, "Don't stop… Please don't stop. Keep going. I want you to use me, Shepard. Use me to get off. I know you want to…" I remembered that I'd fallen asleep way too soon earlier; fresh with this embarrassment I felt, Shepard made it so much better when she kept going, kept going, groaning low and deep. "I love hearing you like this. You're so sexy, and I need you. Don't stop. Don't ever stop…"

Repeating the same, goading her—I smiled more the louder Shepard sounded, the more she let go with me. Harder she went, fucking at me in just the way I needed, even if everything between me felt dulled right now. I loved that this wasn't about me. I loved feeling her like this, listening to her like this, and that she fucked me hardest as she came, grunting my name in a barely-controlled heat, so satisfying.

Actually being useful for her like this reached at something wonderful in me. Having Shepard crave me like this to the point where she only stopped for a few minutes to breathe, to recharge, and to let this dullness between me go away, before continuing—I finally _believed_ with nothing in the way. Surrounded by this hot temperature underneath the comforter and these sheets, smelling me as much as I smelled the scented sweat coating her skin—I stopped caring about those fucking obstacles in our way, stopped letting those memories from my almost-murder haunt me, and from _her_ threats after the fact. Surrounded more by Shepard's light weight that somehow made me feel small in a way that sustained me, I could memorize the flex of her muscles over her long back, the shifts of her strong shoulder blades underneath my palms and my fingertips, setting the rest aside as much as I possibly could.

I couldn't let any of that get to me. Not anymore. Not with how perfect Shepard felt, her sex drive going and going for me non-stop:

We kept going like this for as long as we could.

Delayed, but I _had_ said that I wanted her to go all night long.

Shepard gave me more, over and over again, until I eventually fell back asleep with her still inside of me.

When I woke up again, I was alone in her bed.

But as I moved around a bit, sheets still warm over my bare skin, I heard Shepard nearby. The blue of her room had somehow distilled into a colorless tint instead, the water shining from her aquarium dimming to the same grayscale. Whether I had lost the color of my sight or not, I couldn't tell right away—not as I looked at Shepard next to the bed at her holo-closet, wearing the all-black of her N7 stealth suit and combat boots already. I knew my sight wasn't off once I spotted the brilliant colors of her hair, just as she finished tying it into that gorgeous, taut tail of hers, flowing down to her back in a straight-edged seriousness.

Realizing that I was awake, Shepard turned around and found me staring up at her.

That rare richness of her smooth smile, saved just for me: she leaned down to me here, giving me this smile of hers over my lips, not caring about the sleep that lingered over me, everywhere. She replaced my taste with hers, with her cinnamon toothpaste. I pulled her into me more, as much as she would let me, even as her neck flexed under my hands with her efforts to not give into me again, all over again.

"Hey," she murmured into my mouth, her deep voice rumbling through me.

"Hey…"

Shepard wanted to know, "How'd you sleep, babe?"

I grinned, since it was so obvious. "Better than ever—like you wouldn't believe."

"I'm glad to hear it," she replied, satisfied. "We're not far from Ilos now. You should start getting ready."

Back to reality, back to facing _her_ —my stomach sank somewhere underneath the bed.

Sensing enough of how I felt, Shepard had that red blanket ready, bundling me with it. "Come on, Ash," she encouraged, gentle. "We'll eat something here first. Once you finish showering, I'll help you get dressed. Do you still want me to put your armor on down in the cargo hold?" Having lost my voice somehow, I only nodded, needing that comfort from her attentions on me. "All right. I guess we have an excuse, since your arm is probably still sore. Like you said, if the others ask, we'll just ignore them."

Sitting on her couch, we shared this quiet breakfast together. Even though my appetite was pretty much gone, I still made myself enjoy this weakness of hers, this warm cinnamon bread, and this flavor that I had started to love as much as she did. I opened my appetite in the same way that I'd opened myself to Shepard's promises to me yesterday on the Presidium, letting myself trust that she meant every word.

I couldn't picture the actual process of opening up to her about all of this.

And as I took a shower alone in Shepard's bathroom after we finished eating, I had a much harder time thinking that _she_ would accept the fallout. Then again, when she had said those words to me—about knowing my every thought, my every emotion, my intentions—I had felt her somewhere in me, sticking her nose where it didn't belong, as if the blue of her skin had frozen me in that fear.

I didn't feel Liara in the same ways anymore. I hadn't since yesterday, since that talk with Shepard during our date. Not having that intruding presence had helped me to come back around sooner.

Now that I had to actually see her again, and try to work with her on the same team again, I felt myself about to withdraw back into my old protectionist habits, _again._

Instead, I leaned on Shepard way more.

I felt like I could really rely on her like this.

And even though she didn't know the full extent of my problems, she was still here for me, so caring and sweet.

Sitting on Shepard's couch again, the way she dressed me, she made me feel whole again. These attentions from her, in her attention to detail, strict but soft as a perfect balance and blend of both—she stayed on bended knee in front of me as she put everything on, leaving me to move my limbs as she needed me to. I loved the way she kept her body close to mine as she put on my bra: N7 embroidery from her suited chest against my bare one, Shepard felt so warm against me as she tightened these straps. I loved the way she held my legs in her hands, one at a time, as she pulled up this tightness of my under-armor, up to my waist: the vague ride from accommodating her, I loved even more, getting to leverage my weight as I draped my arms around her neck, feeling her move for me like this. And she did the same with my under-armor shirt, long-sleeved, careful to not move too quickly with my left arm, and just as careful to set my damp hair back the way I wanted it.

Pushing away this high was a little easier than I thought, what with so much riding on this mission.

We had stolen the _Normandy_ to get to Ilos, to stop Saren from finding the Conduit. But even with how loyal I was to the Alliance—whether they deserved my loyalty or not—I couldn't mind the mutiny, not one bit, because Shepard had decided for all of us. I trusted her judgment more than anything, more than my own at a time like this. She knew that I would follow her anywhere, no matter the risk, and so we'd really had no need to mention any of it, or to bother talking it over. We already knew how we felt.

She wouldn't let any damned politics stop her from completing the mission, and I loved her more for it.

Once we made it to the armory with the others, I focused on Shepard with this love. Even if this was all too good to be true, I let myself fall so much harder for her, having her touch on me like this. The way she strapped me into my red and black armor, completely focused on me, not caring that Garrus, Wrex, and Tali stared from time to time, with Liara forcing herself _not_ to stare: Shepard made it clear that I was her main focus. Focused on her in the same way, I knew she saw it in my eyes, how I couldn't look away from her, and how I adored her _so much,_ I almost couldn't stand it.

This fetish of mine reinforced me, helping me focus up for whatever awaited ahead.

And everything was amazing…in this moment.

But then I remembered—Joker had snuck us onto Ilos, between all of those geth fleets that were here with Saren, their ships practically clouding over the planet's skies. He somehow had to maneuver the ship, getting us the perfect drop in the Mako to follow after Saren's path down on the ground. And Saren had scattered tons of geth planetside to deal with us, to stop us from following him, or from finding the Conduit before he could. So I really didn't have any time left to keep daydreaming.

Besides, as soon as Shepard had finished suiting me up, Tali walked over to her, cautious, carrying a couple of datapads in her hands. One was a bunch of records and Reaper diagrams, while the other had those capital-class Reaper schematics, the same class that Sovereign was. Or so I'd heard, anyway.

"Shepard, I finished unencrypting those notes," said Tali, handing them to her. "I know we're about to touch down soon… Perhaps this isn't the best time. I think…you'll want to see this regardless."

"Thanks a lot, Tali," replied Shepard, accepting the files. "I appreciate it. I'll take a look now, then."

 _Looking_ turned into shock and horror—quieted, but focused and undeniable.

This fear and trembling in Shepard's eyes…I had never seen anything like it from her before.

Even the sunlight from her skin seemed to dim, going pale as she read everything over.

And once she set the datapads together, one over the other, lining up something there, I watched as her own helplessness grew. Shepard didn't have to say a word, either. Not even as the others stared at her staring, trying to make sense of her fears. Not even as Tali lowered her head, avoiding the obvious that she had seen whatever this was, too, and that she felt just as helpless, just as powerless. For some reason, Tali had the hardest time looking at _me_ , like she was scared for me, sympathetic…

That sense of powerlessness from both Shepard and Tali weighed down our descent onto Ilos in the Mako.

Those same emotions cut us short as we landed right behind Saren disappearing into an underground bunker with his geth, those massive doors shutting behind him.

We all got right back out of the Mako, stepping outside to Ilos' surface, ancient with ruins. Dead plants webbing everywhere over these old Prothean statues, decorative spires rising to the geth fleets above, and somehow-sturdy walls separating all these different gardens from each other: Ilos looked all the same color to me, the same as this deadened overgrowth everywhere. Even Liara managed to appreciate these surroundings. She let herself get lost in this majesty of the Protheans for the moment, going back to that old, innocent inspiration she had when we'd first met her, back when I had assumed so much about her, too much that had ended up biting me in the ass.

Since Shepard was more or less indisposed, even though she was standing right here next to me, I took the lead, telling everyone, "We need to get inside this bunker! Looks like the doors are locked now, but Saren must've found some kind of security override. Let's find it fast and follow after him, before he gets to the Conduit."

Garrus and Wrex acknowledged me out loud— _"Chief."_

Tali nodded to me, still avoiding my eyes, still hurting for me in sympathy and empathy both.

Liara eased herself back here with us, to the mission, prepared to follow, and without looking at anyone.

Shepard was still lost somewhere in her head, but she let herself follow me; let me keep leading us.

I took point, heading opposite the bunker doors and out to the open plaza. All these geth in our way: I ordered Tali and Garrus to get on those tech bursts, stripping the geth's shields. They did what I said right away, even if Tali still wasn't all there—she pushed herself for me, for now, knowing that we had to focus up, no matter whatever those notes from Benezia were about. Wrex and Liara didn't need to coordinate on their biotic explosions together—we took the geth out with simple gunfire, with me at the front, mowing down whatever got in my way, this soreness in my arm set aside and forgotten.

Shepard stayed at the rear, cloaking as she sniped all the ranged geth off in the distance, to keep them from breaching me and slowing me down. She never missed a shot, as usual, but she wasn't anywhere near as focused as she could've been. Whatever was on her mind had to be grim if even _she_ couldn't pull it together for the most important part of our operation, making me worry for her way more. She followed me on auto-pilot as we headed farther into these ruins, into these open plazas and gardens vined and wined with these dead plants and dead memories everywhere.

That death weighed down on all of us as we pushed through this maze-like place.

Killing more geth, and going up and down these elevators like labyrinths: I had this feeling that someone watched us somehow from somewhere nearby. Maybe those dead memories had manifested the Protheans, brought their spirits back from wherever their afterlife was; letting them watch us as we tried to follow in their footsteps. Thinking of it that way wasn't so bad…and it did make sense— _to me._

Still, I made sure not to touch anything. Especially those creepy, sagging statues everywhere, like wilting corpses sitting on top of some kind of pedestals. _Those_ were what seemed to keep an eye on us as we moved through these compounds and gardens everywhere. Like the Protheans' spirits had possessed the stone, living through it again.

I couldn't pin down how or why, but those spirits seemed to exist in pairs all over.

Not just one Prothean at a time.

Sets of two, together, like they were inseparable: they all watched us together, brimming with hope.

 _Hope,_ even though they had died such horrible deaths to the Reapers, but they believed in us somehow.

Eventually, after taking down a bunch of massive, geth primes in our way, we went up a ramp to a small, enclosed compound. We found that security override here. The panel glowed with that same pale, Prothean green I remembered from the beacons.

Shepard went up to the panel, interacting with it.

Some kind of static noise came out, and then an indistinct figure appeared, glowing in a pale light. This figure cut in and out with its light, moving parts spinning, revolving. Almost like a broken VI. Then again, after interacting with Sovereign's so-called VI form, I didn't want to assume that again. More static, more of those choppy sounds came out from this thing, whatever it was: I couldn't understand anything there.

Shepard understood. "Sounds like some kind of warning," she told us, her voice hollow. "The Protheans tried to get a message out about the Reapers attacking. It was probably too late."

Garrus asked, "Anything else you can make out?"

"Nothing much," she stated. "This thing is too damaged. The bunker should be open, at least."

I prompted her, "Should we get moving, Commander? Doesn't look like we'll get anything else out of this thing."

Shepard left the area first. "Move out."

Back down that ramp, we followed her into a hallway directly underneath where we had just been.

These lifeless plants and rotted trees in our way made it hard to tell where we walked. We managed to find another elevator soon enough.

As we exited the elevator, shadows and light beamed over us as we got to the area we'd started in. No more geth in our way, we made it back to the Mako safely. Back in the rover, and back on our way, through this creepy underground bunker with more dead trees with branches like skeletons—no one said anything when Wrex somehow ended up driving again. He was at least sober this time, and this path looked like it went straight through without any turns, so I guessed he was in the clear.

Liara was too stuck in her own head to drive again, anyway. So she settled for standing next to him, staring out at our surrounding area.

This straight path over a thin sheet of water took us through another compound. So high up, with so many pod-like things on the walls: this ceiling never seemed to end, with more of that pale light shining through, the same from that broken-VI-thing from earlier. A heavenly afterlife beamed down on us, everywhere.

That _hope_ from the Protheans seemed to glow there, guiding our way.

Getting a better look at those cylinders raising up along the walls, they looked like stasis pods. And there were so many all over the place: like a whole metropolis of them, glowing in the dark, and going on for miles, way farther out than I could see.

Sitting next to me, Shepard missed the sights. She was still lost in her thoughts, thinking back to what Tali had showed her before we set off. She had her arms folded, grappling with whatever that information was, like she couldn't believe it. As much as I kept worrying about her, something told me that asking about this directly was out of the question. Like Shepard needed to keep wrangling with this first. Like she needed to wrap her head around this whole thing before she could even think to explain any of it to me, to the rest of us.

Tali's mood hadn't changed, either. She definitely wanted to say something to me, to warn me, but she couldn't get the words out. Trapped in her silence, she just sat there next to Garrus, who was also concerned about these vibes from her and Shepard. Even Wrex seemed to have caught this infection of anxiety here in the Mako from his spot in the driver's seat—he shifted in his seat, uncomfortable, but kept driving on until he couldn't anymore, reaching a dead-end.

A thin waterfall of that pale light made a tall barrier over the space in front of us, up to that endless ceiling.

See-through and ethereal, I wanted to think we could have crossed it anyway.

Something about this energy from the light made it clear that we needed to stop here.

So we all got out from the Mako, stepping along this shallow water underneath our feet. Spotting another elevator along the wall nearby, we all went inside. Going down, way past more of those stasis pods lined up in the night of this facility, the ride seemed to last forever. More of Shepard and Tali's anxiety contaminated us, almost making me feel sick to my stomach. I somehow couldn't be mad at them, even though I wished they would just _say it already._ This gravity of their silence had kept those impulses from me so far, and that wasn't about to change now. Garrus, Wrex, and even Liara felt almost the same, distracted only by that lingering hope from the Protheans, from the ones who tried before to defend themselves from the Reapers, to survive, and to destroy the enemy, only to fail in the end.

When the elevator doors opened, we reached a long pathway in between more of those stasis pods. Nested there at the end of the path, right near a bunch of plants vining up the walls, we saw another control panel of some kind. That panel stayed there as our destination, bathed in the light peeking through to this part of the building.

We all walked toward that light, toward that panel, hoping for answers, hoping for solutions.

Cynical to the end, I had the worst feeling all of a sudden.

Shepard and Tali were unnerved for a _reason,_ after all. This had to be it.

As we got closer to the panel, that same damaged VI from before showed itself again.

And this time, when it spoke in a soothing, monotone, male-like voice, I could understand it, without all that static. This thing had definitely seen better days, though. It was on its last leg, hovering there in a tripped-out shifting of black and pale gold light. It made itself communicate with us, knowing that we were its last hope…if a VI could _feel_ hope, anyway.

"You are not Prothean," said the VI. "But you are not machine, either. This eventuality was one of many that was anticipated. This is why we sent our warnings through the beacons. I do not sense the taint of a forced Reaper indoctrination upon any of you. Unlike the other entity that passed recently. Perhaps there _is_ still hope after all."

Garrus spoke up, "Wait a minute. How come I can understand you this time? Why aren't you speaking the Prothean language?"

"I have been monitoring your communications since you arrived to Ilos. I have translated my output into a format you will comprehend. My name is Vigil. You are safe here, for the moment. But that is likely to change. Soon, nowhere will be safe."

Tali wondered, "What are you, exactly? You seem quite advanced to just be a simple VI."

Vigil replied, "I am a non-organic analysis system with personality imprints from Ksad Ishan, chief overseer of the Ilos research facility. I also specialize in identifying and measuring readiness ratings in those who departed this location in an effort to end the war. Those who did not meet the readiness threshold remained here where it was safe, hoping to improve their connections. I oversaw their methods and offered counsel whenever appropriate, despite my own limitations as a non-organic entity."

Somehow, Shepard went pale again, like she knew what that was all about. She used her omni-tool to record the conversation anyway.

I asked for her, "Why'd you bring us here, then? Seems like you led us to this place to talk to you."

"You must break a cycle that has continued for millions of years. But to stop it, you must understand, or you will make the same mistakes we did: the Citadel is the heart of your civilization and the seat of government. As it was with us, and as it has been with every civilization that came before us. But the Citadel is a trap. The station is actually an enormous mass relay. One that links to dark space, the empty void beyond the galaxy's horizon. When the Citadel relay is activated, the Reapers will awaken from their prolonged state of inactivity, and they will pour through. And all you know will be destroyed."

Wrex asked, "How could that happen? Why'd no one ever notice the Citadel's an inactive mass relay? You'd think someone would've picked up on it by now!"

"The Reapers are careful to keep the greatest secrets of the Citadel hidden," explained Vigil. "That is why they created a species of seemingly benign organic caretakers. The keepers maintain the station's most basic functions. They enable any species that discovers the Citadel to use it without fully understanding the technology. Reliance on the keepers ensures no other species will ever discover the Citadel's true nature. Not until the relay is activated and the Reapers invade.

"Such was our fate. Through the Citadel, the Reapers had access to all our records, maps, and census data. Information is power, and they knew almost everything about us. Their fleets advanced across every settled region of the galaxy. Some worlds were utterly destroyed. Others were conquered, their populations enslaved. These indoctrinated servants became sleeper agents under Reaper control. Taken in as refugees by other Protheans, they betrayed them to the machines. Within a few centuries, the Reapers had killed or enslaved nearly every Prothean in the galaxy. They were relentless, brutal, and absolutely thorough."

"But why?" asked Garrus, pained. "Why would the Reapers brutalize organic life like this? What do they get out of it?"

Vigil answered, "The Reapers are alien, unknowable. They are driven by motives and goals organic beings cannot hope to comprehend. In the end, what does it matter? Your survival depends on stopping them, not in understanding them."

Shepard seemed to only want confirmation from Vigil directly: "Then tell us how to stop them. Tell me what I need to do."

"The Conduit is only one key. Before the Reapers attacked, we Protheans were on the cusp of unlocking the mysteries behind mass relay technology. Ilos was a top-secret facility. Researchers worked to create a small-scale version of a mass relay. One that linked directly to the Citadel: the hub of the relay network. Such connections are all linked, similar to the threads that bind organic life together. Ideas bound as synthetic and organic, the mass relays appear to operate on the same level."

"So the Conduit's not a weapon," figured Wrex. "It's a back door onto the Citadel."

"Correct," acknowledged Vigil. "Here in this facility, we maintained cryogenic stasis pods for the remaining survivors. However, during the long war against the Reapers, we could not hope to preserve all of them. With our power sources failing, I was forced to disable certain pods over time, as a result of my contingency programming. Eventually, only the stasis pods of the top scientists remained once the Reapers finally retreated back to dark space through the Citadel relay. These handful of scientists vowed to find a way to stop the Reapers from returning. A way to break the cycle forever with the keepers.

"The Conduit gives the one you call Saren access to the Citadel and the keepers. The keepers are controlled by the Citadel. Before each invasion, a signal is sent through the station compelling the keepers to activate the Citadel relay. After decades of feverish study, the scientists discovered a way to alter this signal. Using the Conduit, they gained access to the Citadel and made the modifications. This time, when Sovereign sent the signal to the Citadel, the keepers ignored it. The Reapers are trapped in dark space. But Saren can use the Conduit to bypass the Citadel's defenses, and transfer control of the station to Sovereign in order to manually open the relay. And the cycle of extinction will begin again."

Shepard needed to know, "Is there any way to stop that from happening?"

Vigil responded, "There's a data file in my console. Take a copy when you go. When you reach the Citadel's master control unit, upload it to the station. It should corrupt the Citadel's security protocols and give you temporary control over the station. It might give you a chance against Sovereign. Follow Saren through the Conduit, and you will find your destination. With sufficient support from your allied fleets, it will be possible to defeat Sovereign outright. Even a Reaper cannot survive such odds. They claim to be invincible, yet we one day learned that this is not true."

Again, Shepard only seemed to want more confirmation: "How's it not true? What do you mean by that?"

"We stumbled upon a solution by accident. While the Protheans were subjugated by the Reapers, we observed that some of us outright resisted their indoctrination. Once we learned that this was possible, many of these individuals sacrificed their lives to climb inside the Reapers' forms. Searching for a weakness to exploit, they managed to find one that only existed within the capital-class ships: a backdoor seemingly left behind by their own creators. There is a chamber near the top of their large forms that, when activated by an organic species, temporarily disables the Reapers' shields and the Reaper itself. Without their shields, they are open to destruction by conventional warfare."

"How many Reapers did you manage to destroy after exploiting that backdoor?"

"Not many," said Vigil. "A small handful of capital-class ships fell prey to our exploitation. When the ships were disabled, the smaller Reaper ships and other units in their network also became vulnerable, eventually falling to what remained of our fleets. By this point, the Protheans were nearly defeated. It was only a matter of time until we fell. We still tried to replicate these victories as often as we could. After losing so many of the individuals who discovered this backdoor, we had difficulty finding any more of them. We attempted to send synthetic units to the chambers instead, yet they were unable to activate the controls to disable the ships. Our only hope was to replicate our organic immunity to indoctrination. Many analysis systems like myself were created to help further this cause. But it was already too late."

Liara finally said something, "What made these organic individuals so special? Why were they immune?"

"Certain groups of civilians and soldiers resisted the Reapers' indoctrination. Once shunned as outcasts, or _deviants_ in our society, they were already 'indoctrinated' by one another in the deep connections they shared. This cancelled out the Reapers' forced efforts. It did not matter that the Reapers were infinitely more powerful than they were. Across our great empire, the Prothean philosophy in imperial domination was _one mind, one master._ This referred to one individual, one government, one people united. Through our physiology, how we communicated, we unlocked the unknown mental secrets of our collective unconscious. We as a species became capable of developing this unique immunity."

"And when the Protheans uplifted my species, the asari, did you pass down these gifts to us?"

"Yes, the Protheans gave these gifts to the asari," confirmed Vigil. "But your people could only inherit the potential to replicate our methods. Even when observing other species, such as the humans in their earliest stages, they possessed the same potential without our guidance, due to their naturally strong willpower. It is possible for any organics to develop this immunity to Reaper indoctrination, as long as they maintain the same deep connections with another person. However, all non-Protheans lack our means of communicating with each other. Without our ancestral experiences, other organic species are doomed to fail. But I sense that one among you is different."

A cone of light, gravitating up and down: Vigil scanned Shepard in the middle of our group.

As it did, the implications from this whole conversation so far started to get to me.

What Vigil had already said, what it hadn't said; how distant Shepard was and how Tali felt sorry for me—I felt sick to my stomach. I swallowed it back, all the way back. Even when Wrex and Garrus seemed to pick up on everything, I couldn't look at them looking at me in worry. I kept on swallowing my emotions down. I kept standing here at Shepard's side, with this same feeling of insignificance weighing down on me again.

All over again, Virmire repeated itself.

Like no matter how much I loved Shepard, no matter how strong or loud or powerful or unrelenting my feelings for her were, none of it mattered compared to this…

"Yes, you are capable," said Vigil, finishing its scan. "Commander Shepard, you are unique among your kind. You are fully prepared. You are ready to replicate what we have done. The natural willpower of your species has been greatly enhanced in you, in ways that only the very best of our saviors could achieve. You are immune to Reaper indoctrination. You can disable any capital-class Reaper ships through their backdoor, their weakness. You can continue our legacy and end the cycle once and for all."

Accepting this duty, Shepard stepped forward.

Forward, away from me.

I turned away from everyone, still holding this back, holding it back—

Shepard noticed, "You make it sound like I'm the only person who can pull this off. Is that what's going on here?"

"That is correct. Your power has been opened and unlocked by the Ciphers in your mind belonging to our species. You possess our collective unconscious, our ancestral memories. Built and seasoned after the 50,000 years since our destruction, your abilities have merged with ours, creating an impenetrable immunity in you. You stand on the shoulders of those who tried before. We have lifted you. The individual with which you share a deep connection has lifted you to even greater heights. You are ready to achieve the impossible."

"And the person I have this connection with…are they here with us now?"

"Yes," replied Vigil, about to end me. "I sense their true, undying faith in you. It is a powerful emotion without compare. I see their everlasting devotion for you, unrestrained by the boundaries of space and time." Feeling Tali's eyes on me, Wrex's eyes and Garrus' eyes, I buried my face in my hands, _agonized._ "So long as you continually reinforce your connection with this person, you will be safe. I see that it is strong now, but it may diminish in the future, as with any connection. If this happens, then you will fail as we did. Your immunity is only as powerful as their belief in you, and your trust in their belief."

Insignificant, expendable, worthless, meaningless:

Vigil's words shattered something in my head all over again, breaking my heart along with it.

This same fucking devastation that Liara had forced on me all those months ago came flooding back, only worse, so much worse. And I had to break my own voice, my own lungs to keep from letting anyone hear me, but they knew anyway. Tali, Wrex, and Garrus stayed by me, right behind me from where I stood here with my back to them, hiding—hiding from them, from Shepard, _from Liara,_ from Vigil; from this inescapable reality that wouldn't let me go, wouldn't let me be free for once in my damn life!

Nothing I did mattered.

Nothing I felt mattered, not at all.

None of the love that Shepard had made to me mattered; none of the love I had given back to her mattered at all in the face of this. I had given her all of me last night, and the night before; I had given her everything I was over these months; I had longed for her with everything in me for _years_ before we met, knowing that my dreams of being with her were probably impossible.

And now I saw for certain that those dreams were impossible—definitely, officially.

Nothing in me could compare to this, to this one thing I could never compete with…

But just like the fool I was, I knew I'd never let go of her. I would love Shepard anyway. I loved her—so damned much. _I loved her,_ and not even my own meaninglessness could stop me from feeling this way.

Fading away already, Vigil gave its last words, "The one you call Saren has nearly reached the Conduit. Once he activates it, there will be a time limit to follow after him. Should you fail to reach the Conduit in time, it will close, and it will remain inaccessible. You must stop Sovereign from manually activating the Citadel's mass relay, bringing the Reapers out from dark space. They will find another way, another day. For now, you must prevent the Reapers from returning while you are unprepared to face their vast numbers. And when they return in force, carry on our legacy. End the cycle once and for all with your devotion. You are our last hope."

As Vigil disappeared, that pale light gone forever, no one moved or said anything for a moment.

They just stood there, listening to me restrain myself, listening my heart break one piece at a time.

But we didn't have _time_ for me to lose it like this.

We didn't have the space, or the freedom to let me go through this breakdown—so I stopped it as much as possible, as much as I could. Splitting my own forehead open like this, I had to deal with it. I wasn't allowed to fall apart while there was so much we still had to do.

We had to stop Saren.

We had to stop Sovereign, and stop the Reapers from coming back today, right now.

That was way more important than anything we felt in this moment, than what I felt in this moment.

Shepard knew the same. She stepped closer to Vigil's console, taking that copy of the data file, to use on the Citadel's master control panel once we got there. She then had us leave the area, going back to the elevator, back up to where we'd left the Mako, and back into the rover.

She sat next to me here in the back, again, saying nothing.

Liara sat on Shepard's other side, staying quiet; trying to figure out what to say to her.

Tali and Garrus sat together, somber in the same notes.

And again, no one said anything once Wrex started driving, hurrying us past where that barrier had been. On this long, winding road to the Conduit, he had to dodge more of Saren's geth, like on Virmire. Even though Wrex was sober this time, I wasn't sure if I trusted him to pull this off and get us to the Conduit in time. Like so much else today, we didn't have a choice. We were already on our way.

Too distracted with her own worries to care about that, Shepard stared down at the floor of the truck.

Still in pain, so much pain, all I could do was keep pushing this back. We had our mission. I had to fucking focus. No matter how much I wanted to stop everything and cry a river over this, thicker than the shallow waters we drove through past all of these geth, I just… _couldn't._

Liara set her hand over Shepard's arm, saying to her, "I understand that much of what Vigil said came as a shock to all of us. We needn't discuss anything right now. At some point, we _should…_ We will need to have a conversation about this, sooner or later."

Ignoring her, not ignoring her—Shepard had gone blank, unable to process anything anymore.

Selfish of me, I leaned against her a little, reminding her that I was here. Reminding myself that she was still here, no matter how far-gone she was, stuck in her own head. I couldn't blame her for feeling this way. Not at all. She had the weight of the entire galaxy on her shoulders now. And despite everything, I still wanted to support her, to help lessen even some of this pressure bearing down on her.

Right as we reached the incline leading down to the Conduit, that mass relay glowing and spinning, about to expire forever, this déjà-vu hit me, hit all of us—

Spinning out of control while dodging those geth, Wrex lost control—

Spinning out, flipping out, the Mako fell over on its side—

Spinning toward me, Shepard grabbed me on instinct. She cradled my head and gripped me, activating her augmentation to protect us both from the impact. Our shields initially kept us safe from that first snapping hit, making me feel like my neck was about to snap in half—the same for Tali and Garrus, with Liara and Wrex using their biotics again to float them through this bullshit for the second time—

And then we all crawled out through the door again, but without _time._ We stayed hidden behind the Mako fallen over on its side, shielding us from all the geth firing at us everywhere, with no _time_ left.

The Conduit was about to close, the backdoor onto the Citadel was about to close:

We didn't have enough time to deal with this again!

So full of shame—Wrex wouldn't look at any of us, _knowing_ that I wanted to rip him to shreds right now.

I was so pissed off, I didn't even notice that Shepard had let go of me, and that she wasn't here—not until it was too late. Not until I heard the sounds of Shepard's cloak shifting her to invisibility. Not until I heard her combat boots sprinting across the shallow waters. Not until I heard Liara shouting Shepard's name, about to run after her. Not until I saw Garrus pull her back, reminding her in a panic that the geth would rip through her kinetic barriers if she set foot past this fallen Mako in front of us.

Running away, running away…

Shepard ran away from us, bolting toward the huge light of the Conduit _all by herself._

 _"Shepard!"_ I yelled out, trying to run. Louder, echoing over this gunfire, over everything, "Shepard, you have to stop! _Don't do this!_ Stop running away!"

Tali grabbed me before I could go. "Ashley, please, you can't!" she cried. Gripping me, wrestling with my strength, stronger than her; "It's too dangerous! The geth will see you, and they'll tear you apart! We're surrounded! There are too many of them!"

Liara stopped fighting against Garrus, standing there with her head down. I wasn't about to give up, not like her!

"Damnit, Tali, we're NOT doing this!" I shouted, pushing harder, harder through these tears blurring my sight of that light. _"Let me go!_ I'm not letting Shepard do this alone! She could fucking die on the Citadel without us! Now move!"

Shaking her head against me, about to cry—Tali held me tighter.

As strong as she suddenly was, refusing to lose me, too, this blur fell from my eyes right on time.

Right on time, letting me see as Shepard reached that blinding light of the Conduit.

Alone, she passed through—the mass relay spun and spun more, sending Shepard off; shooting her now-uncloaked form through that distance to the Citadel, undeniable in her all-black stealth suit and brilliant colors, even from this distance. And then the Conduit shut off. Its bright core stopped spinning. That light gone, none of us could follow. Mass relay inactive now, none of us could go after Shepard. She was on her own now. She was by herself, as she wanted, as she preferred, those old habits swelling back up to the surface to protect her from this pain, this confusion, and this burden that she eventually had to deal with.

No one to support her.

She had ran off into that unknown without us.

Without me.

Nearly defeated, almost broken, I stayed like this in Tali's stubborn hold. I couldn't even realize that someone had called Joker for immediate extraction. I couldn't even perceive that Liara had _really_ given into her own fears and worries, going mute, expressionless somewhere over there.

I had to keep reminding myself:

This wasn't the worst yet.

 _By far,_ it wasn't.

That was the only thing that kept me going, getting back to the _Normandy_ and away from these geth. I had to step up again as the team's second-in-command. I ordered Joker to take us back to the Citadel. We had to find some way to support Shepard through this, to save her. Stubborn as I was, fresh with these sickening hopes of mine that refused to leave me: I couldn't let her down. Not for anything. I still, _still_ couldn't give up on us, no matter how pointless it all may have been.


	18. N7 Infiltrator

_"End Credits" from Shin Megami Tensei IV_

**XVIII.** N7 Infiltrator

_(Shepard)_

_Out of my control, my mind and my heart weren't my own anymore._

_At the mercy of someone else's influence, I risked losing it all if I ever lost her._

_My own capabilities determined by someone else's belief in me, someone else's devotion toward me—_

_My own skills didn't matter in the face of this, of the way she elevated me as a god in her undying love._

_Losing my sanity, losing my life if I lost her: what had I become?_

_I wasn't a person anymore. I was an idea. I was that belief. And if that belief changed, then so did I._

_And now, in the middle of this danger, all I could think of was her, what she'd given me, what we still shared:_

_These memories ached with the weight of tomorrow._

_With this ache, I had to wake up. I had to find myself. Otherwise, I'd fall apart without her. I would collapse without her. I would lose everything without her. I had to stand on my own. Take back control._

_My independence. My sovereignty. My own…free will._

Blaring, thundering, loud and deep—the sound rumbled through my head, arrogant and mocking.

Those same narcissistic, blustering blares from Sovereign, ego and esteem as a synthetic god:

They reverberated over and over again, all through me, warning me that I was doomed to fail, doomed.

Waking to the sounds of my omni-tool blaring, ringing in my ears, ringing from a call, ringing with desperation. My heart pounded in my chest with a stubbornness, a vengeance to keep me alive. Reminding me that I was here, reminding me of what I stood for—I could hardly stand this ache, aching more with this constant ringing, ringing.

I opened my eyes to the sights around me:

Enflamed, blazing—on my back, I had an upside-down view of a tree burning in yellow-hot embers. Those same fires raged on atop the still-lake not too far from me, ravaging the Presidium. Decimating the once-pearl white walkways as blackened ashes, most of the paths remained broken, turned to ashes, or collapsed and falling into that fiery lake. Mirrored as the same colors, the Citadel all around me had reddened in tint, the emergency alarms blaring and flaring in warning. Not another soul around, aside from the corpses floating through those flames of the lake, regular civilians and C-Sec officers alike had perished by the hundreds from what I could see.

Far above my head from where I lay here on the Presidium, the Citadel arms had closed, clamping off the usual artificial daylight here. The many glittering lights from the Wards along those arms had dimmed and died. Only webs and hints of the buildings' structures there glowed in the same emergency-red, entire cities' worth, once bustling with millions of citizens, now shut off and without life.

Even with these alarms going off, this place felt way too quiet.

Isolated.

That unused mass relay was nearby. None of the team had managed to follow me through the Conduit.

I felt like I might've been one of the few people still alive on this entire station.

Still lying down here next to the flaming lake and trees, I glanced around some more.

Not too far in front of me, the Citadel's asari VI, Avina, flickered in and out, spinning in place. Malfunctioning, she repeated her usual stock phrases for welcoming new arrivals, offering directions to places like the Upper Wards and the Citadel Tower, or providing historical details on the Council races, unable to comprehend the reality and the magnitude of what went on right now.

Not too far beside me was that outdoor ice cream place I had taken Ashley to on our date—it burned and burned alongside the trees here, the blackened corpses of the employees doubled over the front counter.

Far below where I was, perception and sight inverted, way beyond the burning trees in my way, I could've sworn I could see the sheen of gigantic blue-violet legs from a Reaper, from Sovereign, creeping and rattling in place like a spider, clawed somewhere.

That ringing sounded in my ear from my omni-tool again, insistent.

I answered the call this time.

 _"Shepard!"_ cried Ashley, her voice sounding as a godsend. _"Shepard, is that you!? You finally picked up—it_ has _to be you… Tell me you're still alive out there!"_

Blinking away this vertigo in me, I tried to speak, "I'm here, Ash…"

 _"Oh, thank God you're all right! We've been trying to reach you for an hour! You_ are _okay, aren't you…?"_

"Yeah, for now… Don't worry."

Ashley couldn't have called me like this unless she and I were located in the same system.

The same system as the Citadel with the Council fleets, the _Destiny Ascension._

She was _here_ with the ship, with the team, probably stuck outside, while I was stuck inside the Citadel itself.

She knew that.

That one thing, on top of everything else, made Ashley's breath hitch as she listened to me breathe. She controlled herself for a bit, sounding like she was on her way to another part of the ship, to be alone with me like this. I imagined she was on the bridge of the _Normandy,_ leaving to the empty command center.

Ashley held it together, but I heard how much she struggled.

"Talk to me," I requested, staring at these flames nearby. "Tell me how you're feeling."

Her soft laugh, at once cynical and relieved, thickened by her running nose. _"Honestly, I'm so mad at you… I'm pissed that you just bailed like that! Doesn't matter that it was for the mission. That's not what I'm focused on right now. You ran off. You ran away from me, with no warning at all! After what Vigil told us, do you have_ any _idea how much that messed me up?"_

"Ashley, I'm sorry… I was overwhelmed. I wasn't thinking anymore. It was just…"

 _"Your instincts,"_ she finished, sniffling. _"Yeah. I know. Trust me, I know… That makes it worse."_

Hating that I'd hurt her like this, I could only stare up at my sky, pained by her pain.

The mission was supposed to come first, but none of that mattered. None of that reached me—not after everything on Ilos, not after everything we'd learned. Not in the face of these things I couldn't let myself believe. Not when this seemed to be our new reality.

Ashley pushed this away as much as she could, needing to know, _"Where are you, Shepard? On the Citadel, I mean."_

"I'm on the Presidium," I told her, looking around some more. "There's an elevator nearby. I think I can use it to get to the Citadel Tower, find that master control panel. There's no other place it could be. I have to get there before Saren does."

 _"I don't like the sound of that… I know you have your cloak, but there are geth all over the station. Some of Saren's fleets flew in with Sovereign when the arms closed. He has the rest of his geth ships out here attacking anything that moves. The Council fleets and the Destiny Ascension are holding out fine now that the Alliance made it here. Is there_ anyone _around you that's still alive? C-Sec? Any soldiers?"_

I checked my schematics of the Citadel, scanning the entire station with my radar.

I picked up on Saren's signature somewhere down below, nowhere near the Citadel Tower yet, along with an army of geth covering every other location outside my immediate area.

All these corpses around, too: there was no denying the obvious.

Knowing that Ashley would worry more, I told her the truth, "I'm all that's left. Everyone else is dead."

_"Damnit… Anderson and Udina are with the Council on the Destiny Ascension. So they're safe. The captain said they were about to interrogate him when the attack started. I think he'll be fine. But all those other people, civilians—there were millions of them there on the station…"_

I reminded her, "And _trillions_ more will die if I don't do this."

_"I know. I know…"_

Ashley _knew,_ yet I felt her growing resistance, crossing this space that separated us.

This space, and her emotions clogging her throat—I couldn't ignore all the ways she still made me feel for her, even in the middle of so much uncertainty. I stayed here on my back, collecting the strength I needed to carry on. Collecting it from Ashley, from the way she hadn't given up, and from how she had kept going, fighting through her sorrow to get to me here, as much as she could.

And she still held herself together now, only letting the worst of her tears fall for me.

Because she knew Sovereign was here.

She knew what I was ready for.

She knew what else I may have had to do, if that was what it came down to.

"Hey, listen," I tried, gentler this time. "I have to do this. You _know_ that."

Knowing, her vulnerability nearly broke her voice, pleading with me, _"I don't want you to go…"_

Nearly breaking me all the way, my heart picked up more, picking up these pieces. Aching for her, Ashley had reached at a part of me I never knew I had, shuddering those old instincts straight out from me. Listening to her breathe like this, restrained only for the mission, her muted agony carried across to me no matter this distance, no matter our plight.

Burning alight for her, I couldn't help saying, "I love you, Ash."

Determination brimmed through her brief laugh instead of cynicism this time. _"I love you, too, Shepard… If anyone can pull this off, you can. Finish it soon, and come back home to me. I need you to—Skipper."_

"I will, babe. I promise."

Sniffling one last time, Ashley said, _"Call us back on the team's line, okay? They want to hear you. And we have something we want to ask. You're all alone out there, but we want to support you as much as we can. We're not taking no for an answer. Got that?"_

"All right. I'll call you back."

Right after we hung up, I switched to the team's frequency.

Sitting up first, at least, I'd found my bearings.

Renewed from my talk with Ashley, I could go back to my usual tone and tenor with the others.

I couldn't let them hear anything less from me.

"This is Shepard," I told them. "You there?"

Joker's voice burst through first, _"Commander, tell me you're not insane! I mean, you've pulled off some pretty crazy shit before. This is way worse than all of that combined! Are you seriously gonna solo the Citadel?!"_

"I don't have a choice, Joker. We're out of options here. Did everyone make it back to the ship?"

Garrus replied, _"We're all here and accounted for. Glad you made it to the Citadel in one piece, by the way. Just wish you weren't there alone. You had us worried back there."_

 _"Yes, you did,"_ agreed Tali. _"You really did… You had us_ very _worried. I'm relieved you're all right."_

 _"Wrex is on probation,"_ grumbled Ashley. _"He's sitting by the airlock. The rest of us are at the helm here with Joker, keeping an eye on the fleets outside."_

After Wrex completely fucked up for the second time in a row, I wanted to throw him out of that damn airlock as soon as I made it back there—right after I trashed that piece of shit Mako for myself…

Still, there were more important things I needed to focus on for the time being.

Feeling my stomach in knots now, I kept this discomfort out of my voice, "And Liara?"

The team went quiet.

Waiting, giving her a moment to respond. I knew she was there. I knew she was fine—physically.

But I also knew how Liara felt right now. Some of what she felt, anyway. I remembered that sleepy conversation we'd had during the first and only time she had slept with me in my cabin. Her concerns over my instincts, my habits of running away, and what she had predicted—I couldn't forget.

Tali spoke for her, gentle, _"Liara is_ here. _She's standing right next to me. But I think she's in shock… Or traumatized somehow. She hasn't said a word since we got back to the ship. She's just…staring at a wall. Completely blank. We tried getting through to her. It didn't work. I'm pretty sure she's listening, at least."_

If she wouldn't say a word now that she could hear me, then…

"Understood," I accepted, swallowing back this sting. "I have to get going soon. Ashley said there was something you wanted to ask me for. What is it?"

Joker requested, _"So, since you're gonna be the hero and all, we want to keep an eye on you, too. Any chance you could use your omni-tool to broadcast a live vid to the Normandy, here on my console? You know, to help us see where you're going, if you're okay. Like, yeah, we trust you. This is_ kind of _a big deal, though…"_

Something told me that Ashley was the one who came up with this.

Looking down at my omni-tool, I set up the live feed. I prioritized all audio to reach them through our radios instead, and then hit record.

Nearly everyone let out a sound of surprise once they saw my face again, scowling down at them out of habit from this angle. They reacted more from this sight of the rest of my surroundings. I hated cameras like this. I hated recording myself. This wasn't the time to protest any of that, since I did appreciate how much the team cared. I let them look at me for a bit longer before adjusting their view.

Changing the video to record from my eyesight instead, I heard their reactions again to seeing the rest of the Citadel directly from what I could see: those fires burning, the Avina VI flickering in and out of view, and all of these corpses, everywhere. I stood up with their worries, their concerns.

There was no turning back from this.

Even though I knew my way around, I brought my schematics for the station back up through my omni-tool. Knowing that the team watched every little thing I did, I routed a path from here to the Citadel Tower. I checked my radar as well: Saren was still a ways out from the tower. I had enough time to catch up before he could help Sovereign open the mass relay, before they could bring the Reapers back.

"I'm heading out now," I said, looking to that elevator off on the left side. "Keep me updated on the fleets. If they need you out there, then Ashley is still in command. I'm going into stealth mode, so I won't be able to speak freely. Not unless I absolutely have to."

 _"Roger that, Commander,"_ said Ashley, resolute. _"We'll be right here with you."_

Cloaking with her promise, I pushed on ahead.

Pristine white, untouched by the wreckage outside, I took the elevator up as directed.

Hearing everyone's varied, distinctive breathing in my head almost threw me off as I waited. Garrus seemed the calmest out of everyone. Tali sounded a bit fraught, fidgety. Joker kept mumbling curses in a worried sort of awe. Wrex sighed every so often, clearly blaming himself for my situation. Liara was quiet, so quiet, I almost couldn't hear her, yet that familiar, misty sense to her voice had filtered through to her breaths anyway, so ethereal.

As for Ashley, she stood out from the rest. The way she pushed through her own fears, breathing harder, more determined—it almost distracted me, because I wanted to say something to her. _Anything._ I wanted to take this all back; I wanted her here with me by my side.

Almost as a mirror of my own breaking, the lights cut out. The elevator stopped. Nearly throwing me off my balance from the suddenness, I pressed my hands to the glass out in front of me. Malfunctioning. I couldn't find an elevator panel to get this working again, and there was no emergency exit in here.

Glad that the team reined in their possible commentary, I saw my solution through their silence.

Rerouting with my omni-tool glowing in the dark, I found my alternative:

Outside past this glass, I had a clear path to take through the maintenance shaft filled with geth.

I put on my N7 breather helmet. I bent down, switching the settings on my shoes, changing them from combat boots to mag boots. Reinforcing my stealth suit, this would act as enough pressurized protection until I could make it to the Citadel Tower.

Firing my pistol, I blasted the glass open out in front of me.

Shards of transparency flying out, floating down and around: the lack of gravity sent those pieces everywhere. I looked down at that everywhere, balancing myself here. The closed arms, the emergency-red view of the Wards' cities lined and shining in an isolated danger—they stretched on and on across that endless drop. My mag boots caught me at the short fall from my own drop, switching my perspective.

Sovereign's claws lifted and settled again from where it sat in place just atop the tower, mocking me, again.

I ran toward it, for now, still cloaked as I made my way to the elevator's maintenance shaft. Lights along my new ground lighting my way, I listened for those geth as much as I stared at their positions here on my radar. Patrolling units of geth troopers, rocket troopers, and shock troopers—if any of them heard me, or spotted me, their pulse rifles or rockets could have easily taken me out. I had nowhere to hide in this place. So I needed to be smart about where I moved, how I moved.

I found the geth closest to the glass of the elevator, patrolling there with their weapons at the ready.

Crouch-walking along the walls, I maneuvered with my mag boots, up and up, and around.

Staying low, staying quiet, I avoided those geth. Staying far away from their mechanical stuttering sounds, I listened to them as closely as I could with the team's tense breathing in my ears. Staying on my own, I took no risks, keeping a fair distance from everyone and everything; keeping those hostile units in my periphery, sticking to the path ahead.

Just past here, I found more geth along with some of those same krogan from Virmire. Wielding shotguns and brute force, but mindless, they posed no threat to me. I snuck past their large, hulking forms.

Up a long ramp to a new area, I found a bunch of the Citadel's defense guns lined up.

I just had to make it past more of these guns, and back to the maintenance shaft.

As I found a safe spot to uncloak and sit for a moment, Joker had an urgent message:

_"We're getting a distress call from the Destiny Ascension! Looks like some smaller geth fighter ships snuck through their defenses. Geth units are aboard, and they're trying to assassinate the Council! Captain Anderson's there, but he doesn't have any weapons on him. He won't be able to help!"_

The Council, Ambassador Udina, _and_ Captain Anderson were all on that ship.

If it were only the Council, or Udina, I wouldn't hared nearly as much.

But the Council did believe in me. They had given me this once-in-a-lifetime chance to prove myself.

Ashley deferred to me, _"Commander, if you're free to give the order, I'll follow. If not, then I'll make the call. We can activate the Normandy's stealth systems and get through. Do you want us to help?"_

"You're clear, Chief," I responded. "Get to the _Destiny Ascension._ I'm not going to lose any sleep if you can't find Udina somehow. Save Anderson and the Council!"

_"Aye, aye, Sir! Joker, take us in. Everyone else, get your weapons from your lockers! Be ready to engage the enemy as soon as we make it aboard!"_

Joker and the others, except Liara, gave their verbal acknowledgment of Ashley's orders.

No one said anything to Liara, to snap her out of whatever debilitating shock she may have been in. I assumed she followed along with the group, setting the rest aside for the time being.

As they went, streaming my live feed to their individual omni-tools instead, I cloaked again, pushing on.

Geth ships converged around my location once I made it to the next area.

Saren had to know that I was here by now, and so he sent these dropships after me.

Still unseen, I activated the defense turrets around me, taking out those ships and stray units all at once.

The booming sounds of those turrets firing, the team's gunfire as they boarded the _Destiny Ascension,_ and Ashley's quick-time orders to everyone as she led them through: it all should've distracted me, especially once I switched back to stealth, sneaking past the rest of the geth and krogan still in my way. The ongoing turrets behind me masked the already-quieted sounds from my mag boots creaking in this effort to keep me grounded.

Listening to Ashley's tactics, I approved of how she'd chosen to prioritize speed over efficiency.

I would've done the same in her position.

_"Tali, hack the geth on our left flank! Make them waste time fighting each other! We need to push ahead, faster!"_

_"Right, I'm on it!"_

The team kept an eye on me even during their assault on the geth on their end. Even though they trusted Ashley to lead them, I felt the way they fought harder, just from getting to stay with me through their omni-tools.

If I fucked up somehow, then that would throw them off in the worst possible ways.

Yet another reason to stay as silent as possible, pushing my tactical cloak as hard as it could go.

_"Garrus, get these shields down for us! We don't have time to force our shots through!"_

_"You got it, Chief!"_

Seismic vibrations from the defense guns punching my eardrums, I crossed this long, long path of more turrets, more geth dropships. Shining lights from the Wards and the Citadel arms as my ceiling, the air around me felt as a war zone, with every single enemy focused on finding me, one way or another. Units of geth platforms had started shooting their pulse rifles in random directions, trying to catch me. The geth ships did the same with their weapons, at least until the Citadel's defenses took care of them.

I stayed low and kept my head down, following the path of destroyed dropships to the next safe location.

_"Wrex, help Liara control the crowd behind us! When you're done, meet us in the next room!"_

_"Helping with those detonations now!"_

Existing on the opposite end of these geth, and constantly shifting to meet that existence—

No matter my invisibility, I wished I were a ghost, otherworldly and untouchable.

Dodging these geth was too much like avoiding mines out in a field.

Mines that kept changing locations, changing directions, changing in size and scope and destructive power.

This labyrinth of a minefield, I did my best to navigate anyway, knowing that I couldn't make this any easier. I couldn't use my pistol or my sniper rifle. I couldn't fire a single shot, otherwise I risked alerting the enemy to my location. If they converged on me, I wasn't sure if I would be able to run away in time. If I'd had the team with me, then we could have charged through, killing everything in our way, together. By myself, I had to focus on survival. Not like Torfan, where I'd had the range and the opportunity to snipe down every batarian in my way, getting rid of anyone nearby who could have compromised me somehow.

The entire Citadel was a maze of compromises, of compromising situations right now.

Even dealing with the beginnings of a splitting migraine from my implants tearing at my brain, I kept going anyway. Intent on finding a safe spot in between these blasting landmines of geth platforms and their dropships, I only needed a few seconds to uncloak. Uncloak, reset, and find my bearings. And I couldn't make a sound, either, not even to groan over this discomfort. The geth might've heard me. The team might've heard my weakness and lost focus, lost morale.

Hearing Ashley's continued directives and the sounds of fighting on her end helped me again, more.

Rounding a sharp corner, I found my way back to the maintenance shaft; found a safe spot to breathe for a moment. Double-checking to make sure I was alone, I dropped my cloak. I sat down on the ground, breathing, listening.

No one was nearby. Nothing was over here, save for the glass of the elevator shaft in front of me, hollow and darkened from misuse, from the malfunction earlier. I saw myself there in the glass, watching my reflection as I caught my breath. I used that same reflection to keep a third, fourth eye out behind me, watching as the Citadel's defenses kept punching back at the geth ships overhead.

Sensing my exhaustion, and seeing the same through the live feed, Ashley let me know, _"Commander, I think Udina and Anderson are with the Council up ahead! The geth killed almost all of the security guards and soldiers aboard. This is the only door that's still locked. We stopped the enemy before they could break through. They were pretty intent on getting here, so this has to be it!"_

Forcing myself to give the standard tone—"Good work, Ash. Get in there and see if you can find them. Make sure they're unharmed. Whatever the case, have Joker update the fleets on the Council's status."

_"Understood. You keep going, too! You can do this. We believe in you, Skipper."_

I should've only needed a minute to recover.

Not even that— _seconds._

This headache clawed at me, pulsing and throbbing now.

If I kept this up, there was no way I'd make it to that master control panel in time.

Holding Ashley's words close, I looked around, spotting an escape hatch a little farther down by the elevator shaft. I rerouted my path on my omni-tool again, using this hatch as a new start point. Crawling through the vents there would take me a little longer, technically, but I wouldn't need to cloak. In reality, I could move faster without needing to stop and refresh my implants. Normally, though, moving through the vents on this station was impossible, since they were like an ant farm meant for the keepers to navigate on their own, away from our view.

I trusted my schematics for this. Cloaking again for now, just in case, I went over to the escape hatch.

I lifted this steel door and crawled through. Finding enough gravity and oxygen in here, I took off my helmet and changed my boots back to my regular combat settings, to help me move faster. Narrow, but with a decent amount of space to move around, I crawled across unseen and undetected, giving my implants a much-needed break for the time being. And I could finally escape all of that noise from outside. Quiet except for the soft clicking sounds of the keepers' claw-like movements echoing through the vents, I found some measure of peace again.

Spotting some keepers tinkering around off in other directions, they were definitely off in their own world. Like Vigil had said, they'd outright ignored the directives they'd already received to open that mass relay for the Reapers out in dark space. They found other, seemingly random things to work on instead, toiling away at monitors or repairing other station functions in their reach. Whatever they were doing, they didn't care to acknowledge me, leaving me alone to keep moving through these vents. I knew that they noticed me crawling through their space here.

They were apparently content to pretend like they didn't see me at all. So I pretended like I didn't see them, either, continuing on.

I remained vigilant and sensitive to any sudden changes all the same.

The keepers weren't known to be hostile in the slightest. I still couldn't afford to take any chances.

 _"Captain Anderson!"_ called Ashley, sounding like she rammed her fist against a door. _"Ambassador Udina? Councilors? Anyone in there? It's safe to come out now!"_

Anderson's muffled voice from behind the door— _"Chief Williams? Ashley! Is that you?"_

_"Yes, Captain! I'm here with the team from the Normandy!"_

_"I'll get the door!"_

Ashley asked, _"Joker, you getting this? Sounds like they're okay. We'll head inside to make sure. Give an update Admiral Hackett and the other fleets."_

Joker answered, _"Yeah, I heard Anderson just fine. As soon as I get confirmation, I'll let everyone know!"_

I let myself smile a bit, glad that Anderson was okay, and that Ashley had pulled through.

 _"Well, aren't you all a sight for sore eyes!"_ said Anderson. _"Come on in, take a seat. You look exhausted!"_

The asari councilor sounded unharmed, too. _"Chief Williams of the Alliance, was it? We are in your debt. You found us just in time. Thank you for your heroic assistance."_

 _"Indeed,"_ agreed the salarian councilor. _"We were all but certain that the geth would find us."_

 _"That was unfortunately the case,"_ added the turian councilor. _"I'm relieved that you responded to our distress call. Each of you have our gratitude."_

Udina was reluctant to chime in, _"We are certainly grateful, yes… But where is Commander Shepard? Shouldn't she be here with you? Why are only the five of you here?"_

Ashley bit back her retort over his scheming from before, replying instead, _"The commander's currently on the Citadel, trying to get the arms open again. I'm her second-in-command. I carried out her orders to save you."_ She showed them her omni-tool. _"Shepard's broadcasting her progress to us in real-time. She can hear us, too. She's going to get this done."_

 _"Commander…?"_ spoke Anderson in a quiet awe. _"Is this true? That's you there now, in the vents?"_

"Yes, Sir," I responded. "I'm making my way to the Citadel Tower now to stop Saren in his tracks."

Udina groused, _"Those vents are like an ant farm! Getting through will be impossible!"_

 _"Please, Ambassador,"_ scolded the salarian councilor. _"There is no need for pessimism at a time like this. The commander's team saved us from assassination at the hands of the geth. The commander herself managed to find her way onto the station in the midst of the attack, after we believed all was lost. Can you not find it in your heart to be the least bit hopeful about her prospects?"_

 _"I must agree,"_ stated the turian councilor. _"Not to mention, Commander Shepard has access to our very own personal schematics of the station, as per the resources we gave her as a Spectre. She is likely the only one still alive on the entire Citadel aside from Saren and his synthetics. We must believe in her."_

 _"Absolutely,"_ said the asari councilor. _"We made the mistake of doubting the commander before. Even in the face of our errors in judgment and undue punishments, she chose to do this. She chose to send Chief Williams and her team to aid us. She has done more than enough to earn our trust."_

Udina had nothing else to say, seeing as he was partly responsible for this gigantic mess in the first place.

Anderson was still amazed— _"Shepard, this is a hell of a feat you've managed so far. I believed in you to find the Conduit. Now it seems it's led you right back onto the Citadel. We couldn't have asked for better luck, though I wish you weren't on your own out there… Still, you're the best damn infiltrator in the galaxy. You're the only one who can pull this off!"_

The salarian councilor wanted to know, _"What does Saren hope to achieve with all of this? Why is he on the station with that massive ship of his? And what exactly did you discover on Ilos?"_

While I crawled through this last stretch of the vents, Ashley and the others took the time to explain everything, to answer the Council's questions.

Tali provided them with a copy of Benezia's notes and Sovereign's schematics for additional proof.

As for the reasons, the details behind what Vigil had said about me on Ilos, the team didn't get into that.

They couldn't.

Even I didn't fully understand how things had turned out this way. I only knew for certain that I was _ready_ —the team made sure to emphasize this to Anderson, Udina, and the Council, no matter their incredulous reactions and hanging disbelief. The story of how I was ready, and who had brought me here, they left vague on purpose, only explaining that it was _someone_ who strengthened my willpower.

Whatever the Council assumed from there couldn't matter to me.

They chose not to ask questions about it, anyway.

Giving me the benefit of the doubt, and giving my team the benefit of the doubt, they believed us.

 _Finally,_ they believed.

Once the Council had their explanations, their questions answered, everyone went quiet.

They watched as I crawled through to an elevator, taking it to the Citadel Tower.

No malfunctioning this time—I soon arrived at the correct floor, and the elevator doors opened.

Again, just in case, I activated my tactical cloak, entering to what had become of this place:

Rising red-golden flames up above, at either side of my path—the cherry trees there burned as the Presidium did. This pathway, unobstructed by those embers, led me up the stairs and to the fountain barely bursting in the beauty it once had before. Overhead, everywhere, this same tint of autumn warmth glowed all around, surrounding me in what should have been peace, and more beauty, even as the light from the massive window at the far side continued to beam light into the tower.

Anderson, Udina, the Council, Ashley, Tali, Garrus, and Wrex: I heard their own comments and grievances over the state of the Citadel Tower.

Liara still wouldn't say anything. But I knew she was there, so I couldn't worry too much.

No geth around, no enemies whatsoever—at least not yet.

I proceeded up the flights of stairs, past more trees—some on fire, some not—and past the rock gardens. I stayed just below the length of the upper balconies and floors, devoid of all the usual politicians and visitors around. I walked closer to that tall, tall window there behind where the Council usually stood as they passed judgment down on us, past more of these stairs, these purposeful defensive positions.

Glimmering in the light shining in from that window, I soon reached the top, and found my dilemma.

Extended and elongated, the path before me had connected nearer to where the Council typically stood. With that connection, a wide panel had formed at the end there, with a bright display stretching on. At that panel, in front of the display was Saren, typing there with his back to me. His own kinetic barriers shined in the window's light, reminding me of my limitations. Even if I wanted to shoot him, take him out myself—I couldn't. With my full concentration back on Virmire, I wasn't able to breach his defenses with my sniper rifle.

Through my radio, I heard Udina's insistence, urging me to kill Saren now, while he was vulnerable.

My team explained why I couldn't.

Everyone fell silent again, not knowing what to say this time.

All they could do was believe in me.

I couldn't turn back now.

So I stepped closer to Saren, well-aware that he sensed me here. I moved just close enough, knowing what I risked by doing this.

Saren stopped his typing on the console, locking something out there in red. Stepping back onto his damned hover device, he raised himself above me. Turning to face me, he sneered down at my cloaked form from where I'd stopped, spotting me with ease.

"Such wonderful timing, Commander," mocked Saren. "Whatever you've accomplished in making it here on your own will not matter. This is already over."

Seeing no point in _hiding_ anymore, I deactivated my tactical cloak.

If I made a run for the panel, Saren would only gun me down. That would've been a stupid risk.

I stayed put instead, glaring up at him—remembering my honor.

The way his eyes glowed in a bright blue, indoctrinated—he had clearly lost _his_ honor, if he'd had any in the first place.

Saren kept on disparaging me, "You've lost. You know that, don't you? It is only a matter of time now." He pointed up, up above the tower. "Sovereign will have full control of all the Citadel's systems. The relay will open. The Reapers will return." When I still couldn't say anything, he almost laughed. "I allowed you and your team to survive our encounter on Virmire. But I've changed since then. Improved. Sovereign has…upgraded me."

"I can see that," I told him, monotone. "You gave up on trying to resist its indoctrination, then."

Pausing for but a moment, Saren disregarded the implications of what I said, ranting on: "You don't understand, Shepard. There is no resistance. There is no way of adequately fighting back. I finally accepted this once Sovereign blessed me with these implants. It strengthened my resolve. Surely you can understand _that,_ can't you?" He knew this wasn't the same, not at all; _somewhere,_ I sensed that he knew, and that he fought against this. "I believe in Sovereign completely. The Reapers need organics. Join us, and Sovereign will find a place for you, too."

I scowled more over his damned weakness. "I'd rather die than live like that."

"Then you will die. And your companions. _The ones you love._ Everyone you know; everyone you've ever met. Don't you see? You will all die! The Reapers can't be stopped. Not by the Protheans and their foolish methods, their ridiculous hopes and dreams. Not by you with the same. How can you dare to _think_ you could stand up to the might of Sovereign, of the Reapers as gods!? The cycle always continues!"

"Sovereign hasn't won yet," I reminded him. "I can stop it from taking control of the station! Step aside and the Reapers won't invade! Not today—not before we're ready. If you give us a fighting chance, we can defeat them this time! You have to believe!"

"We can't stop it!" raged Saren. "You saw the visions. You saw what happened to the Protheans! The Reapers are too powerful. Why should the galaxy place their trust in _you_ to save them? You are but one woman, Shepard! This is beyond foolish. Don't be reckless! We must submit ourselves to their will!"

"Saren, don't be ridiculous. You're better than this! All that talk of protecting yourself from indoctrination—you had to know that this is possible. You had to know that the Protheans did find a way to fight back against the Reapers, and that it worked. They succeeded, even if it was too late! All we have to do is follow in their footsteps. I'm prepared to do that if you step aside right here, right now."

Breathing harder now, considering—Saren's eyes flickered from bright to normal, and bright again.

Staring deep into my own eyes, into my resolve, he seemed to remember something.

"Maybe you're right, Commander… When last we saw one another on Virmire, I sensed…that you were not ready. You had not embraced the truth of your greatness, just as I had planned. All the while, I sought to throw you off at each turn. To set you down the wrong path. It appears you discovered what I tried to do. Or perhaps you have not. You simply went with your instincts. Either way, I have failed…"

"Throw me off?" I questioned. "Set me down the wrong path? What are you talking about?"

Saren lamented, "It does not matter anymore. Sovereign is too strong… I'm sorry. It's too late for me. Still, I struggle with this outcome. Even if you are _ready,_ Shepard, are you prepared to carry this burden for the rest of the galaxy? Should the one strengthening your mind stop believing in you—should your deep connection with her dim or perish, then that is the end of the solution. Trillions of souls will be doomed because of your failure to love another person completely, _unconditionally,_ when we both know that is your truest weakness. Why should I accept your deeply flawed methods over my own?"

Staring up at him so high above me, I stepped closer to Saren, closer, needing to appease him:

"Listen to me, Saren," I said, firm. "I understand your doubts. You wanted a sure thing. Hell, when I first found out about all of this—resisting a Reapers' indoctrination, disabling its shields by pure _belief_ —I was skeptical, too. I get why you thought it was best to make us all surrender instead. The fact of the matter is, you gave up. The Protheans only failed because they didn't have time! If they'd had time, if they had been prepared, then they could've broken the cycle. It's up to us now to finish what they started."

Considering my words, more.

Saren retrieved his pistol from his hip, thinking, thinking.

All of these ashes around us, and the ashes of the Protheans—he considered what had become of them.

"No, it is up to you… _You,_ and the one you have yet to fully accept into your heart. And when you do that, should she somehow fall out of your favor, everyone else will suffer. Quite the risk for a lone wolf."

"If I have to sacrifice my sanity, my limits, and my own life for her, then I'll do it. _This is who I am!"_

Accepting my words, my resolve at last, Saren lowered his head for a moment, eyes closed.

When he opened his eyes again, that indoctrinated-blue glow had disappeared.

Temporary, only temporary in his shame.

His failures, except for this.

"Shepard… Thank you."

Saren raised his gun to his neck, angling up.

Firing his pistol, he shot straight through his skull, blood firing from his head in noise. He fell down below the platform. Glass shattering on impact, his corpse fell through to the rock garden. More glass from his descent knifed through his skin, his vitals. He was gone.

His hover device fell to the ground near the master control panel, clattering there.

With those sounds, almost everyone through my radio finally whispered out their disbelief, their relief.

This wasn't over yet.

I went over to the master control panel. Finding Saren's progress in handing over the Citadel to Sovereign, he had locked out the possibility of undoing any of this. So I checked my omni-tool for that data file from Vigil, the override to take back control of the station. But when I tried to upload it, I ran into a problem:

This file didn't work.

It was supposed to. _It had to._ I couldn't open the Citadel's arms without this.

Searching for the root cause, I found the reason for this setback.

Above my head, outside, at the pointed top of the Citadel Tower, Sovereign had overpowered the master control panel, preventing anyone from taking its access away. It hadn't opened the mass relay by now. It hadn't forced the rest of the Reapers to pour through from dark space, destroying us all. Making the best guess I could, Sovereign seemed to fight for control, like it wasn't able to do what it set out to do in the first place. The Protheans must have corrupted the mass relay opening by doing more than interfering with the keepers' processes and priorities.

Whatever it was doing up there, Sovereign was stuck until it managed to find a workaround.

I looked down to Saren's hover device on the ground next to me, then out to the window.

Seeing what I saw, sensing what I sensed—Ashley's barely-controlled voice found me again, _"Commander, you can't seriously be thinking about doing this now… Tell me you aren't. Tell me we're just seeing things."_

"Sovereign's blocking my access to the master control panel," I told her. "Vigil's override isn't working. It won't work until I can disable Sovereign's power directly. I have to do this."

At this point, there was nothing she or anyone else could say to stop me.

They knew it.

"Joker," I said. "Get Admiral Hackett on the line with us. I need to coordinate my plans with him."

Worried, reluctant: _"Aye, aye, Ma'am…"_

 _"Commander?"_ asked Hackett. _"Commander Shepard, are you getting this? Are you currently on the Citadel?"_

"Yes, Admiral," I answered. "I'm close to getting the station's arms back open. The ship Sovereign sitting at the top of the Citadel Tower is interfering with that. I need to disable its power before the arms will cooperate."

Bewildered, Hackett reacted, _"You mean you can disable that giant thing? How in the hell is that possible? That ship is unlike anything I've ever seen before. It tore some of the turians' best frigates right in half on its way inside the station!"_

"We don't have time to explain right now," I insisted, bringing up Sovereign's schematics with my omni-tool. "I'm going to board the ship. There's a weak point that will let me bring down its shields, disabling its mass effect accelerator, at least temporarily. As soon as those arms are open, bring the fleets in. If you hit it all at once, you should be able to destroy it before that accelerator can come back online."

_"I see. And if I rush the order, will you be able to escape from Sovereign in time before it's destroyed?"_

I found an entry point to board Sovereign, not too far from its weak point: the chamber with enough room for an organic to override the ship's shields from within. Grabbing hold of the overhead handles, I just had to pull them, pulling and staying that way until all power on the ship cut off, including its external shields. After I finished with the override, I could leave from the same point without issues.

Sovereign still had several of those husks aboard, though. Cloaking past them wouldn't be a problem.

I confirmed, "I can escape on my own. Don't worry about me."

Still wary, Hackett accepted my promise. _"Understood… I'll communicate with the fleets now. Let's keep this line open to coordinate our attack with the Normandy. And for some peace of mind while we wait for you on standby. If you pull this off, it'll be a miracle. You're our only hope. Godspeed, Commander."_

Knowing that Hackett still listened, and that Ashley and the team and everyone else still listened, all I could do was take a breath.

I had no room for anything else.

I grabbed Saren's hoverboard, looking it over, and scanning it with my omni-tool. This would work in zero-gravity locations, like just outside the tower where Sovereign sat up above. All I needed to do was stay close to other objects, and the board itself would create its own gravity field for me to navigate. Getting up to Sovereign's back entrance near the chamber wouldn't be a problem with this device. Getting out, and finding a landing point outside, without any other objects around, while trying to avoid the debris from the ships destruction—that might've been a problem.

I could worry about it later.

Leaving the master control panel, I walked around to the side of the Council Chambers, nearing the tall window that led outside.

As I did, I remembered one last order.

"Ashley," I said.

She pushed back her own apprehensions, responding, _"I'm here, Skipper."_

"I need you and the team to escort Anderson, Udina, and the Council back to the _Normandy._ If more of those geth ships show up, I don't want you to have to fight off another assassination attempt. They'll be safer aboard our ship."

_"Aye, aye, Commander. We'll get moving. I'll update you once we make it there. Shouldn't take long…"_

I noticed, "What is it?"

Ashley asked of me, _"Do you mind waiting until we finish with the escort? I know you don't have time to waste, sitting around… Maybe it's selfish. We need that peace of mind, too, like Admiral Hackett said. If we can stay in one place and watch you with Joker back at the helm, that'd help us out a lot."_

In reality, I did need more time to collect myself anyway…

"All right, then," I replied. "I'll wait here until you make it to the _Normandy._ Let me know."

_"We're already on our way. Thanks for doing this. Try to take it easy until then."_

I appreciated that Ashley held back so much in this moment.

Because if I heard anything more from her, I wasn't sure if I could handle it right now.

It didn't help that Liara _still_ wouldn't say anything to me, either.

Once I made it right beside the window, I stopped.

Setting Saren's hoverboard down on the ground, I knelt here to change my back to my mag boots.

I returned my N7 helmet over my head.

I reinforced my stealth suit for the upcoming zero-gravity, zero-oxygen environment just outside.

And then I sat here, legs crossed, helmeted head lowered: trying to find my balance, my calm. Keeping my eyes open to not disrupt the live feed for everyone, I did my best to empty my mind. I hadn't actually meditated in a long time. I used to do it often enough, years ago. Years ago, to work on my temper, my mood swings. My thoughtless hatred of everyone and everything. My anger at the world, at the galaxy, for the way they'd seemed to abandon me and other people like me back on Earth, not caring to help us at all.

All I had wanted back then were answers. I'd needed to understand why that had to happen to me. What was the point? Whose idea was it for things to end up that way?

If everything had meant to lead me to this point, then I could accept it.

I could move forward with these answers of mine.

Soon enough, Ashley gave me her update, _"We made it back aboard the Normandy, Commander. Captain Anderson, Ambassador Udina, the Council, and the rest of the team—we're all here with Joker on the bridge, watching."_

"Good," I responded, taking one last moment to stay where I was. "If there's nothing else, I'll get going."

Joker did have something for me, _"Hang on, Commander. I'm getting requests from all allied fleets for the Normandy to share your broadcast. They want to see you, too. You won't be able to hear them or anything. It's just one way. Want me to set up the link with them? Or—is it too much pressure? You know, having all those eyes on you like that…"_

I had to trust myself to pull this off, no matter who watched me.

"Set up the link, Joker," I allowed.

 _"Okay…they're in. We're streaming live to all allied forces near the Citadel. Well,_ you _are. Good luck…"_

Hackett confirmed, _"Commander, we've got your visual and audio. The fleets are with you."_

Standing up now, I kept the hoverboard with me, and pulled out my pistol.

Aiming at the window, I shot the glass out from in front of me.

Shards floating out in every directions, directionless: the hazy violet of the outside nebula lit my way in this makeshift daylight. I grabbed hold of the newly-opened leverage with this wall, getting myself out of the window, out to the Citadel Tower's exterior, out to the nebula's embrace. Looking up and around first, I saw that Sovereign's front faced this way, on this side. I had to get around to the opposite side, to keep its frontal lasers from firing at me, shooting me down and obliterating me.

Hovering along with Saren's device, I circled around the narrow, off-white structure of the tower, around to the back side. Staying close enough to this surface, I could graze my gloves here for the added security, on top of my mag boots keeping me centered to this board. Controlling my breathing inside my helmet, head facing up to those claws lodged atop the tower, I floated upward, up this skyscraper of a distance. Up to meet Sovereign, up to the opening along its back, near the top of its so-called head.

I focused there for my sanity, for my life.

If I looked down to the ring of the Presidium so far below, or to the lower Citadel arms, I wasn't sure if I would slip and fall.

I couldn't take that chance.

Besides, to Sovereign, I was meaningless. A rudimentary creature in its view, I existed as nothing in comparison. Nothing to notice, nothing to spot or care for—not even as I neared this back entrance, unseen in both a literal and figurative sense. It didn't care to perceive me, so it couldn't. It didn't care to see me as a threat, so it wouldn't. It didn't care about what I was, and it believed that I would fall to its indoctrination anyway, so it shouldn't have given a damn about what I was about to do.

Trying to defend itself now would make it look weak and cowardly, even with none of its allies around:

Sovereign preserved its pride and ego to the very end, no matter the potential risk to its survival.

Reaching this opening near the very top of Sovereign's form, I grabbed hold of the narrow edges. Pulling myself through, floating in zero-G until the ship's weight found me, I made sure to keep Saren's hoverboard with me, close by. Through to this darkness, this alien design—I found washed-out, solid colors of varying tints of gray and violet everywhere, miserable and hopeless. Higher up along the curved ceilings, those hues and round formations seemed so unknown the longer I looked at them, the walls seeming to close in on me, edged and angled in a menacing slant.

Kneeling here with the ship's stable gravity, I kept my helmet and my mag boots on anyway, just in case.

My schematics glowed through this dark in a much-needed orange glow, lighting my way, for now, until I needed to cloak again. I saw no husks in the nearby area with my radar. I was bound to run into them on the way to the chamber, though, so I needed to be prepared. They were weak on their own, yes, but I worried about a sudden swarm catching up and overwhelming me.

There wasn't a lot of room to run and hide in this place. I had to play it safe.

As I took a crouched step forward, I had to press my hand to the nearest wall, clawing there.

Clawing at my head, a hundred times worse than my tactical cloak implants clawing at my brain from overuse: this _unknown_ weighed down on my mind. Far beyond anything I could imagine, I saw nothing else, perceived nothing else except for the sights around me. Clawing down through my eyesight, a webbing darkness veined at me in despair, nearly blackening all. And these sights in my immediate area caved down more in my twisted perception, closing in on themselves, closing in on me—

This same closing, this same darkness, I remembered with memories not my own, of the many that had tried to do this before, only to fall here, right where I was.

I dug my gloved fingers harder into this wall, the pain reminding me that I was still here.

I was still my own person, still myself.

I was still alive.

Ashley's voice as another godsend, soft in her rasped unraveling: _"Shepard…"_

Looking at my hand for emphasis, I relaxed my grip along the wall.

"I'm fine, Ash."

_"I know you are. I know… You have to be. Griffons never die, after all. Keep at it."_

Holding Saren's hoverboard closer to me with my other arm, I cloaked to invisibility.

Hiding more from all of this, from this situation, I followed the path in front of me.

Hoping that I really _was_ still myself, with my own sovereignty still in-tact, I stayed low as I passed through these narrowed halls and vents. Whether Sovereign perceived me in here or not, it couldn't matter anymore. Those humanoid, gray and blue husks were all around in large groups, posing enough of a threat. Emaciated and curled up into fetal positions, they only sat there in the near-distance, groaning and moaning in a haunted loneliness. Even though they were surrounded by other husks, by each other, they all seemed and sounded so alone together.

No matter their despairing, they were mindless enough to switch to attack mode if they heard me.

 _Mindless…_ or maybe something else.

Whenever we had fought them before, they'd always thrown themselves at us, like they wanted to die.

Now wasn't the time for me to put them out of their misery if that was the case. Not on my own.

Closer to that chamber, that backdoor, that primary weakness in all capital-class Reaper ships like Sovereign, I did start to wonder why their creators had left these here.

I couldn't let myself linger on the question, knowing that I wouldn't discover these answers anytime soon. Still, this chamber was just _here,_ like Sovereign's creator had wanted someone like me to find it at some point. Someone like me who could resist this indoctrination. Someone like me who was already 'indoctrinated' by another person, and who wanted this ship gone already. And someone like me who could become invisible, undetectable with ease, navigating these paths with my own willpower, my own convictions. This didn't feel like enough of a coincidence to be pre-ordained, but it definitely felt suspicious, if not too good to be true. Or maybe that was just my old cynicism playing tricks on me again.

Whatever the case, I still felt Sovereign's efforts against my mind, even now.

They only brushed off of me, reflecting right back, nullified by my immunity.

Aware, but powerless—Sovereign tried to compensate, tried to strengthen its indoctrination signal.

The ship itself rumbled beneath my boots, beneath my hand brushing along these walls, and beneath my knees bent here near the ground.

Some form of light in illusions: I saw the shadowy figures of the ones who tried before, again reaching this same spot, and again, falling one by one to this same strengthened signal in their heads. Falling, failing, they instead gave in to this mental temptation made manifest, forsaking the one that had once strengthened them; giving into that incomprehensible force and pain. Turning into other shadowed forms I couldn't recognize, those Protheans lost themselves here, lost their sanity and their identities, becoming the mindless slaves that Sovereign wanted them to be, if only to protect itself.

Not wanting to end up the same way, I made this last push once it was safe, hurrying ahead.

As I moved, I realized, too:

I didn't feel that additional, lingering pain from pushing my tactical cloak for too long.

I hadn't had to uncloak this whole time, not once. Not to relieve that pain. Not to refresh anything.

I wasn't sure if the pain was still there, and I couldn't register it in the face of this higher resistance, or if it was because of something else.

That something else guided me along as I reached this chamber closing in on me, claustrophobic.

About the same space as a pod with standing room only: I could move around just enough, but anything more than that was impossible. Rounded edges of design, almost like geth technology, though not quite: this was a little more familiar than the rest of Sovereign's interior that had looked so foreign to me.

Above my head, spaced out about shoulder-length, I found those handles to grab onto. Linked to Sovereign's entire network, this was connected to all of its systems and programming, including the mass effect accelerator that powered its shields. Wired and waiting, the current there from my interaction would overload that network, those systems and the programming, by the will of Sovereign's creator. Whoever or whatever that was.

Setting Saren's hoverboard along the curved wall at my feet, I reached up to the handles.

Grabbing on, I didn't feel anything different yet. Nothing unusual.

Not until I pulled and pulled, almost shocked by this electric-like current running through me.

Not quite electrified, not at all harmed, physically—pulling these handles triggered an initial flash of dark in my surroundings. Pulling at these weights with the weight of this mission on my shoulders, I dealt with the pain, silent and refusing to make a sound. Only from my harsh blinking could everyone on the other end realize that this wiring gripped me as much as I gripped it back. Only from my team's quieted, restless reactions could I tell that they felt me, somehow, even in this distance, even only in empathy, worrying for me.

They stayed quiet to let me do this. They stayed quiet to let me concentrate.

Concentrating, and forcing more of those flashes in my immediate area, across the entire ship, malfunctioning:

Far louder than before, Sovereign blared in defiance through my head, through these walls, over and over again. But those disabling gasps couldn't stop me, no matter what. They reached my team, and Anderson and Udina, and the Council, who let out startled sounds in response. Proving to them that they had nothing to worry about, I pulled harder, one last time, finishing this with my full concentration, my full focus.

And then: engulfed in total darkness.

Absolute silence.

_Peace._

And then the immediate, spirited reactions from my team, from everyone else, beyond incredulous.

Admiral Hackett's proud orders to the fleets reached me: _"She's done it… The Citadel's opening! All ships move in! Concentrate on Sovereign, but hold your fire! I repeat—hold fire! We need to give the commander time to escape! Not a single shot from any of you until she's safe!"_

Joker shouted out, _"Get out of there, Shepard! You've gotta get moving! I know it's pitch black and all but you need to find a way out, like now! Call me paranoid—you're still risking your life in there. We can't lose you now. Definitely not after what you just pulled off!"_

"I know," I managed to say, letting go of the handles. "Let me check…" Sovereign's schematics glowing orange, lighting my way anew—even more so—I checked my radar. "All those husks are disabled, too. The indoctrination signal's down. Without that, the husks are pretty much dead. I'll make a run for it."

_"Roger! I'll look for you near the tower. If you need me to catch you with the Normandy, I'll do it!"_

"Copy that, Joker."

Everyone else, Ashley and Liara especially—I sensed their astonishment stronger than the rest, keeping them silent. Keeping them anxious, too nervous to say a word to me. Almost as if, should they have spoken, this entire picture would break somehow, and I would break along with it.

Not broken in the slightest, I retrieved Saren's hoverboard.

Clutching onto this thing for my life, I didn't bother cloaking—I followed the path back, _running._

Running for the right reasons this time.

Running past those husks, disabled and fallen out over the ground.

Running toward something, finally, instead of always running away out of fear, out of pure habit.

Changing my views; re-shaping my own limitations, my barriers.

This change in direction helped me see myself in a different light.

Lighting my way more than my omni-tool ever could, I needed this change in momentum.

Hopefully everlasting, this light felt so much better; made far more sense to me than my old ways.

But even with my hopes, I couldn't help feeling that this _wasn't_ permanent, although I needed it to be.

Reaching the light of Sovereign's exit, I pushed those worries aside, pushing myself out to the sights: scores of the Citadel's fleets, the Council races' fleets, and the Alliance fleets all surrounded me, surrounding Sovereign, everywhere, leaving no escape.

Before they all started firing, I boarded Saren's device again.

Floating downward, upside-down, narrowed with the path of the Citadel Tower, I made it as far away as I could. Somewhere in the distance between those turian frigates, asari cruisers, and human dreadnoughts, I spotted the _Normandy_ zipping across in my direction, with Joker intent on catching me directly. Nearly reaching the ring of the Presidium at the base of the tower, I was well out of reach by now.

Hackett had his confirmation that I was safe. _"All ships, open fire! Take that monster down! Hit it with everything we've got!"_

Relentless gunfire from the fleets below me from my perspective: they fired at the Reaper in a joined synergy, entirely focused as one.

Focused entirely on me, Joker caught up with _Normandy,_ intercepting me at my position.

That strip of white atop the ship's hull, I focused on, centered between the black and white letterings.

Exploding without sound in this vacuumed nebula, Sovereign shattered to pieces. Claws dislodged from the Citadel Tower, that towering form leaned over before splitting into dozens and dozens of pieces. Fire and brimstone with its limbs smoking and enflamed, that nation of independence and superiority was no more, errant shards of dark blue-violet scattering to the negative winds.

As Sovereign disintegrated to those winds, Joker caught my windfall.

Slowing, angling, I landed atop the ship, safely away from those pieces sent flying.

Standing tall, I stared up at the star-like view of Sovereign's destruction, my ears warmed from the loudness of my radio, from everyone's shock, their praise, their astonishment, so ecstatic.

I smiled up at those flaming stars, brimming with relief: _mission accomplished._

* * *

Safely back on the Citadel, in a closed-off area of the Council Chambers, the councilors invited me to attend a private meeting with them. Ambassador Udina and Captain Anderson standing at either side of me, we had all arrived here together a few moments ago. After the team had shared their congratulations with me, and the fleets had spread word of my victory, the entire galaxy felt like it was on a sudden high. Joined together in this spirit of celebration, for once it seemed as if everyone had set their inter-galactic issues aside, basking in this new light.

They all believed that this was the beginning _and_ the end of the Reaper threat.

I knew better. My team knew better. Udina, Anderson, and the Council all knew better.

Whether or not the rest of the galaxy would find out the truth before or after the impending invasion, I accepted that this was out of my control.

The Council had brought me here with the captain and the ambassador to explain their decision on how to handle this fallout.

Captain Anderson clapped my shoulder, forever proud of me.

Even Ambassador Udina offered me a sincere enough smile, setting aside his negativity for the moment.

The asari councilor addressed us first: "Ambassador. Captain. Commander Shepard. We have gathered here to recognize the enormous contributions of the Alliance forces in the war against Sovereign and the geth. The commander's gallantry in saving the Citadel as a lone infiltrator now stands among the most esteemed acts of our galactic history. We would not be here were it not for her courageous efforts."

The salarian councilor said, "Many humans lost their lives in the battle to save the Citadel—brave and courageous soldiers who willingly gave their lives so that we—the Council—might live. The _Normandy's_ team, led by Gunnery Chief Williams in the commander's absence, also risked their lives to save ours. Once again, none of us among the Council would be here today had they not succeeded."

"There is no greater sacrifice," supplied the turian councilor, "And we share your grief over the tragic loss of so many noble men and women. Seeing the staggering destruction on the Citadel through your eyes was yet another wake-up call for us, Commander. Sovereign and the geth caused the deaths of millions of lives here upon the station. It will take years for us to rebuild, but we will never be able to make up for those lost souls. That visitors continue to travel to Citadel as we speak: this is a testament to your legend, and their trust in you to protect them here in our heart of galactic civilization."

The asari councilor expressed, "The Council owes you a great deal of personal debt, Commander. One we can never repay. By defeating Sovereign, you have saved billions of lives. You have the courage of your convictions and a ruthless determination to succeed. Through your actions, you have become a symbol of everything humanity represents."

The turian councilor praised, "Your species has an indomitable will—a fierce, savage spirit that will not bend or yield. We used to believe this made humans stubborn, even dangerous. Yet you have proven that your unyielding will is capable of changing the course of history itself. You achieved the impossible by weakening Sovereign in order for the Citadel's allied fleets to destroy the ship once and for all. We will need you as our strongest hero in this coming war, Commander Shepard—now more than ever."

The salarian councilor continued, "At last we understand that humanity's traits are what make you strong. They have forged you as the hero of the Battle of the Citadel. Your feats as an N7 Infiltrator will stand as legend to all who would follow in your footsteps as a soldier. Going forward, there are dark times ahead; the Council needs humanity and its strength."

"As the Alliance ambassador," stated Udina, "I accept your offer. Humanity will join its strength to yours. We will take our seat on the Council."

The asari councilor pointed out, "Commander, given all that has happened, I am sure your recommendation will carry a great deal of weight. Do you support any particular candidate?"

There was only one choice: "We need someone with the courage to stand up for what he believes in. Someone like Captain Anderson." Predictably, Udina grumbled over my choice, yet he chose not to fight against me. "As for the captain's history as a soldier, that's exactly what we need right now. We already have too many politicians on the Citadel. Anderson would be perfect for this job."

"The shadow of war darkens our future," agreed the asari councilor. "Selecting someone with military experience is a wise choice. Captain Anderson, we welcome your place here with us on the Council."

"I'm honored, councilor," accepted Anderson. "As humanity's representative, I'll do everything in my power to help guide the Council." He nodded to me, and joined the councilors at their side. "If I may."

"Certainly," allowed the salarian councilor. "Do you have it ready?"

"Yes, I do. Commander Shepard, won't you step forward?"

Caught off-guard by Anderson's formality, I did as he asked.

Standing with his hands behind his back, he smiled at me.

"I know you hate all things pomp and circumstance," he began. "So I didn't go through the trouble of making a big scene out of this. Whether you choose to tell anyone or not, the Alliance will find out soon enough. I think that's best—for now, at least."

I admitted, "I don't understand, Sir. What do you mean?"

"Commander, you're here with us today because of how exceptional you are. A harsh childhood, working your way up to your successes through the years—you are the very spirit of what it means to serve with principle and integrity, both despite and because of your unique history. Despite the odds, you've achieved this total victory here on the Citadel, going above and beyond the call of duty. As a Spectre, as a soldier, and as an infiltrator, you deserve no less than the highest honor of the Systems Alliance Navy."

Revealing what he'd had behind his back since before the meeting started, Anderson showed me:

That sky blue ribbon.

That five-pointed bronze star.

That engraving of Minerva in the center of the star—the goddess of war—representing the United North American States back on Earth.

A Medal of Honor, for me.

Anderson draped the short ribbon around my neck. The star settled right at the center of my chest warm with this meaning—more so because I wore my N7 stealth suit instead of my expected dress uniform, like the one Anderson had on. He soon finished tying the ribbon, and placed his hands along the sides of my shoulders, supportive; his eyes teeming in pride, for me.

"Congratulations, Commander," he said, smiling wider. "You've done more than enough to earn this."

The salarian councilor, the turian councilor, and the asari councilor all nodded to me as well, approving.

Somewhere behind me, I sensed that Udina at least appreciated the gesture.

"Thank you, Councilor Anderson…"

Anderson appreciated my own gesture in return. The new title suited him.

The turian councilor then reached the heart of this meeting—"The battle with Sovereign destroyed our illusions of peace and security. Spirits are running high for now, yet we cannot simply hope that things will remain this way forever. The galaxy will look to us—the Council—to defend them. And they will look to you, Commander, to repeat what you have achieved here on the Citadel today. We are positive that you will be up to the task."

The asari councilor pledged, "We will take stock of all the evidence and research you have provided us with. We will also work with the Alliance, the Salarian Special Tasks Group, and the turian and asari governments to ensure that their best scientists are able to analyze the wreckage left behind in the battle against Sovereign. And when the time comes, whenever that may be, you will have our utmost support for the fight against the Reapers."

"But until then," warned the salarian councilor, "We must not alarm the public with this information. Should the galaxy's citizens be led to believe the war is imminent, they will panic. They will feel unsafe in their own homes, their own communities. It is imperative that we not frighten them with talks of the Reaper threat. It is best for the people to remain calm and oblivious for the time being. Officially, Commander Shepard and her team will be on a reconnaissance mission after this, surveying for any remaining geth forces after the battle. Nothing more."

Even though I agreed in theory, I didn't like the idea of straight-up lying to everyone to protect their sensibilities.

Seeing the same, Udina fought back, "How can you decide such a thing? The people deserve answers! Our casualties are in the millions! I am already dealing with thousands of calls and messages to my office from citizens concerned about Sovereign's attack. They rightly wish to know if and when this will happen again!"

"And you will not tell them the truth," insisted the turian councilor. "We must reassure the public that all is well. We cannot afford to have the citizens up-in-arms over this. It won't bode well for the future. _When_ the war arrives, we will change our messaging at that time. _Not before."_

"Ambassador Udina," said the asari councilor, "I implore you to prioritize the public's safety and peace of mind. Will you commit to remaining on-message with the Council through these uncertain times?"

"Fine," grumbled Udina. "You have my word. There is no problem, no risk of a returning threat, and no upcoming war. Have it your way, councilors…"

Anderson narrowed his eyes in suspicion, not believing the ambassador at all.

But Udina's promise—however flimsy—would have to do for now.

Anderson concluded the meeting with a promise of his own, stronger: "And when that time arrives, humanity will step up to do its part. Sovereign was only a vanguard for the rest of the Reapers. Their fleet is still coming. This will be a war for the very survival of all life as we know it. We will not back down. We will not surrender. We will lead you into battle against the Reapers, and we will destroy every last one of their forces! With the commander as the tip of our spear, we have a chance to win this. We'll be ready."

* * *

After the battle with Sovereign and saving the Council, my crew had done more than enough to earn some time off. We still had our so-called official mission to continue on with from the Council—surveying any and all areas for remaining geth forces—but we all knew what the deal was about that. There was no real rush for us to get back to work. Especially since we had no idea when the Reapers would arrive. The Council had the galaxy's best scientists analyzing everything we'd found, of course, so we also needed to wait on them to possibly give us more information on what we were up against.

So we had time.

I ordered everyone to take a month off. The team, the rest of the crew on the _Normandy—_ everyone. They all agreed to the time away from work, for now. Every single one of them promised to return once this vacation was over.

Ashley went back to Amaterasu to see her family at home: her mother and three sisters.

Tali returned to the Flotilla to complete her Pilgrimage, and to visit her father.

Garrus headed back to Palaven to see his father and his sister.

Wrex went to Tuchanka to see his clan and the rest of his comrades.

Liara returned home to Thessia, without me, even though I'd asked to join her for at least a few days.

She had declined, saying that it was best for us to spend the time apart instead, despite mentioning back on Ilos that we needed to talk. She didn't really explain why. I wasn't sure what this was all about. I decided against pushing the issue, and simply let her be over this break.

Since the Citadel was under heavy repair, Joker brought the ship to Arcturus Station, the main headquarters of the Alliance Navy. He had agreed to go home to visit his father and younger sister on Tiptree—but not until after we were done on the station. The whole way here, Joker had thought it was strange that I'd asked him to drop me off at Arcturus Station instead of Earth, asking me if this was about the Alliance. Since he wouldn't shut up about it, I'd explained that I did have business here, and that it wasn't necessarily about me.

He'd figured it out soon after.

And once he did, Joker had insisted on staying, too. He would go home afterward, as would I. When the month was over, we agreed to meet back here, and then go around with the _Normandy_ to pick the others up. Until then, we would remain in our complimentary rooms here for the next two weeks or so.

Initially, Ashley had no idea that I was on Arcturus Station at all.

She assumed that I'd gone back to my apartment on Earth, which made sense.

And since we couldn't call each other through our usual frequency, I had found a workaround for us. Whenever she wasn't spending time with her family, Ashley would spend this time with me. I would broadcast a private stream for her while she watched me play video games—usually my N7 simulator—and we would speak through the voice chat there. While Ashley watched me play during these couple of weeks, we talked about everything and nothing, nothing and everything, enjoying every word, every moment we shared. But we never once brought up the main thing that was on our minds.

Directly after the battle on the Citadel, once I'd made it back to the ship, Ashley had of course been happy to see me, giving me a hug and everything in front of the others. Even now, I sensed her lingering pride over what I'd managed to pull off, adoring me and revering me so much more. Yet this air of sentiments unspoken lingered between us anyway. She needed some time to process everything. From Ilos until now, these events had been such a huge shock for us both, for us all. I couldn't blame her for not quite knowing what to say right now.

I wasn't the type to hold my tongue about something important like this.

Neither was she.

Still, we had swept it under the rug, not wanting to face the endless questions and confusions there.

We carried on, acting like nothing was wrong.

Although I did have a couple of things I kept up my sleeve for her.

I wasn't sure how Ashley would react once she found out—if she would insist that it wasn't fair, or that she somehow hadn't earned any of this. I had already arranged for all of it to go ahead, despite her inevitable protesting. So there was nothing she could do to stop this.

This was what she deserved, what she'd done more than enough to earn, and what she should've had all along:

Once the evening arrived, I saw for myself how Ashley had decided to play this. I knew that she was here on Arcturus Station with her family. And she _obviously_ knew what this was about by now. Yet she hadn't said a word about it—not directly—clearly having figured out that this was all my doing.

Standing in front of this mirror in my complimentary officer's quarters, I looked myself over.

As a Spectre, I was allowed to wear the Alliance dress uniform for senior officers: blue, black, and gold. Chained, folded top with my history of insignias, ribbons, medals and pins, and this pair of longer trousers. The gold piping over my shoulders designated my rank as Lieutenant-Commander, and another set showed my superseding rank as a Spectre. These dress boots shined in the dull light of the station's false moon lighting my window. Everything ironed and polished in the same formality, creased to perfection—I had spent the time to do this by hand, thinking of Ashley the whole while. I kept my hair up in this strict tail down my back, centered and shining with the same attention to detail, if not more.

Soon enough, I'd get to see Ashley in this similar uniform, but for junior officers instead.

Finally, as what she had earned, as a commissioned officer during her promotion ceremony tonight.

The Alliance had wasted enough of Ashley's time, forcing her to stay stuck as a non-commissioned officer. Every military academy she'd applied to had rejected her _only_ because of her last name. Only because her grandfather was General Williams. Not because she wasn't qualified or skilled enough. So she had earned her undergraduate degree instead, satisfying that pre-requisite. And I'd discovered that the Alliance had also blackballed her from formally entering any officer training programs. About a year ago, Ashley's commanding officer back on Eden Prime had done what he could to train her as if she were in one of the programs anyway—even informally—having seen more than enough of her potential.

With all of those barriers in her way, I had argued Ashley's case to Alliance Command on the basis of excessive discrimination.

If Ashley could have had the same opportunities as everyone else, regardless of who her grandfather was, then she would've completed the rest of the usual pre-requisites to become a commissioned officer, the usual way. Nearly _e_ veryone before me had denied her those same chances. It simply wasn't fair to expect Ashley to pretty much start all over with her career by attending a military academy, and _then_ going through official channels this time for the officer training programs. That would've taken years.

She had already put in the work—hell, she had saved the Council from assassination during the battle.

She had already proven herself, ten times over.

She was entitled to this _now._

After listening to my arguments, re-reading the non-biased reports from Ashley's stellar performance over the years, and then reading the reports that I had written about her skills and talents, Alliance Command had actually taken my side. Whether it was because they genuinely believed me, or they cared more about my political power after the Battle of the Citadel, that couldn't matter to me. They'd agreed that it was time to make up for how the military had treated Ashley before. They'd promised that they would fast-track her promotion and pay raise—more than doubling her salary—holding the ceremony here on Arcturus Station, and inviting her family to attend as well.

That wasn't all, though.

Thinking the rest over, I went to sit down over the couch in front of the large enough TV.

Taking a breath, I saw that my hands wouldn't stop shaking. I gripped them together, before burying my face in my palms, breathing harder this time. But none of it went away.

This wasn't my promotion. This night wasn't about me at all. Yet I still dealt with this fluttering feeling in my stomach, barely able to believe that this was about to happen. I had fought so hard in arguing Ashley's case to Alliance Command. During most of the flight here on the _Normandy_ in the comm room, and then in-person on Arcturus Station whenever Ashley was out with her family, I had been in non-stop meetings with the military's top brass, fighting for this, fighting for her, because she deserved it. She was worth it.

Regardless of whether Ashley was my girlfriend or not, I still would have done this for her.

By this point, if I had still relieved Kaidan from duty, then I would have named Ashley as my second-in-command anyway. Even if I'd continued to keep my distance from her. Even if we'd never reconciled after my stupid misunderstandings with her from way back when. Even if I'd convinced myself to hate her, only seeing the worst in her on a personal level, I wouldn't have been able to deny her skill as a soldier; I wouldn't have been able to ignore her undying loyalty toward me as her commanding officer.

By this point, if everything else had gone the exact same way, then Ashley still would have led the charge to save Anderson, Udina, and the Council on the _Destiny Ascension._ That was her main victory. No one could deny it or take that away from her.

Ashley wasn't defined by her relationship with me. Not as a person, and not as a soldier.

The Alliance knew that, what with the rumors about us having gotten around by now. They knew, and they hadn't allowed my relationship with her to get in the way of their decision. They knew, and they chose not to mention me violating the regulations, either, given all that I had accomplished.

As relatively simple as that process had been with them, the rest remained so complicated.

So many complications over my accomplishments, so many unknowns before me:

Checking my omni-tool, I re-read the latest and only email that Liara had sent me, from yesterday:

_From: Liara – Time away._

_Shepard,_

_I apologize for my silence these days. I have not been myself in quite a while. Along with the shock of recent revelations, and witnessing what you achieved on the Citadel, I am not certain what to make of things. This has been a lot to process._

_Perhaps the time away is a good thing. Irrational though it may be, I am still upset over your decision to run off to the Conduit alone. I am sure you understand why. I believe this has compounded with the rest going on. It is difficult to put into words what I think, how I feel. Although I'm very proud of you for your heroics in defeating Sovereign, and for saving the Citadel. I am sorry for not telling you this sooner._

_What little I did manage to say to you on Ilos still stands._

_We ought to have a conversation at some point. It does not need to be anything particularly involved. And I already know what I wish to say. It won't be necessary for us to speak right away, once we return to the ship. I will still need some time to get settled in, to adjust. So, whenever you are ready, please invite me to your cabin. Maybe it would be nice for us to talk over a glass of our wine. Just like old times._

_These weeks and months have felt more like years to me. I'd rather not get into the reasons why._

_If at all possible, I would prefer that you not reply to this. It will be enough for me to see that you have 'read' my message. My reasons for this also tie into what I would like to tell you during our discussion. Please don't worry over it._

_I hope you enjoy the rest of your time off. I will see you once we return._

_-Liara_

Tender as ever, I missed her.

Just as well, I read over the email that Tali had recently sent me, thinking of her, too:

_From: Tali'Zorah – Taking a break._

_Shepard,_

_It's bittersweet to be away from the ship like this. Away from the team. I do miss you a lot. But it's good to have some time off before getting back to things. I'm not sure how I feel about the Council sending us on a silly recon mission against the geth. I suppose this is better than allowing the galaxy to panic over the Reapers. Maybe. I don't enjoy having to keep up these sorts of lies… Even if it is for the greater good._

_Everyone in the Migrant Fleet watched the vids of what you accomplished against Sovereign. All seventeen million of us. They're very impressed with you. I'm getting a lot of recognition for serving on your team, and for helping to save the Council. Even my father was moved by what you did._

_I'm not sure how much you know about my people. Probably quite a lot. I remember when I first joined the team, you knew to offer your left hand to me as a quarian. We don't like to use our right hands—our working hands as engineers—for those sorts of things. Most outsiders don't take the time to learn our customs, let alone practice them with us. You are an exception. I never did tell you how much that means to me… Sorry, I'm getting sidetracked. Anyway, my father is a member of the Admiralty Board. He's essentially responsible for the lives of everyone on the Flotilla. And he was always extremely strict. Especially with me. That's beginning to change now. When I got back home, Father actually saluted me. I started crying, and he didn't get angry. He understood. We have a long way to go to make up for the past. For the ways I resented him—and still do. But we're making progress. I have you to thank for that._

_There's another reason why this time off is bittersweet. It's almost the anniversary for when my mother passed away. I was very young when she died, so I don't really remember her. I only have vague memories of her kindness. Kindness that could reach through my father's grumpy exterior. This is something else he and I have been able to talk about. When I complete my Pilgrimage with the gift you gave me, I'll request for my new enviro-suit to have a lot of violet colors. The same as my mother's suit._

_I'm finding ways to appreciate what I have._

_I appreciate you as well, Shepard. Thank you for being everyone's hero. And for being my hero, too._

_-Tali_

I had made a point to reply to Tali's email. To let her know that I had done my research on her people. To tell her I was glad about her father, even though this anniversary should have been a sad one. And to thank her for being on my team; for always showing me that kindness she'd no doubt inherited from her mother. I told her that I was looking forward to seeing her new enviro-suit, too.

That detail about her mother, that violet—I wondered if Tali had imagined it when I gave her that gift.

All as another reason for how emotional she'd gotten that day, in that moment.

And maybe my gesture had locked and sealed in place Tali's feelings for me.

Thinking about it this way, I felt my own appreciation for her grow. More than that, too. More than I could say or admit at a time like this. But I at least enjoyed having this feeling: my honor to protect her.

I missed Tali and Liara both, even with my emotions running haywire over Ashley, over this entire evening. I tried to set this aside for now. I would deal with it later. Tonight was Ashley's night. I didn't want to take away from that in any way, even though I _knew_ how I'd end up acting during the ceremony: pretending to be stoic, and actively avoiding everyone, her included. There was a big reason for that.

Ashley's family would be here. They were already here with her, in fact—her mother, and her three younger sisters, Abby, Lynn, and Sarah.

Just from having walked around Arcturus Station in between meetings with the top brass, I knew that the whole military had found out about our relationship. So far, everyone I came across was entirely respectful toward me, with plenty of them even smiling and making light, positive comments about Ashley and me, or how me dating a Williams had changed their mind about the family's history. No one seemed to judge us. Or if they did, those particular people were smart enough to stay quiet about it.

Her family had to know by now.

Aside from Ashley sounding grumpy on most days when I'd start my streams for her, she never gave the impression that her mother or her sisters had a problem with this.

Since I still had some time, I decided to watch an archive of one of my streams from last week.

Skimming through to a point where her mood had improved, I smiled over the memory.

I had played my N7 game for her again that night. This was right after Ashley had just gotten back to her room after a presumably awkward dinner with her family. So by the time I'd loaded into my match, I hadn't expected her to say anything else over voice chat. But during the brief breather before the Cerberus enemies had showed up, and once my teammates appeared on the field nearby, she had surprised me.

Ashley had actually giggled, asking, _"Aww, who's the little guy following you around? Is that a volus?"_

I had swung my camera around with my sniper rifle as my center, aiming my gun down at my teammate: the short, round volus in their all-white breather suit and a huge assault rifle in their hands. As I'd looked at them, the volus had started roll-dodging, rolling around back and forth, making Ashley laugh more. I also recognized their profile name atop their character's head. Infiltrait0rN7. This person had been on my team with me when I'd first played this game for Ashley, and even several times before and after that.

During the match, this teammate of mine did keep following me, as Ashley had pointed out.

On several occasions, I would hear a clicking sound before my shields restored on my own, thanks to the volus actively supporting me. I hadn't necessarily needed it, though this was still a kind gesture.

 _"That's so sweet,"_ noticed Ashley. _"He really cares about you, Skipper. Haven't we seen his name around a lot? N7 Infiltrator or whatever? I'm pretty sure we have. He always scores second right behind you."_

_"Yeah, you're right…"_

So she had suggested, _"Why not add him to your friends list after the match? He's a pretty good player!"_

Not seeing the harm, I had gone ahead and added the person as a friend on my list once the match was over.

We had then played another match together, with both of us picking krogan characters that time. Cheering Ashley up some more, my new friend and I had showed her the proper etiquette when playing with another krogan in this game: making sure to headbutt each other in between enemy waves, just to be silly, and for the camaraderie. After that, our other two random teammates had gone into the next match with us, also as krogan, following our lead. We'd made Ashley crack up the whole time as the four of us demolished the map, headbutting and melee attacking everything that moved.

Eventually, later on in the stream, Ashley had gone quiet. I'd heard the alert to her omni-tool. I had been able to tell that she was in the middle of reading something, reading an email. Knowing that, and knowing what this was all about, my nerves had picked up. I had been in some weird mix of wanting to smile and forcing myself not to say anything.

After some time, I'd prompted her, _"Something wrong, babe?"_

Incredulous, Ashley had murmured, _"I just got an email from the N7 program. Someone recommended my name… An 'anonymous' commendation. They think I have what it takes for this. An N7 Soldier."_

 _"I'm not surprised,"_ I had said, trying to play it off. _"You could handle the training. An N7 Soldier would suit you perfectly. Whatever specialization you choose, I'm sure you'd do well. You're up for it."_

_"That means a lot to me, coming from you… Thanks, Skipper."_

_"What do you think you'll do? Will you accept the offer?"_

_"I will at some point,"_ she had confirmed, _"Just not right now. Depending on my specialization, the training would take at least a year…wouldn't it?"_

 _"Usually, yes,"_ I had replied. _"Never more than a year and a half or so."_

Ashley had sighed in disappointment. _"That'd get in the way of the mission. Maybe I should think it over first. A year, year and a half is a long time."_

_"Think it over, then. I don't want you to rule it out. Let's play it by ear for now and see what happens."_

The way she'd returned to her silence, I could tell:

Ashley knew that I was the 'anonymous' person who had given her the N7 commendation.

Watching the rest of this did cheer me up a bit, thinking back to how badly Ashley had wanted to ask if it was me, and to thank me for the opportunity, for believing in her. I had sent her some flowers, too, though again, as an anonymous thing. She couldn't have known at the time that this was only the beginning.

And I needed the slight cheer, and the reminder, since it was time to get going now.

Oddly punctual, Joker knocked on my door, saying, "Hey, Commander! You ready to party or what?"

I went to meet him outside, already hearing a bunch of other people on their way to the ceremony.

When I opened the door, Joker was there in the hall, grinning at me in his blue and gold dress uniform for junior officers. I almost couldn't believe how put-together he was—and that he'd actually left his SR-1 cap back in his room, showing his full head of short, dark brown hair. He hadn't shaved that beard of his. Not that he needed to.

"Looking good, Shepard!" praised Joker, right as I locked my door behind me. "Not too surprised, though. You pretty much always clean up, even in your stealth suit. Nice to see you in something more _formal_ for a change, Ma'am."

"You, too, Joker," I replied, leaving down the hall with him. "Just don't tell me you spoiled the surprise."

"What?! Come on, why would you think that? Until the Alliance sent Ash the message, I didn't say a word to her about it! She's the one who brought it up, not me. I can keep a secret, okay?"

"I'm only making sure."

"Uh-huh," said Joker, raising a brow at me. "Besides, I did see her a few hours ago. Bumped into her when she first got here. She tried to ask me where you were, and I didn't tell her a thing! Cut me some slack here." Then he remembered: "Oh, yeah, by the way… Ashley's Mom and two of her sisters didn't look too happy when they were with her. It was weird."

Dreading the worst, I asked, "What do you mean?"

"Well, let's just say I found out a while ago why Ash was in the closet… I'm pretty sure it's related to this. Like, damn, you saved the Citadel and everything, and her family _still_ can't leave it alone!"

"I understand. Thanks for letting me know."

Joker knew that I didn't want to talk about it.

He respected my silence, letting us stay quiet as we reached the ballroom-like space for the ceremony.

Already filled with dozens of people in their dress uniforms, this bright area was typically reserved for only the most formal of gatherings. Stately and upscale enough, the flooring wasn't quite marble, and the walls weren't quite of the same expected material, not going overboard. The few balconies spread out along the far side led out to the view of the stars beyond the space station. Over the tables gathered on the opposite end, I saw plenty of kiosks for ordering glasses of champagne and a few light meals.

Whoever was already on Arcturus Station had been invited to join, no matter their rank. Top members from Alliance Command were here, along with Councilor Anderson. Even Ambassador Udina had decided to attend, surprisingly enough. Admiral Hackett—who had been promoted to the head of Alliance after the battle—was here as well, talking with Anderson and Udina not too far away.

Since this was about humanity saving the Council and earning our seat with them, and the Alliance formally exonerating General Williams, on top of Ashley's promotion, it only made sense for her ceremony to be here. To a lesser extent, I supposed now was the time for the Alliance to claim that humanity had saved the Citadel, too, after what I had done. So everything had come together for this in a joined celebration.

Plenty of people wanted to talk to me, but I did my best to avoid eye contact with them.

Everyone in the Alliance knew that I wasn't much of a conversationalist. They were content to leave me alone, anyway, smiling at me from a distance, or offering warm words to Joker and me in passing.

I wished Kaidan could've been here for this. But he was still in the hospital in Vancouver, undergoing his treatment. He had at least heard about everything from Ashley by now, since he had emailed me, figuring out that I was the one who'd fought for this on her behalf. He already had some vid-mail recorded to send to her after the ceremony, in order to congratulate her.

For now, though, I stayed with Joker somewhere near a corner with my arms folded, mostly removed from everyone else. We had a good view of the open space where Anderson and the other event organizers stood together, about to start the ceremony. We also saw Ashley with her mother and sisters, talking with a bunch of higher-ups near the front of the crowd. Maybe only for the time being, her family seemed normal enough, smiling as they spoke with everyone near them: accepting the Alliance's praise for Ashley's achievements, and their apologies for the General Williams situation.

Finally getting to see her again after these two weeks, I fought not to stare at Ashley over there. She looked beyond beautiful in her new dress uniform, the piping over her shoulders already designating her as her new rank of Second Lieutenant. There was something about this Alliance shade of blue that brought out the kindness in her bright eyes as she talked with the officers there. That old cynicism of hers had diminished and dissolved, at least for this momentous night, as she deserved.

Joker ribbed me, asking, "Hey, aren't we gonna go over there? You know, to be with her for this? Her family can deal, can't they?"

I clamped my crossed arms tighter around myself, looking away.

"Aww, Shepard… Don't tell me you're _shy!"_

"That's enough, Joker," I ordered.

Joker laughed a bit, doing his best to quiet down once the ceremony started.

As expected, Councilor Anderson led everything, giving a speech about recent events first. Humanity had finally earned our seat on the Council, and Anderson was proud to be the first to hold the title. When he mentioned Saren, Sovereign, the geth, and the Citadel, Anderson of course brought up my name, what I had pulled off on my own. As soon as he did, Ashley glanced around, trying to find me. Not wanting to be rude, she didn't spend too long looking, instead returning her attention to the front.

Anderson then brought Admiral Hackett to join him. As our new leader of the Alliance, Hackett was the one to formally exonerate General Williams over his treatment after the First Contact War, apologizing directly to Ashley and to her family just nearby. He also brought up Ashley's father, Serviceman Williams, condemning the discrimination he suffered before his passing just a few years ago.

Likeness between them noticeable, Ashley's mother wouldn't let herself get emotional in front of everyone. I could still tell that the gesture meant everything to her.

And Ashley purposely wouldn't look at her, though she wore a proud smile, glad to have this moment.

As varied mirrors of their oldest sister, Abby, Lynn, and Sarah all seemed relieved in their own, quiet ways, taking everything in.

Anderson and Hackett invited Ashley over to their side, formally acknowledging her promotion to Second Lieutenant—and, again, apologizing for the Alliance having bottlenecked her progress over the years, despite her exemplary test scores and capabilities.

Almost concluding the ceremony, Admiral Hackett stated, "And finally, Lieutenant Williams, I'd like to announce that you've received one final award. As a thank you from the Council for your heroic efforts in saving them, they've agreed that you've earned the Gold Star Commendation for your work."

"Absolutely, Lieutenant," agreed Anderson, smiling at her. "Your leadership aboard the _Destiny Ascension_ saved the galaxy from a lot of grief and unknowns. You and the rest of the _Normandy's_ team have given everyone some peace of mind, knowing that our leaders are still with us during these changing times. Commander Shepard made the best choice in assigning you as her second-in-command. I can't thank you enough for what you've done for us."

Unable to find the right words to say, Ashley only returned his smile.

Hackett held the pin for Ashley's gold star in his hands, saying, "It would make the most sense for your commanding officer to do this…" He looked around. "Commander? Commander Shepard? Wherever you are, come up and join us. I know you're here."

Sniggering, Joker ribbed me again, harder this time.

The people nearby noticed, chuckling at me. As they did, everyone else spotted where I was, pointing me out in the crowd and murmuring in interest.

Untangling this death grip of my arms, I sighed and went over to Ashley in front of everyone.

I still couldn't look at her.

Not directly.

Though the closer I neared, the more I noticed the everlasting beam of Ashley's smile anyway, so much brighter now that I had stopped hiding from her. Even with her family giving me such varied looks—and with Sarah actually looking happy to see me—Ashley couldn't care about that right now. All she wanted was to be here with me, and for the memory of this occasion to live on forever. And after what she and I had both accomplished, she was sure to have her wish come true. History would remember this, and us, forever.

Admiral Hackett nodded to me, knowing.

Councilor Anderson gave me a warm smile.

I had a hard time looking at Ashley standing right in front of me, so I picked up her award first.

She was kind enough not to tease me as I pinned the gold star over her uniform, joined next to the only other commendation she had received on Titan for her bold assault techniques. These two commendations appeared as such a contrast there over her chest: a before and after of how _opportunity_ had changed her entire career. How a real chance had impacted her on such a fundamental level.

I had given Ashley a chance to change my mind, after all.

With that one chance, she had done more than I ever could have imagined. She saw my thoughts as I finally returned her stare.

"Congratulations, Lieutenant Williams," I told her. "You've earned it."

Beaming at me, more, Ashley gave a salute. "Thank you, Commander. Thanks…for giving me a chance, and for believing in me."

I returned her salute, confident that I had made the right decisions, _all_ of the right decisions: _meant to be._

* * *

Once the ceremony itself was over, everyone stuck around afterward, mingling together in the area.

I stayed with Ashley this time, keeping her arm linked through mine. Joker joined us as we talked with Admiral Hackett and Councilor Anderson for a while.

At some point, though, Ambassador Udina barged over to us, interrupting our vibe and our conversation to steal Hackett and Anderson away to go talk to someone else.

"Wow," soured Joker. "That guy never changes. You'd think he'd take that stick out of his ass by now."

Ashley rolled her eyes. "Seems to me like that stick is just way too big for him to take out. It's no wonder he can't do it."

"Oh, so you're gonna leave an easy one for me? Is that it?"

I pointed out, "Looks like _you_ never change, either."

Joker grinned. "Obviously not!"

"Hey, I think you've changed enough," allowed Ashley. "You got all dressed up and came out to see me. _And_ you seriously stayed here on the station with Shepard this whole time, instead of going home to see your Dad and your little sister. You care about me _that much,_ huh?"

"Uh, maybe…? Or _maybe_ I just didn't want the Alliance poking around the _Normandy_ too much without me there! Ever think of that? Jeez, Ash, you're so freaking self-centered…"

"I'll take that as a yes, then!"

While Ashley kept teasing Joker in good-humor, I felt someone tap me on my shoulder.

Or my arm, really, since this person was shorter than me.

Way shorter, I had to look down to regard her properly—and when I did, I found a sixteen-year-old version of Ashley smiling up at me in a mischievous sort of curiosity. This had to be Sarah, the youngest of the family. Even in the almost-ten year age difference between them, I saw so much of Ashley there in the shape of her bright blue eyes, and the general structure of her face. Wearing her long, dark hair down, she had on a nice dress for the occasion, and without much makeup, of course.

As a more naïve echo of her oldest sister, Sarah asked me, "Hey, _you're_ Commander Shepard, right? My sister's girlfriend?"

Joker had said that only _two_ of Ashley's sisters had disapproved alongside her mother, so…

"That's right," I confirmed. "You must be Sarah. I've heard a lot about you."

Sarah giggled for some reason, offering her hand. "Yeah, I am! It's really nice to meet you, Commander. I'm excited!"

I shook her small hand, mindful not to grip as hard as I was used to.

Ashley and Joker were so busy wise-cracking each other, they didn't even notice Sarah here with me.

I wondered, "Why are you excited, exactly?"

Sarah explained, "Ever since my sister got back home, I've been _trying_ to get her to talk to me about you. She wouldn't budge. I knew something was up when I asked about you in one of my vid-mails last month. She didn't respond to me! So then I emailed her, asking again. She responded to everything else I wrote except about you! So now that you're here, I want you to answer my questions. If you're up for it, that is…"

I remembered Ashley describing her youngest sister as the quiet type who was exceptionally smart. No-nonsense, no patience for people thinking she was a pushover just because she didn't talk much, though still very much a recluse who only trusted her oldest sister: Sarah had sounded nothing like the person standing in front of me today. I had assumed that she would never have been this bold and direct. Despite appearing to leave her offer open, she seemed to expect me to go along with the interview she wanted.

Whatever the case, Sarah's impish tone and smile made it difficult for me to tell her no.

Besides, Joker and Ashley had progressed to talking shit to each other now, laughing together.

"All right, then," I accepted. "Have it your way."

"Perfect!" cheered Sarah, pulling me along by the sleeve of my uniform. "Come with me!"

Not really minding either way, I asked, "Where are we going?"

"Away from my sister!"

As Sarah dragged me away to the other end of the ballroom, some of the people around us had to step out of her pre-determined path. Spotting the undeniable resemblance to Ashley, everyone had picked up on what this was all about. Plenty of them laughed to themselves at this sight of me of all people getting tugged around by a sixteen-year-old. I could've sworn I heard Anderson chuckling somewhere, too, making a comment about the excitement of youth.

Secluded from the crowd, Sarah had us stop right near one of the empty balconies.

"Okay, now make a promise," she whispered, serious. "You can't tell my sister _anything_ about this. If she asks, you're not allowed to say a word. Got it?"

"That's fine with me," I told her.

Getting straight to it, Sarah pointed at me, accusing, "So you're the one she's been obsessed over for like the past six years. Aren't you?"

"Yeah, I am… How'd you figure that out?"

"I had no idea who it was for the longest. Just that it was someone. I had a _feeling,_ you know? Then, last week, I thought back to the tiniest thing from like three years ago… I was taking a mythology class in school at the time. You know how we live out on Amaterasu, right? I randomly told my sister one day that Amaterasu is the Japanese goddess of the sun and the universe. She got _super_ weird about it and wouldn't say anything. And then when I saw you with her back there, everything clicked. Your first name is Sol, isn't it? The sun?"

That sounded exactly like the type of clue Ashley would leave behind without realizing it.

When I could only smile, Sarah laughed.

"I knew it!" she said. "This has been like the biggest mystery about her. You know what else gave it away, too? Her expensive clothes! Her new wardrobe! Did _you_ buy all of that for her?!"

"I might have."

Sarah laughed again. "Yeah, it was you," she figured. "Plus, she's been way happier over the past few months. It's so easy to hear it in her voice from her vid-mails. I wondered what it was. I asked her about it. She wouldn't tell me anything. Now I finally know for sure…"

I noticed how sad she sounded at the end there.

She saw the look of concern in my eyes.

Needing to understand, Sarah asked, "Do you know…why she never told me? I mean, we talk to each other about everything. I have Lynn and Abby, yeah, but _she's_ my big sis. She's the only one who's really there for me no matter what. When I was younger, I kind of noticed that she was sad about something. It made me open up to her more, hoping she would share that part of her with me. Then I ended up finding out through the news that you two are dating… So does she not actually trust me…? Is that it?"

"Sarah, I don't think this is about Ash not trusting you," I explained. "She wasn't sure how to tell you any of this. Considering how the rest of your family reacted, I feel like she was afraid you'd be the same. She didn't want to lose you."

"I get that, but…she didn't even _try_ to tell me at all. No hints. No hypothetical questions. Nothing…"

"Unfortunately, I don't have an answer for that. I'm sorry. All I know is that she didn't want to hurt you."

Not blaming me at all, Sarah frowned in frustration. "Well, it still hurts when she won't say anything," she shared. "I hate that she keeps secrets like this. I hate that my sister lies when she thinks it'll protect someone. I hate that she lies to protect herself! Like, I grew up watching her do that for so long. I lost my voice in a way. I learned to stop talking because that's all she would ever do. Whenever things are too hard for her to deal with, she just shuts down and goes into self-protection mode. I really hate it."

I had a strong feeling that I needed to learn from Sarah about this: "When you noticed your sister doing that, what else did you do? Was there some way you got her to open up and actually talk to you?"

"Honestly, I don't know," she admitted, exasperated. "I tried everything! I tried confronting her—then she argues with me and shuts everything down. I tried waiting a while before asking nicely—then she changes the subject like it's no big deal. I tried giving her space—then she acts like I'm dumb and I forgot what the problem was! I swear, she's exactly like the saying about the women in our family. _We do things when we're ready._ _Not before."_

This was very true…

Sarah stared at me for a short while.

Unreadable, it was difficult to gauge her thoughts like this.

When it seemed like she couldn't figure out what to say, I asked her, "Something else on your mind?"

Sarah wanted to know, "You haven't hurt my sister or anything, have you? Not since you two have been together, at least. Whatever happened before she was your girlfriend doesn't count right now."

"Nothing major," I shared. "I just have a habit of being distant sometimes. She doesn't always like it. I'm working on that."

"Well, I already know that she loves you. It's super obvious. Do you love her…?"

I could barely admit the same to Ashley herself, yet I managed to tell her sister the truth: "Yes, I love her."

"Okay then," accepted Sarah, smiling again. "I want things to stay that way. It's like you make her invincible. It's really special. And promise me you won't ever break her heart! You're not allowed to."

No matter our situation, the words still slipped out: "I promise I won't ever break your sister's heart."

"I believe you, Commander. You're pretty convincing."

"I mean it, Sarah."

"Yeah, I know!" she said, playful. "You know what I _don't_ get, though? Why are you still the same rank as before? You saved the Citadel all on your own! I saw the vids! Why didn't you get a promotion, too? No awards, no medals?"

"I'm ranked high enough as a Spectre," I replied, not wanting to share the rest. "Besides, I think being _Commander_ is part of my brand at this point. I wouldn't want to change it. Don't want to confuse anyone."

Sarah giggled loudly. "Oh, my God, _wow,"_ she expressed. "You sound totally smooth and serious, but it's so hilarious the way you say it! You're like the exact opposite of my big sis. No wonder she's this obsessed with you—"

"HEY! Goddamnit, Sarah!"

Ashley stormed over to us in a rage.

Sarah sighed and rolled her eyes.

"Don't give me that!" snapped Ashley. "You stole Shepard without saying anything! Do you know how freaked out I was when it looked like she just disappeared?! Why the hell didn't you ask first?"

Sassing, Sarah replied, "Because you would've said no. _Obviously."_

"Seriously? What's with the attitude!?"

"I don't have an attitude," claimed Sarah, about to leave. "Look, you're on-edge from dealing with Mom. I get it. Just don't take it out on me anymore. You've been like this ever since you got back home. I'm over it. I'm done." She waved goodbye to me. "Maybe we'll talk again when _someone's_ in a better mood. I bet you can take care of that, can't you? Thanks, Commander!"

I nodded to Sarah as she went, returning to the rest of her family.

Ashley scoffed, watching her go. "God, she's such a brat."

I mentioned, "Now why does that sound familiar?"

"Shepard, stop," she ordered, hitting at my arm. "Don't even. Better yet, why didn't _you_ say anything? Didn't we go over this already…?"

"We did go over this," I conceded. "I'm sorry I didn't let you know. Sorry I worried you. Your sister really wanted to talk to me. You could've called, though. We're in the same system again, remember?"

Sheepish now, Ashley realized that I was right. "I could have, yeah… I should've called you when I first got here, too. We haven't been able to lately. I completely forgot." Putting the incident behind her, she sighed with the realities of the present. "Joker went to his room already. He's going back home to Tiptree tomorrow. It's been two weeks already. Then in two more weeks, it's back to business as usual. Back to work again. Back on the _Normandy_ with everyone _._ Feels weird… Almost like I can't keep up."

Not as secluded anymore, I noticed a few more people starting to move over to this area.

I also noticed exactly why Ashley was so crestfallen: that specific mention of _everyone_ on the ship.

Setting my hand along the small of her back, I guided Ashley out to the balcony with me.

She went with my movements, leaning into my touch as much as she could. Once we were outside, secluded once more, I made sure that we stayed far enough away from the railing overlooking the wide view of the station. She was much better with heights in relaxed situations like this, but I still didn't want to take any chances. I held Ashley close to me, needing this reminder of how she felt in my arms; needing the stronger reminder of her grip around my back, my shoulders. I had missed this certainty of having her waist locked in my hold, feeling the way she breathed against me, her chest pressed so tightly beneath mine. Even now, it didn't matter where we were—I felt myself starting and starting, stroked as a match to catch fire each time Ashley stroked me, stroking my neck up to my hair, _craving._

Moaning with the same, Ashley sighed against my uniform collar. _"Fuck,_ I missed you, Shepard… I lost count of how many times I wanted to ask if we could— _you know…_ I needed to let you hear me, at least. It was so bad." Calming a bit, she slowed her breathing this time. "And not just with sex, either. Whenever I was in my bed, I wanted you to hold me again. Actually getting to sleep with you before Ilos was so perfect. I kept thinking about it, every night."

"I missed you, too, Ash," I expressed. "For the same reasons."

"Well, we're not going through that again," declared Ashley. "I'm staying with you now. That's final."

"I'm glad to hear it, babe. I'll take you back to my apartment once you're ready to head out. But what about your family?"

Ashley shook her head against me. "I told them I was only staying for two weeks," she said. "After that, I planned on surprising you at home with a more permanent visit. Funny coincidence—you were here the whole time. And then you surprised _me_ with this. You changed my career, my life. _Everything."_

Breathing harder now in frustration, Ashley's pain was clear to me.

Still, I wanted her to say it. "Talk to me, Ash. Tell me what's on your mind."

"Shepard, after _everything_ you did for me, for my family…my mother and my two other sisters refuse to change their fucking ways. You argued my case for me, helped me get this promotion I've always wanted. _And_ you got granddad exonerated. Formally exonerated by the Alliance! Admiral Hackett even apologized for the way my Dad got screwed over while he was still alive! You did all of that because you care, because you believe in me, and they still look at you like you're some _demon_ out to corrupt me…"

The way Ashley said that word— _demon_ …

I caught an otherworldly amount of anger and hatred there in her tone, her pronunciation.

As far-removed as I was from the idea of family, I wasn't personally hurt by anything she said. I only ached because she was upset, because the rest of her relatives couldn't get over this. I didn't know what to say, either. All I could do was hold her tighter, tighter and more supportive, supporting her softer and stronger: as strong as my love for her.

I worried for her, too. Now more than ever.

With the rest of Ashley's stresses and concerns and secrets, this just added more to the already-dangerous pile of her problems.

Holding her in my arms like this, I felt her—I felt the way that Ashley could have easily snapped at any moment, acting out in aggression over her anguish. By the sounds of things, she had already taken out some of her anger on Sarah back home. Yet by some miracle, Ashley didn't do the same with me. She allowed me to reset her as much as possible, bringing her back to a relatively normal level again. She held me even tighter as I did this, unintentionally, needing me as much as she did.

Ashley leaned on me completely as her rock, her true emotional support.

Needing her to need me like this, I couldn't help loving her more for it, warmed and heated by her.

Validated by the way she set her pride aside to be this way with me, I adored her so much more.

"Ashley," I said, stroking her hair. "I love you. I'm here for you. And I would do anything for you. I mean it."

"I love you, too, Shepard," she said back, somehow smiling. "You don't know how many times I've heard that. _I'd do anything for you._ You're the first person I actually believe. Because you've already done it! You've already done everything; way more than I could've ever asked for. God, you're such a miracle to me."

As her miracle, I truly wanted to give her anything and everything.

On a smaller scale, I could have given Ashley a rose one day of the week, the same rose on the second day, and the same on the third day. I could have done this every single day, for the rest of days. And she still would have been just as grateful, just as sweet in her response as she was on the first day, treating every single gift as a new occurrence, even though she remembered the others perfectly fine. No matter what felt the same, every day with her felt new to me. Every moment with her felt brighter, deeper and more meaningful.

Interrupting these sentiments, an alert sounded to my omni-tool—an email from someone.

Making sure that Ashley didn't mind first, I kept my arms around her, checking to see what this was…

_From: Illusive Man – Congratulations._

_Commander,_

_You may not know who I am, though I know a great deal about you. As anyone in the galaxy should._

_I wanted to congratulate you on a job well done. Taking out Sovereign and saving the Citadel on your own must have been daunting. I respect that you were up to the task. Humanity has made great gains thanks to you, now that we have Councilor Anderson representing our species among the galactic community. And you are of course the first human Spectre. That cannot be overstated._

_I applaud what you have managed to achieve in your career thus far, Commander Shepard. I can only imagine what else is waiting for you out there across time and space. Your strength is your guide, and your will is unyielding. You represent the very best of what humanity has to offer._

_Perhaps someday we will get the chance to meet, and to discuss your great achievements. Something tells me that we just might do so after all. One day._

_-Illusive Man_

How unexpected.

This stranger's praise aside, I couldn't help feeling like I recognized this name from somewhere.

Ashley wondered, "What's up, Skipper? You finish reading that email?"

I showed it to her, letting her read the whole thing.

As she did, Ashley's scowl grew deeper and deeper, until she reached the end.

"Do you know who this is?" I asked her.

"I'd recognize that name anywhere," she sneered. "Remember that Cerberus manifesto, the one that made the organization notorious a while back? This was right after the First Contact War. They claimed that human genocide at the hands of aliens was _inevitable._ So Cerberus was supposed to guard the Charon Relay leading to Earth, protecting us from the so-called alien invasion. Everyone mocked it as some 'survivalist rhetoric written by an illusive man.' That's their leader today. The Illusive Man."

"I remember now… That human nationalist. What the hell is he trying to pull, sending me this email?"

Ashley scowled more, saying, "With all due respect, Sir, you should probably tell him to kiss your ass."

"You're such a charmer, babe," I remarked, closing my omni-tool. "I think I'll just ignore him."

"That works, too."

Quiet again, Ashley and I went back to the strange limbo we had been in earlier, before the ceremony.

Even with this feeling, she let me be here with her like this, not minding who saw or who stared at us from back inside the building. She still wanted the galaxy to know that she was mine. No matter how her family had reacted, she wasn't going to let that stop her. She was able to ignore all of that, for now, her heart and her troubles doubling right back to the one thing that neither of us could disregard.

Ashley pulled away just enough to look at me properly. Gazing up at me, she had so many questions plain there in the depths of her wide eyes. So many questions that I wasn't sure I had the answers to, at least not at this exact moment. So much she wanted to share with me; so much that she worried about, not able to find the solutions she needed on her own. The longer she stared at me, the more she seemed to settle on one particular problem, one particular issue that she couldn't get away from.

Something told me that she had meant to ask me about this after the Citadel. She hadn't for some reason.

"What is it, Ash?"

"I've been kind of scared to bring this up," she shared. "I wanted to keep an eye on you first, but maybe I should just ask. Are you… _okay?_ You know, after Sovereign. When that indoctrination looked like it was about to get to you, I could tell you were in a lot of pain. I wasn't sure what would happen. I felt my heart about to break for you… And then you bounced back. So, I have to know: are you still _you?"_

"Yeah, I'm okay," I reassured her. "I really am. Somehow. Why? Do I not seem like myself?"

"You seem perfectly fine. The same."

I raised my brow. "And that worries you?"

"I don't know," admitted Ashley. "Even though I watched you in real-time, everything still feels hard to believe. Almost like I can't trust my own two eyes. I guess, what I'm trying to say is—I keep expecting something with you to change. Knowing how you pulled all of that off, it makes sense that you might not feel as much for me anymore… But you seem _the same."_

_If anything, I…_

"Why hasn't anything changed with you, Shepard? Why are you still exactly the same as when we woke up together before Ilos? Doesn't that worry you…?"

…

I really couldn't find the words to explain this to her.

I didn't understand this myself.

I didn't understand any of it.

All I knew was that when Ashley looked up at me like this—effortless in her expressiveness, simply trying to get through to me in earnest—I loved her more, not less. I wanted to be around her more than I did yesterday, more than those weeks ago. I needed her with me now more than ever.

So natural in her boundless beauty: the artificial moonlight shining above us was brighter because of her. Not the other way around. Brighter because this light had reached Ashley's skin; farther-reaching because this light shadowed her next to me; and shadowed this very shade because that was what _she_ wanted, that was what she believed, and so that was what I perceived.

Whatever she believed, I felt like I had the power to make it so, only for her, crafting this in her image.

But after everything we'd learned, this was selfish of me. Or maybe it wasn't. I couldn't know. I didn't know:

I didn't know what was true anymore.

Aside from how I felt, my own feelings, and hers for me, I didn't know anything for certain.

Ashley knew that I didn't have any answers to her earlier questions.

So she asked me instead, "Have you talked to her at all?"

"She told me not to," I replied. "Not during the break. I did get an email from her yesterday. Whenever I'm ready, she wants to speak to me in my room."

"That's fair, I guess. I'll just…go down to my room while you do that. Whenever you do it."

I tried reassuring her, "It won't be right away. I'll likely wait a few weeks first."

Weighed down even more, Ashley still nodded. "Okay…"

"Babe, I'm not _doing_ anything with her. And I'm not leaving you."

"Doesn't matter, Shepard," she insisted. "Look, I don't want to get into it. For now, I'm fine. We have time. I still have my freedom with you. There's no reason for me to worry. The rest hasn't hit me yet. When it does, I know things will change with me… I know how I'll react. I know that I'll be a freaking mess over it. I just need to know if you'll still be there for me when that change happens."

Removed enough from everyone back inside, I gave Ashley my lips over hers as this first promise. She moved into me more, finding the rest of my assurances here, reserved for her alone and no one else. I couldn't find a way to convey anything more, so ambiguous and illegible through my intuition: of how convinced I was that I had made the right choices, even in my mistakes in the past. Because Ashley was my heart as much as she was my soul, radiating out in this vitality that she had given me.

Until I could find the words, our duty awaited us, waiting to take hold.

_Just another routine mission._


	19. Critical Mission Failure

_"Echoes of Silence" by The Weeknd_

**XIX.** Critical Mission Failure

_(Liara)_

Nearly the end of the solar year.

So close to this end.

I had waited these months out, believing that I would get what I wanted in the end. Six months since meeting Shepard, since joining her team aboard the _Normandy,_ and most of that time I had spent waiting for her. At first, hoping she would notice me on an intimate level. After that, hoping she would come back to me more permanently, and without a mere arrangement. During the interim, I spent my time with Shepard's corporeal presence within me, around me, as a fine way of substituting her stark absence with her warmer, if imaginary company at my side. She was still here with me now in the same ways, this feeling somehow growing stronger by the day, far beyond my mere imagination.

I enjoyed being alone, though I was never lonely, because I had Shepard here.

I had found it simple enough to be patient this way, not seeing the miscalculations I had made.

I had underestimated how hard she would fall for Ashley, and how quickly this would happen.

I had mistakenly believed that their initial involvement with each other would burn out soon enough.

I had misinterpreted the durability of Shepard's limits and tolerances in the face of Ashley's many _human_ flaws, judging her likely reactions in too logical a way. Taking the data points from all of Shepard's past relationships, friendships, acquaintances—everything that I could reach from her memories—I had ran the simulations and found that Ashley's behavior would create too much friction and resentment. Even so, Shepard's final breaking point, her absolute limit, was still clear to me. No matter how much they loved each other, I understood with absolute certainty that their relationship would not last after this catastrophic upheaval. The relationship would not continue, though Shepard's feelings would probably remain, depending on the exact situation.

There was no denying that Ashley would one day cross this line as the doomsday scenario.

Among my countless mistakes and more recent recalculations, this single outcome remained clear.

This remained clear, even after I'd had to press the reset button on my bond with Shepard _once again,_ unbeknownst to her, after everything had malfunctioned and remained stuck in a loop. I knew that she had done this on purpose right before Ilos, before our unproductive meeting with the Council. I'd had to restore and rectify this overnight, coming close to fixing things on my own just as Shepard had knocked on my door to check on me. She had provided the final piece when she'd held me again. Her tenderness in that moment had restored things back to normal, helping me to hide my presence away from her and Ashley both. They could not sense me anywhere. They could not know that I was still here.

In stealth, I could once again feel Shepard as normal, and Ashley as well by extension. I thought it best to stop relying on the information there, and to stop 'checking in' with them as often as I had before, in order to appear oblivious. I did not wish to suffer any further system failures or meddling, so to speak.

Though I did not want Shepard to suffer through such heartbreak, I understood that it was only a matter of time before Ashley hurt her far too much. This was the only true way she would return to me, voluntarily, of her own free will. At this point, after so many setbacks and failures, it certainly would have been easier to let all of this go—to stop trying. Yet I had already promised Shepard that I would not give up on her. Giving up on our bond could have had such disastrous effects, after all…

So I continued waiting.

I continued waiting in the long-term for Shepard to make that decision on her own.

I continued waiting in the short-term for her to call me to her private cabin, and for us to have that talk.

In the meantime, I reflected on all of this data: how I had overestimated the wrong emotions.

I had misjudged the lasting effects of Shepard's own feelings for me.

And I had been a fool to believe that Shepard would work to keep our arrangement together, our half-commitment to one another, even with the presence of someone far more compelling. I understood now that this current outcome was inevitable. If I had instead asked Shepard to be in a dedicated relationship with me, I finally saw how that would have turned out: she either would have declined, breaking my heart sooner, or she would have constantly suffered Ashley's many temptations—if not outright giving into her and being unfaithful to me—breaking my heart eventually that way.

Perhaps I knew this at the time when I chose to let Shepard go. When I gave her my non-literal goodbye on her birthday. When I watched her fall in love with another woman, and in such a different way than how she had fallen in love with me without realizing it.

I saw for myself that Ashley was the one Shepard wanted in totality. _This_ was the bold, high-strung, obsessive, outgoing, passionate, unrestrained, and reckless woman of her wildest romantic dreams.

I saw that Shepard only understood this on an intrinsic level: that she primarily needed the stability I provided. Because I would continue to provide it whether we were together or not, whether we were in the same room or not; whether we were in the same plane of time and space or not. Shepard could have her intense and fanatical love affair with someone else without suffering the usual consequences of her resentment and possibly eroding feelings…because I had rendered her immune to those consequences in the first place. She had my stability. She had my care. She was in my hands whether she actively realized this or not. She trusted me completely as she had said, entrusting me to exist in this unconscious space where no living being should have ever been able to reach.

In the end, my short-term problems and need to _wait_ were my fault.

In the end, Shepard was free to love Ashley this hard and this openly…because of me.

Certainly, Shepard's feelings and emotions for Ashley were her own. There was no denying that. I had nothing to do with the strength or the severity of things. Not in that way.

But the matter of Shepard's near-endless supply of patience and acceptance, of her almost-unlimited limits and tolerances for Ashley above all—I had threaded this in her, opening her to these newfound abilities much sooner than she should have been able to access them. I saw that she could have reached this point on her own eventually. She absolutely could have done so. Just not this quickly, per my initial miscalculations and misjudgments. Not this violently and without cease.

_I had done this to myself._

I had opened Shepard to the universe, and in doing so, I had somehow taught her how to love as an action, and not only as a feeling. She had already had this potential in her. She had already been more than capable of doing it by herself, without my support and my inspiration. Due to how closed-off she had once been, this nature had been obscured until I had opened and unlocked her, all of her.

And I found that I could not control Shepard's thoughts, her feelings or her raw emotions, but I absolutely had the power to close her again. Just as she could stop me from accessing her thoughts and feelings, I could stop her from accessing her reserves of patience and acceptance and thoughtfulness and care—any qualities of hers linked to a general sense of mental stability and emotional maturity.

I learned that Ashley was somehow linked to this. She could never have control in the ways that I did, though it was possible for her to at least gain a foothold here in this space, and for Shepard to lean on her for support. A normal sense, a general sense for us as organic species to rely on one another through our relationships, to view the other person as our 'rock': Shepard certainly needed Ashley to need her, but she had yet to open her heart completely, needing Ashley in this more direct way.

Shepard could _say_ that she needed her.

She could proclaim the words.

I saw for myself that she was not there yet, not one hundred percent. Perhaps not even halfway. Although wherever Shepard was on this spectrum, it was significant for her. She had never experienced anything like this before, and so she could not fathom the real idea that she still had a long way to go.

I wasn't entirely sure that Shepard would ever open up to Ashley like this on her own. I had no control over the matter, either. It remained her decision to make, whether she knew this or not.

A few days ago, I took the risk of briefly testing this for myself.

I didn't want to hurt Shepard in any way, but this was necessary. I could no longer rely on simulations.

These days ago, we were on a mission to an Alliance facility on Luna, Earth's moon. Admiral Hackett had explained that there was a rogue VI on the moon's training ground, causing automated weapons and drones to kill the soldiers there. They could not stop the VI, as it had discovered a way to refuse all shutdown commands. So Hackett had asked for our assistance in destroying the automated systems in the way, before manually shutting down the VI itself.

The team had grown bored of our routine mission of scouting for any remaining hostile geth. We had spent the three weeks or so since our return largely doing the same thing: drifting through various systems in the hopes of finding more geth, to at least have something to report to the Council, and yet we could find none. So we had quickly taken the _Normandy_ off to Luna for this much-needed change of pace.

Given the sheer number of weapons and drones shooting at us in the Mako when we arrived, I'd figured it was best to save my experiment for later on during the mission. I'd waited until we destroyed the guns shooting at us outside above each training facility. I'd waited until we had cleared the individual facilities of the remaining drones and other sabotaged weapons. I'd waited until we were about to finish off the rogue VI completely, after disabling its hardware in the other two buildings on the training grounds.

In the last building, we had located the VI's main control panel. All we'd had left to do was to destroy this equipment, putting an end to the VI's strange behavior. There had been no more hostiles left anywhere in the facility around us, and so I'd decided that this was the perfect opportunity to act.

Shepard had stood with Ashley in front of the VI, trying to make sense of things before outright destroying its hardware. They'd spoken together in a calm, cooperative manner, investigating the control panel while bouncing theories off of one another as to how and why the VI had gone rogue. Tali had been nearby in a corner, surveying the VI's power system. Garrus and Wrex had chatted in another corner, winding down after the pandemonium of the mission. I had decided to watch the doorway, keeping an eye out for any stray hostiles we may have missed. I'd purposely kept my back to the others, to Shepard and Ashley at the panel, needing to maintain some kind of anonymity as I did this:

Like temporarily cutting the systems that powered Shepard's bond with me, I had severed the connection myself, still leaving room to repair it whenever I wanted to afterward.

I had prepared for this loss. I didn't feel anything different.

Or perhaps it was impossible for anything to change for me. Either way, I was perfectly fine.

But Shepard—she had gone quiet then, in that moment.

I'd wished I could have seen her expression.

Though judging by Ashley's reaction, everything had fallen within expected parameters…

"Shepard…? Hey, what's the matter? Skipper, you okay—?"

Inflexible and unyielding, Shepard had snapped at her, "What the hell is wrong with you, Lieutenant? Are you always this casual with your superiors? Breaking protocol and calling me _Skipper_ during an active mission—that shit pisses me off! _I'm your commander._ You think just because I'm fucking you, that gives you permission to call me whatever you want, whenever you want? This has to stop."

Wrex, Tali, and Garrus had stopped what they were doing, turning to stare.

Baffled, Ashley had sputtered back, "Wait, what?! What are you talking about? Where is this coming from!? We were just having a normal conversation! You're acting like total jackass all of a sudden!"

Shepard had scoffed at that, retorting, "What happened to not bucking my orders? Calling me _Skipper,_ and now a jackass. It's clear you're incapable of shutting your damn mouth. I'm sick of it, Williams."

Frustrated, holding it back—Ashley had changed her tone, though her underlying attitude was no less pronounced as she'd responded, "Sir, _with all due respect,_ you're the one who flipped like a light switch… If me calling you Skipper was some kind of trigger, then I'm sorry—"

Interrupting her, Shepard had pointed out the obvious: "No, you're not. You're not sorry. You never fucking apologize to me first! You never do it unless you're trying to get your way. Well, guess what? I'm not falling for it this time." Having reached at something beyond sensitive in her, Ashley had frowned, clearly hurt, yet Shepard had kept going, and kept going, going so far as to raise her voice in anger: "Don't start with this. You think you can act sad and I'll calm down? I'm done with this. I've had enough of you taking advantage of my _patience_ whenever we get into yet another goddamn argument! I'm at my limit with you, Ashley. I'm at my limit and you don't even notice this shit like I do! You don't notice because either you're too selfish or you don't give a fuck! _Which one is it?!"_

Barely restraining her emotions, Ashley had lowered her head, pleading in pain, "Shepard…I don't get where this is coming from, but—can't we talk this out? Just please stop yelling at me… _Please—"_

Shepard had grabbed her sidearm from her hip.

Too shocked by her actions, I hadn't thought to react.

Tali, Garrus, and Wrex hadn't been able to react, either, thrown as they'd already been.

And Shepard had aimed her gun at the VI, shooting it once, twice, three times, each of her shoots booming in a sudden, cracking loudness. Shaking Ashley to her core and in a literal physicality, alarmed by the violence, Shepard hadn't cared at all. She had not cared, giving no reaction when Ashley let out such panicked breaths, ailing. All she had seemed to care about was this mission—the rogue VI was no more now.

Done with all of this, Shepard had made her way out of the room. Or at least she'd tried to. I had been in her way, still standing in the doorway, still pretending as though I knew not why this had occurred.

I'd still had my back to her.

I'd still been unable to process the severity of her reactions, her sheer instability.

To my complete surprise, Shepard had tapped my shoulder, asking in quite a normal, composed tone, "Liara, do you mind moving? It's best if I go outside. I don't want to deal with this right now."

Turning to regard her, I had found Shepard's usual stoicism looking back at me.

Stoicism, blended with her calm.

An eternal calm for me.

I had stepped aside, then, allowing her to pass.

I had watched as Shepard placed her N7 breather helmet over her head, leaving the building.

Wrex, Tali, and Garrus had only been able to stare after her in a stunned silence. They had always known that Shepard and Ashley's relationship was fraught at times, the two of them falling into heated arguments. They had not assumed that this was anything out of the ordinary, aside from Shepard supposedly snapping at Ashley in front of them, instead of in private. They could not know that Shepard had never done such a thing before. They could not guess as to the emotional complexity of this relationship, and so they had abstained from jumping to the correct conclusions about this encounter.

Making up her mind, stubborn—Ashley had chased after Shepard regardless of anything, putting on her own helmet as she ran past me.

Frightened for them, both of them, I had restored my bond with Shepard before Ashley reached her, not wanting the worst to happen.

I had looked to the others, who could only look back at me in helplessness, in confusion.

We'd reached an unspoken agreement to wait until the two of them could talk things over, staying here for the time being.

It shouldn't have mattered to me that Shepard's relationship with Ashley could fall apart so easily like this.

I shouldn't have cared about how this had all made Ashley feel; I shouldn't have been _frightened_ enough to protect her from Shepard's resentment, from her wrath.

I shouldn't have been relieved once I sensed them speaking with one another outside on the moon's surface.

I shouldn't have been pleased that Shepard had managed to apologize to Ashley, explaining that she had lost herself somehow, and that she'd had no idea where she had gone back there. I shouldn't have been calmed by Ashley letting her vulnerabilities show, allowing Shepard to hold her and soothe her and bring her back up. I shouldn't have been glad to see Shepard lower herself, putting Ashley and her emotions first as she threw her own pride away, promising to never do such a thing again, to never hurt her like that in the future.

And once I left outside after some time, I had found the extent of their reconciliation:

Sitting atop the Mako together, Shepard held Ashley close to her as they stared out to the sights beyond the stars. Even in their helmets, in their armor, their tenderness for one another remained undeniable. The full view of Earth glowing there as seas of perfect blue, mountains of craggy gray, plains as vibrant green, and mists of pure white: the pair of them sat there before their homeworld from here on the moon, finding home with one another again. Such an everlasting forgiveness Ashley had in her heart for Shepard, needing her so, the trust between them unbending and unbroken, even after everything.

And even after everything on my end, I remained in awe of my own power over another being like this.

With my control over Shepard's stability, I could have started arguments between them by my own will.

I could have caused absolute mayhem and chaos for them, reverting Shepard back to her closed-off state, where she would have normally shown Ashley such disinterest, and such callous coldness, disregarding everyone and everything except for herself. I could have encouraged a chain reaction where Ashley pushed herself to the brink, trying to chase after Shepard in that coldness, loving her and needing her anyway.

I could have made them both resent one another, hating each other with a passion as strong as the love they shared. I could have splintered their own bond into an abusive one, at least mentally, emotionally.

I could have _forced_ Shepard's relationship with Ashley to end in this way, through my own meddling…

And yet I chose not to.

My reasons were the same that stopped me from pulling the trigger on Virmire.

My reasons were the same that allowed me to enjoy being alone without feeling lonely.

My reasons were the same that validated my findings—that Ashley would ruin everything on her own.

There was no need for me to intervene. No matter how long it took, she would do this to herself, and Shepard would see the truth on her own. I feared for Shepard's reaction, of course…and yet I knew that she would spare me, and that our feelings for one another would remain. I could be patient for this. As selfish and as self-serving as this was, I could accept the logical conclusion at the end of this long road.

Though I could not quite accept what I had _almost_ done to Ashley, and what I had threatened afterward, all for those same reasons as before.

And not just because of how Shepard may have reacted if she learned the truth.

But because of what that incident spoke of me. What it said about me. What it showed me of who I was.

Actually going through with it and destroying Shepard with my own actions…I couldn't have lived with myself afterward had I done this. Had I given into my hatred for someone who did not truly matter; had I allowed the short-term to override my better judgment for this clear, long-term solution. That would have been the true game over for us all—the pinnacle of a critical mission failure.

So I stopped the simulations.

I stopped the tests.

I stopped the experiments.

I stopped 'checking in' with Shepard and Ashley as much as possible, knowing that it would only cause me more pain. I was sick of the pain of watching Shepard kiss someone else. I was sick of the pain of watching Shepard make love to another woman. I was sick to my stomach from _experiencing_ Shepard's sublime perception of this flawed, toxic person whom I despised stronger than anyone in this galaxy.

I resigned myself to waiting this out, despite how uncomfortable I was—despite more than that.

However important I was to Shepard, I could not help feeling the consequences from Virmire anyway.

And so when she called me to her room these few days after the rogue VI mission, I wasn't sure how to react. I had already prepared what to say. I knew to keep pretending as if I could not see and feel everything about her, as was my obsessive wont to do by this point. Yet I had spent all of this time waiting and preparing and pretending. I could hardly get used to the idea of being around her like this again.

When I arrived to Shepard's room, she was the same as ever with me.

Smiling, gentle, she welcomed me back again after such a long time. We sat down on her couch together. Two glasses of Sauvignon Blanc already waiting for us, we drank with one another as we spoke in lightness. Shepard asked me to catch her up on how I had spent my month off on Thessia, and so I did, telling her of my generally uneventful time at home, leaving out how I had missed her in such agony and bleeding pain. She seemed amused by how uneventful my time in fact had been, somehow finding joy in how predictable I was: not wishing to take risks unless absolutely necessary, even with my social life.

I did not ask Shepard for any details about Ashley's promotion, or the time they had spent together on Earth during the remainder of the break. She noticed that I specifically chose not to ask about those things, not even when it appeared to be my turn to do so. Purposeful in her perception, Shepard steered the conversation well away from Ashley, from their time at home with one another.

As limited of a conversationalist as Shepard was, she could only keep this going by herself for so long.

She soon ran out of things to bring up on her own.

I was not at all inclined to bring up something unrelated, simply for the sake of avoiding the real issues.

Noticing this from behind her wine glass, Shepard sipped, once, and asked me, "You have a lot on your mind, don't you? More than you did when you last emailed me during the break. I specifically remember you saying that our talk didn't have to be that involved. Did you mean it at the time?"

 _"At the time,_ I did," I promised. "I thought that my plans for this conversation were set in stone."

"Liara, you sent me that message five weeks ago. A lot can change in five weeks. You know that."

"Then what are you asking me for?"

Shepard saw no way out of this: "I need you to clarify something for me. With this whole thing, our connection…you and I have always had our unspoken relationship. If you and I stay at the same distance we've been at—do you think that's the best idea? I mean, with Sovereign, on that specific day…I guess the timing was right. Our bond was still all right. We were still okay. I'm just trying to figure out what the consequences will be if you and I keep on like this."

Staring down at my half-empty glass, I replied, "I don't have any answers for you, Shepard… This is beyond our comprehension. You can only do what you feel is best."

"I understand that," she said, stiffer than usual. "But I thought you would know more."

"We both have the same information," I insisted, knowing that this was a lie. "It isn't my place to make a choice for you. This is your decision. You will do what you wish to do."

Clamping down on her jaw this time, Shepard continued using such indirect language with me, "Did you not see the consequences a few days ago? Didn't you feel that on the moon, the way things suddenly _ended_ between us? Like a power outage. Like my backup generators came online, and I reverted right back to how I was before all of this started. That's the same insensitive person I was before I met you. Isn't that going to happen in the worst case scenario?"

"Shepard, I do not know what the worst case scenario is," I explained, growing frustrated with this. "I don't know what you mean or what it is you are trying to say. I wish you would just say it, whatever it is. What is so terrible that you aren't able to be direct with me?"

She would not say the words.

Not right away.

Sighing over her strangeness, I drank more wine. It would have been so much easier to see what this was for myself. But then I would've given myself away with my clairvoyance. I had already gotten myself in enough trouble with that sight of mine. I could not afford to continue leaning on it, not even during these unusual times. I had to save it for absolute emergencies, otherwise I would likely pain myself more by accidentally seeing something that I did not wish to know about.

I could not keep on like that, as such a masochist to the truth of Shepard's psychology and desires.

By the time I finished my glass of wine, and she finished hers, I sensed a marked change about her.

Whether Shepard would act on this change, I could not know.

Still controlling herself for the moment, she said in a low voice, "Liara, when we first cooled off, I thought that I would be immune to you by now. Then, when my birthday came around, I accepted that I'm always going to love you. And I thought that was fine—and then Vigil happened. Then Saren and Sovereign happened. I wasn't sure what to believe after the Citadel, so I didn't let myself dwell on it. But when we were on Earth's moon, how I reacted…deep down, I was terrified. I lashed out. I took this out on her. With you…I couldn't do the same. I couldn't hurt you. Even with that blackout, you were _still…"_

Hands shaking in that control, Shepard could not say the words.

Staving off this emergency, I set both of our wine glasses aside, atop the table.

I held both of her hands in mine, stabilizing her as much as I could like this.

"Please say what you mean," I requested, feeling the way she gripped my touch, tighter. "I need you to use your words, Shepard. You must tell me, otherwise I won't know. All I do know is that this has dwelled in the very back of your mind…for a long time now. So I'd like you to share it with me."

Shepard chose anger first: "Why did you let this happen?"

Not understanding, I asked, "Why did I let _what_ happen?"

"Why did you let me fall into this?" she needed to know, still gripping. "Why did you tell me to be with her when you wanted me for yourself? Why did you give up on me? If I mean so damn much to you, then why didn't you fight!? Why did you let yourself get shoved aside to _wait_ on the fucking sidelines?"

We had gone over this already—months ago.

Irrational, stability holding, but barely—Shepard glared at me through her tears brimming along her eyelids, about to slip down that brink to her face.

Giving her the same answers again seemed…pointless.

So I gave her the relevant answer, the words that I had prepared for this conversation, "Because, I honestly feel as though I don't deserve you. _No one_ deserves you, Shepard. Yet we are all here anyway, trying to live up to your expectations of what it means to live and to thrive. I'm not the person you believe I am. I am simply incapable of living up to your expectations. I have failed. I need to accept that."

Shepard growled out her exasperation, " _Goddamnit,_ Liara, why are you so passive?! What the hell are you talking about—you failed? I'm sitting right here in front of you, right now! What does it matter if you _deserve me_ or not?!" She couldn't know, she couldn't know; I only shook my head, incensing her further _._ "I still want you. I still need you. _I still love you._ You know I can't even _function_ without you! You're in this space in my mind, dictating whether I get to keep my own sanity or not! You're the only one in this universe with that power over me, with that control over me… Why are you wasting your own potential to _be_ someone in my eyes? Why do you always give up, over and over again?"

"I will disregard your accusations," I warned, level-headed, "If only because you are misguided. You have no idea the things I've done to not _give up_ on you. I am not passive; I am not wasting anything. _I love you more than you will ever know._ I mean this in every sense of the words. You will never know… And that is how it is supposed to be. There is nothing I can do at this point to change reality."

Shepard let go of my hands, almost throwing my touch away.

Her grip had left these heated prints over my skin from her fingers cutting off my circulation.

I wasn't sure if she wanted to yell at me, to tell me to get out and never come back.

Her frustrations had likely grown out of proportion, from the way she had learned that her own stability was not entirely within her control.

I was in control.

I would not tell her what she wished to hear, just for the sake of it.

That I refused to placate her—or to _change_ —had Shepard more upset than her lack of sovereignty.

"Liara, if you love me so much," accused Shepard, _again,_ "Then why won't you change your approach? You're so damn _cautious,_ like you're diseased. Why do you keep acting like I'll disapprove if you show me who you are? You're stuck in your ways. I don't get it, and it pisses me off. It makes me think you're lying."

"Change…my approach?" I asked, hollow from her poor beliefs about me.

"Yeah, that's right. Isn't that what we're supposed to be doing now?"

"Why would I change for you when you are unwilling to do the same for me? If I showed you who I truly am, it would not end well. If I well and truly decided to _fight_ in the ways you keep imagining, then we would all suffer. You would only react negatively to any change I might show in my attempts to have you to myself. You have already done it before. Why risk it again on a larger scale? You will not change your reactions to suit me, to protect me. I will not change my actions all for a guaranteed loss in your eyes."

"That was petty shit—it's not the same!" claimed Shepard. "This is a completely different situation. If you want me, then fucking act like it. We can't afford to keep sitting around. I already know I'm not going to budge emotionally unless you prove this to me. You have to make me move, otherwise I won't be genuine about anything. So whatever the hell you're holding back needs to come out now."

Not liking this at all, I fought back, "I already know how this would end! It would end exactly the way I expect it to. You love Ashley too much for me to risk fighting for you. So either _you_ will make the choice to be with me instead of her, or we will get nowhere! That is final, Shepard. Do you understand me?"

"How do you know!?" she raged. "How do you know what you've never seen before? How?!"

"I know _you,"_ I told her, pointing out the obvious. "You have already shown me who you are. You will put her above me, above my wants every time, without fail! You left me for her already! You will always put her first… And you will do it again, and again, _and again,_ every time, no matter how hard I try! Any attempt I make to _fight for you_ will only end in critical failure! How many times must I tell you the same thing, over and over again? I should not have to keep repeating myself! You are better than this!"

Standing now, Shepard allowed her loss of control to spiral out from her voice—"Fucking hell, Liara, if you don't try, you don't know anything! Stop patronizing me! Stop condescending me! You can't just claim to _know me_ and that's it, like you know better! Like you know me better than I know myself—"

Standing up, I met her with my own control—"Shepard, _I do_ know you better than you know yourself! That is the whole point! That is why you are so angry right now—because I am in this place that should be your own, because I see you in ways that she will never be able to! I am speaking from experience, from direct knowledge! I am not condescending you! Why can't you accept this and believe me?!"

"Fuck it!" she cursed. "I don't need this bullshit from you. Get out of my room, Liara. _Forget it._ Just leave!"

Beyond irritated with her temper tantrum, I turned and went.

I went up the stairs, past her aquarium, past her closed bathroom, and over to the door.

And I was about to leave.

I was about to go, to retreat to my room and reconsider things—mostly the value of loving someone who could be so shortsighted, so prone to making such hurtful accusations without thinking.

But then I stopped here.

I remembered.

Regardless of her feelings for Ashley or for me, and regardless of her _control,_ the obvious remained:

Shepard bore the weight of the entire galaxy on her shoulders.

She did not simply have that weight there on her person in passivity, struggling to exist underneath it.

In her exceptional willpower, Shepard was strong enough to actively hold up that weight with her honor, her duty, and to bear it proudly. This was the gallantry she'd displayed on the Citadel, earning her that Medal of Honor. This was the hope she had given the trillions of souls spanning our galactic civilization.

Perhaps she did not have the strength to budge, to move.

Perhaps she did not have the strength to change this course her heart was already set on.

And perhaps she did not have the strength, the energy to deal with this on top of her guilt over still loving me anyway, still wanting and needing me despite how much she loved another.

In my own shortsightedness, it did not occur to me that Shepard was, in fact, fallible.

She could not do everything—and here she was, begging for my help in the only way she could.

This was not all, though.

As I heard Shepard's nearing footsteps, stopping just by the brightened water of her aquarium, I felt more. I felt it louder once she stopped there to stare at me, to stare at the back of my head, to stare at my contemplation. I felt it strongest and most stringent as I listened to her breaths so uneven.

That feeling of _loss_ in her heart, so irrational and powerful and traumatizing:

As if I was about to leave her, and she could not handle it.

As if she was about to lose me, and she could not stand it.

As if she suddenly meant less as a person—no matter her many accomplishments—all because I would not turn around and face her; all because I had seemingly kept my back to her for these six months we had known and wanted one another; all because, in letting her go to love someone else, she believed that I did not value her as much as I claimed.

That someone else, she did not _need_ like this, down to the folds of her organs, the blood there. Shepard had only thought she did. She now knew the truth.

Abandoned already, forgotten as an orphan on Earth's streets again, even though I was only here by the door, right in her sights—Shepard didn't want me to go. She didn't want me to give up and leave. She didn't want me to walk out of this door and make her return to her denials about me, about the two of us.

Yet this needed to change somehow. We had to resolve this dilemma. We needed to fix our relationship.

And as I stared at this locked door of her room, I had such a poignant feeling, discerned and shadowed in the _Normandy's_ darkened blue:

This could have been our last conversation.

This could have been…at least for a long while.

With this feeling in mind and in heart, I turned around to look at her.

Those tears in Shepard's sunlit eyes had long-since fallen, highlighted and outlined over her radiant skin in transparency. Just as transparent from her, those same sentiments continued to fall for me and me alone. They kept falling as she stared at me, needing me to help keep her together. She should have fallen that day on the Citadel, and she should have fallen each day afterward, and yet she was still here, unable to move forward without me.

Shepard was the sun, unable to shine without me.

She couldn't keep ignoring this any longer.

I walked over to her, standing before her height above me.

Everlasting in beauty, I held her face this time. Watermarks of my hands here; Shepard did not, could not look away in shame as I had expected. She wrapped her arms around my waist, pulling me so much closer than I thought she could. And as close as we were like this, she could have leaned down to me. She could have breached this space, having me again after so long. She could have taken me back to her bed to _take me,_ rewarding my waiting, my calculating, and my changing that had almost changed too much. She could have finally claimed me completely, letting me be so much better than what she already had. She could have had me in those ways she had suppressed.

After all, I had saved myself for her for so long, _so long—_ for this entire century of my life—no matter what we risked.

She could have…but she chose not to.

Shepard was still with Ashley—that reckless woman who would watch the world burn at her very worst.

Shepard still had their contract.

Shepard could not be with me freely, just as she never could before, only far more pronounced this time.

She clutched me to her instead, breaking our eye contact. I held her head here right over mine, hidden in this shadow of me. Shepard allowed more of her transparency to show, drenching me as this rainfall over the crests of my head. Water over water, seas across seas, she gave me this pleading, entreating:

"Liara, I'm sorry," she whispered, throat clenched for clarity. "I'm sorry I let all of this happen. I _am_ supposed to be better than this. I'm supposed to be…but I'm not. What happened on the moon was such a wake-up call. I knew I needed you before. I had no idea it was this bad… I swear, I didn't know."

"It's all right," I consoled, stroking her hair that shimmered in this indigo darklight. "You couldn't know. Please don't blame yourself for this."

Shepard finally admitted out loud, "I needed you to keep me away from her before. I needed you to do it…because I was terrified of this exact situation. Somewhere, somehow, I knew. I knew that I wouldn't be able to resist her if you left the door open—or even if you didn't. I knew that I wouldn't be able to say no to her once I let myself burn like this. There was still this last thing…this part of me that only you have access to, out of her reach. Without you here, I can't stand on my own two feet."

"Then the solution is clear," I realized. "Don't you agree?"

Shaking her head against me, she sniffled there, breathing out, "I'm too scared to move from where I am. This exact spot helped me finish the mission. This exact place guaranteed me that victory. I get what you said about not wanting to take risks—I get it now, I get it. I don't want to change; I don't want you to leave me; I don't want to hurt her like this anymore."

I felt my own loss in giving up these words, yet I couldn't keep them to myself any longer: "Shepard, you need to be fair to her. _You must._ You owe her that much. Give Ashley a chance tonight. Allow yourself to trust her in the same ways, and see how it feels. You have been so focused on being strong for her, supporting her, nurturing her. You should give her the chance to do the same for you."

Shepard heaved a sigh down to my neck, so heavy as she asked, _"Why?"_

"I believe you are in this much pain because you're convinced that only I am capable of loving you this way. Perhaps it wouldn't be as agonizing if you learned for yourself that she can do this, too. Even though she can't be where I am, you should at least give her the opportunity to do what she can."

"I don't want to have to explain this to her…"

"And you won't need to," I reassured her. "If it's right, if it is meant to be, then she will know enough. Ashley should know once she sees you again. Go to her with your complete transparency for once. Give her your authentic self instead of always trying to be her hero. She will not look down on you for having such strong emotions, Shepard. Not like some of the women from your past, before us."

Acceptance, understanding: Shepard's storm over me began to subside.

Helping her more, I held her face in my both of hands again—as best as I could at this angle. Letting her hide here in this shadow of me, still, I activated my biotics over my touch for her. This small measure of peace reigning between us: I listened as Shepard sighed in a contented harmony. Heavier, she lowered her head over me more. Calming those fears of hers as much as I could, her fetish locked in this memory of us here, of having me here with her in complete trust and vulnerability.

"Please do this for me, Shepard," I murmured into her peace, cementing. "If we are going to fix things and find our balance again, then I need you to be absolutely certain. No matter what happens with her, you and I will live on with one another. I will give you this stability alone if she is unable to provide it for you. I will love you this way on my own if she cannot. If you ever become uncomfortable relying on her, or if you simply prefer to have me here instead, then I will do as you wish. I will support you in whatever capacity you need. I will stand behind you as you remain strong for everyone else, for the rest of the galaxy. To the very end, and even beyond. Will you accept my promise?"

"Yes, Liara," she welcomed, voice trembling in that need. _"Yes…"_

I pulled away a bit, only a bit, for Shepard to look at me properly.

She did so, her eyes, her hair and her skin beamed by the blue of my biotics, of the aquarium next to us.

"Good," I replied, smiling with all that I felt for her.

Shepard sighed once more with my expression, my own acceptance. "Thank you…for understanding."

"I will always do my best to understand you. And I'm sorry as well—for arguing before."

She let herself smile back at me, just enough, with any and all strife between us at last forgiven.

"Now go to her," I requested, ending our powered embrace. "You can't keep putting this off anymore."

"Yeah, okay," she accepted. "I'll spare you the details later… But I'll tell you if anything changes."

"Very well, Shepard. Whenever you would like us to speak again, please let me know. I will return then."

"Sounds good, Liara. I appreciate you doing this for me. You've helped me out more than you know."

I smiled at her one last time, as if I did not know…but sadly, I did. I knew the truth _now,_ so undeniable.

I returned to my room, holding this in, holding this old, obvious knowledge in, and the implications of it. I had been so blind to this before. Not anymore, not anymore.

Passing by Tali, Wrex, and Garrus on their way to the mess hall for dinner together, I smiled at them as they smiled back at me—even Tali from behind her mask, the brights of her eyes angling up as much. They invited me to join them, to share a meal with them. I had to predictably decline, lying by claiming that I was not hungry. And they believed me, as I was ever so prone to forego eating with them, to avoid Ashley as much as possible, avoiding the truth of the matter.

Far more humiliating, I could not face Tali at a time like this. I had made promises to her in private. Promises about Shepard. Promises that Shepard's relationship with Ashley would not last forever. Partly to help Tali maintain and improve her friendship with Ashley, with this secret advantage that no one else could know about. And if I were to admit the truth, I knew that I would only devastate her. I could not go through with it. I could not stand to put my own best friend through so much pain. I could not fathom that my own hubris had made me make those promises to her, not knowing any better. I could not look her in the eye and say that her patience may have been all for nothing in the end…just as mine was. Just as it always had been.

Even after all of my waiting…I lay down alone in this bed for the umpteenth time.

I knew, in the end, that it was pointless to continue remembering Shepard, remembering these memories of her here with me, _once._ Remembering how she had kept going for me for hours. Remembering how I'd had her under my control in her uncontrollable need to please me, over and over again. Remembering how I'd thought there was more to us, how I'd believed there would be more to us, and how I'd needed her to stay with me in our arrangement until I was ready for us to commit to one another. Remembering how she had lied to herself to be with me when she already wanted another woman instead.

Tonight, I had lied to her by not telling her the truth of what I saw, the severity of it:

Shepard had told Ashley during _their night_ before Ilos—she had told Ashley the truth without realizing it.

Shepard had told Ashley that she would sacrifice anything for her.

Risk-averse when it suited her: Shepard would not sacrifice at all, would not take a single step from her place in this galaxy if it was not for Ashley, if it was not in Ashley's honor, if it was not in Ashley's image.

And if this continued—if I supposedly kept all of my promises—then I knew how this would end.

It would end how I expected. Remaining here in this stasis of denial was no longer sustainable for me.

If it meant not risking her life and leaving Ashley alone without her, then Shepard would not hesitate.

Shepard would run away with Ashley. Take her away. She would retreat with her, finding a safe place to hide, to protect her until this was all over. _She would_ _leave me behind._ She would leave this lie, this belief that I was someone I was not. She would take Ashley off to some unknown place where no one could follow them, ignoring that risk: making the ultimate sacrifice for the woman she truly loved.

Shepard would leave everyone to suffer the Reaper invasion without her.

She would sacrifice the lives of trillions, watching the galaxy burn for Ashley's sake.

She would put Ashley first no matter what. She would put Ashley before me, every time. Every time, even with this. Even with this.

Of course, Shepard would always love me. She would always be _in love_ with me…and yet it was not enough to stop this, any of this.

She would have left me behind to continue bleeding for her like this, knowing that I needed her so. She would have, even after my earlier, childish, desperate begging for her to not leave me, to not leave me alone without her.

Once again, I lay here sobbing over her in my false loneliness. Staying as quiet as I could, suffocating my sounds against my pillow that still held some golden brown strands of her hair; hiding from this ship beneath my comforter that somehow still smelled of her black chamomile smoothness, this was all I could do. I could only cling to her ethereal presence here beside me as my pacifier, as my only solace, my only companion.

Once again, I chose not to put up a fight.

Because if I _did_ fight, I knew what I was capable of. I knew how I would kill and destroy to have her to myself. I had nearly done it already. I had nearly destroyed her heart in my selfishness, my impatience. I couldn't go through with it. I couldn't do it. I could never, _ever_ hurt her in that way, even if it meant suffering without her like this. Even if it meant watching her love the very person I had tried to get out of my way. Even if it meant smiling with Tali and the others while I died on the inside. Even if it meant pretending that I was strong enough to deal with this situation when I knew full-well that I was not.

This mind-bending obsession I had for Shepard, this excessive fascination I had for Shepard, this boundary-shattering devotion I had for Shepard, this inability I had to let her go despite the pain, because I loved her, _I loved her so:_ I could not express, I could not _show_ to her, I could not give to her face-to-face, skin-on-skin, basking in her light everlasting. I needed her inside of me, to shape me as hers. I needed her to give me all of those scenarios she had suppressed, as the most intense sex she could ever conceive with another, even with _her._ I needed Shepard to know the truth of what I had done, and for her to take out her anger on me, fucking me relentlessly in hatred; fucking my mind even more so, enough to force such fear and trembling in me, so masochistic, so cathartic—before she finally forgave me again, because I knew she would.

But I was too scared to be completely honest with her. I was too terrified to show and to give Shepard the full extent of my feelings for her, of my raw emotions for her that fueled my calculating obsessions, of how my heart and soul existed for her in a place where there was no space or time. I was far too afraid to move from this spot, no matter how much I cried without her. Too weak in my defeat to that lesser tool, I simply didn't have the strength to push forward. I resigned myself to this critical failure.

 _Once again,_ I let Shepard go like this, for her to make this decision, putting her heart before mine…again.

Our borrowed time together was nearly at an end.

* * *

_(Ashley)_

_We are not now that strength which in old days  
Moved earth and heaven—that which we are, we are:  
One equal temper of heroic hearts,  
Made weak by time and fate, but strong in will  
To strive, to seek, to find, and not to yield._

Sitting still like this in my room, wearing the usual clothes I wore to bed, re-reading "Ulysses" by Tennyson for probably the thousandth time: I should have been anxious. I should have been worried. I should have been paranoid, assuming the worst about what Shepard was actually doing with Liara up in her private cabin, even knowing I could've walked in on them at any moment. I stayed perfectly calm as I curled up in bed with my poetry book. After all, I had always loved this poem, because it was about someone who was stuck somewhere, dreaming of wider adventures out in the world. Someone who couldn't sit still. Someone who thought the worst of their actual place in life.

Six months ago before I joined this team on the _Normandy,_ I'd definitely had that same wanderlust.

I'd had the same outlook on things, hating my place in life, hating that I was stuck in that place because of the stigma surrounding my family's name; hating that Dad had gone through the exact same thing while he was still alive.

These days, I couldn't relate to this poem nearly as much anymore.

I still had plans to read it to Dad's grave the next time I visited him. Hopefully over the coming holidays. Christmas and New Year's were only a few weeks away.

I also had plans to tell him how and why so much had changed with me. We both had Shepard to thank for that, for changing our family's legacy for the better…

As soon as I felt my mind going back there, I had to stop it. But it was way harder to do that now.

That day of Shepard's first 'anonymous' surprise—my N7 Soldier commendation—I noticed the beginnings of this, of how difficult it was to imagine my life without her in it. It had always been hard for me to picture things without Shepard there. I'd always had these same dreams and fantasies about her. When I got the commendation from her, though, that was when everything expanded more. Maybe a little farther outside my comfort zone. Because we couldn't talk about it. Because we weren't on the same wavelength with this. Because it was way too soon.

Then, the next day, the delivery came: adding to the bouquet of roses she had given me back on Earth, which I'd taken back with me to Amaterasu, leaving them there in my room. Shepard had sent me more flowers at home—four gorgeous bouquets of everlasting roses of red and white mixed together—knowing that my family was with me to see. She hadn't included her name that time, or a note, basically hinting that she didn't want me to mention this to her over email, or voice chat while she streamed her games for me to watch. I'd managed not to say anything, even though I'd wanted to thank her, to ask her so badly why she had picked the number four, of four bouquets to send. For my sisters and me, the four of us together? For my birthday in April, the fourth month of the year? For something else instead?

I had five bouquets of everlasting roses from her now. Maybe that included my mother, the five of us.

And then, that same day, that was when the email came in from Alliance Command.

The email…about my immediate promotion to Second Lieutenant in light of my work and accomplishments throughout the years, and while serving aboard the _Normandy._ Along with a promise to exonerate granddad, to make sure that the Williams family wasn't blacklisted anymore. All of this during that formal ceremony at Arcturus Station with Admiral Hackett and Councilor Anderson.

Thinking back on it now, I wasn't sure what had made me more emotional at the time: that I'd lived to see the day finally come, or that Shepard chose to keep a low-profile about it, pretending like she didn't have such a huge hand in making sure this happened for me, for my family, fighting for us like this.

As ungrateful as my mother was, and as Lynn and Abby were, it couldn't matter to me right now.

Shepard was everything to me.

She was my family, too.

Even though this probably would've made her uncomfortable if I told her, she had to know by now.

Now more than ever, I wanted to give her a family. _I wanted to,_ and not just as a far-off fantasy I forced myself to keep setting aside. I couldn't care about that shit Liara had threatened. I couldn't let myself go back to that dark, terrifying place. There was no point. Aside from that sudden argument Shepard and I'd had a few days ago on the moon, we were fine… Even though she'd hurt me a lot, I forgave her pretty much right away. I had forgiven her as soon as I'd looked at the rogue VI's console after Shepard had destroyed it, seeing the binary code there spelling out an S.O.S., like the VI was afraid somehow. Like that whole thing was a cry for help.

That had made me see how Shepard must've been afraid in that moment, too. Something had happened, and she was afraid, so she'd lashed out. I couldn't blame her for it. After Sovereign, she was bound to have some issues come up here and there. I was just grateful that she didn't have to worry about anything more. She was okay. She was still the same person she was before the battle.

That day on the Citadel, when I could only _watch_ through her eyes as she talked Saren down, as she disabled Sovereign all on her own…I could never forget how incredible she was for pulling that off. I had been so scared for her at the time—but I'd refused to let that get to me. I had prayed for her with all my heart. I'd prayed, and I'd believed: and before I knew it, she'd succeeded. The best infiltrator in the galaxy, helping to take down a Reaper all alone, because of those protections she had… Right then and there, I fell in love with her so much harder, way beyond what was possible; way beyond all reason.

This want of mine turned into an absolute _need_ as I sat here in my bunk, staring at the page of this poem.

This poem that had once defined my life, completely.

I had to turn to a new page.

I didn't want Shepard to feel like an orphan anymore whenever she was lost.

I wanted her to know that she didn't need to feel lost at all. Not now, not ever. Not with me.

Despite everything, Shepard had me. I was here. And I wanted to be everything for her, just like she was for me. I loved this _feeling_ of being whole. This was better than us being apart like we were before…even with these barriers in our way.

When a gentle knock sounded at my door, I looked up in surprise.

It couldn't have been Tali asking about dinner. I had already told her that I ate earlier. I wasn't hungry.

Who else would be this soft with their knocking, if not her?

Paranoid this time for real, I braced my defenses. Half-expecting this to be Liara ready to shoot me down, I prepared myself for anything. Ever since that day on Virmire, I'd always had to do this. I refused to let her catch me off-guard again. I had to be more alert from now on as long as she was still around.

When I answered the door, though, my defenses fell to the floor.

Shepard was there in her Alliance fatigues, gazing down at me in patience.

Her skin beamed more than usual in the faded blue lighting of the hallway, soaking it all in. She was damp, too, like she had just gotten out of the shower. I smelled that freshness of her scent once I let her walk past me, into my room, the door locking behind her. I sensed it all for myself once Shepard pulled me close, angling me into her with a protectiveness she'd never fully given me before. She brought me even closer once she heard my surprise, and more—once I _felt_ her between me, against me—

"Shepard!" I gasped, pulling away. "Are you… _asking me_ for something? Here in my room this time?"

"Not right away, babe," she promised, genuine. Shepard stroked my reddened face, asking, "How long did you spend in your bed before, dreaming about me? I can make that old wish come true for you. Besides, I want to finish what we started here months ago. You know what I mean."

When she put it that way, I couldn't help smiling at her.

Shepard shaped her own smile so charming, _so gorgeous_ in how handsome she was _,_ it made my heart ache.

I held her lithe hand in mine, bringing her with me to my bed.

Sitting together, side-by-side, I watched Shepard as she looked at my table, my things there. She definitely noticed that I didn't have my flowers here; I'd already told her that I had brought them back home with me before. She mostly took note of all my poetry books. The datapads underneath the books, she couldn't see them, and she couldn't know that I'd written dozens of my own love sonnets there…all of them for her. I considered letting her read them now, but I was still way too embarrassed.

Shepard picked up the book I had been reading just before she got here.

"Alfred Tennyson?" she wondered, recognizing the poem. "I remember you mentioning him a while ago."

"Yeah, he's a favorite of mine," I shared. "Dad, too. He passed it on to me."

"Did your father also write his own poetry? Or is that just you?"

When I couldn't answer her, feeling _embarrassed_ again, Shepard laughed in gentleness.

"Ash, did you think I forgot? You said something about this when we talked on Noveria in that blizzard."

I sighed, saying, "It's not that… I didn't think you'd mention it, that's all. I know you're not into my sappy poems. So I never bring it up. It's not like I mind, either. We have plenty of other things to talk about."

"Well, it's important to you," she pointed out. "Let me read something of yours."

_"Why…?"_

Shepard smiled wider. "Because your face is getting red again, and now I'm curious," she justified. That didn't help at all… "Babe, don't you think a lot of this started over your poems? The very first time I was here in your room with you, I remember you telling me about them. How you would write those love sonnets and love letters for me, sending them to yourself through your work email, hoping I would find them. I know we never _talk_ about how much you like poetry. This has always been in the back of my mind, though. In a way, it helped bring us together. Just maybe not in the way you originally imagined."

Having her presence here with me like this, I realized how right she was.

In my eyes, Shepard was always right.

She was always right in her judgments, every time, even if she _seemed_ wrong in the moment.

Having Shepard _here with me_ felt right. Especially here in my room, here in my bed where I had spent so many nights pining after her, wanting her, needing her. Hoping she would notice me. Hoping she would finally take the time to see me for who I was instead of going off of what she'd assumed. Agonizing over the possibility that maybe she _had_ already seen me for who I was—all the way—and maybe that was why she couldn't stand me, couldn't stand being around me, couldn't stand looking at me.

Now that she was here, I had to take the chance—I had to ask her directly, instead of only mentioning it.

Setting my poetry book aside, I sat back against my pillows, sitting up. I brought Shepard closer to me, as close as I could. She was too tall to lie down with me properly like this. And I knew she hesitated less because of that, and more because she still had her boots on: she didn't want to get my bed dirty or anything. I smiled over how considerate she was, not minding this awkward position of her sitting and leaning over me, letting me hold her like this.

Listening to this silence, the way she breathed…I started to pick up on something.

Like she might have been in a different kind of mood.

Like she was actually worried, and she only acted this way to pretend she was above it all.

I wanted to ask about this, too, but I felt myself wavering.

Shepard never talked to me about her problems. She never let her emotions show, not all the way. Not even when we had sex. She never shared her feelings with me—unless they were mostly positive, or she could dress them up in that suave charm of hers, floating somewhere high in the sky above me.

Only now did I see how much she'd been holding back with me all this time.

Only now could I tell that Shepard hadn't given me even half of her heart. Maybe not that much. Even though she knew I had given her all of me, she couldn't do the same.

I felt her getting anxious. Losing her patience, like she expected me to say something, do something.

I couldn't say or do the right things unless she gave me some kind of hint, or guidance.

I knew she wouldn't. I knew I had to figure this out on my own.

Buying time, I reached over to my stack of datapads nearby.

Shepard watched as I pulled a random letter over to her, giving it to her.

"I want to share this with you, Skipper," I told her. "Looks like I wrote it a few hours after Eden Prime… I didn't think I'd ever let you see it. I was kind of pathetic at the time. I guess it doesn't matter. Go ahead and read."

As she did, I tried my best to read her instead.

She'd always made that difficult for me. Probably on purpose. This wasn't any different.

Feeling the way Shepard seemed to close herself more, steeling, I got thrown back in time, almost, to when we were in her hometown during shore leave. How she'd avoided me. How she'd acted like nothing was wrong. How she'd put up these same damn barriers of hers, putting on a front, too much like guys usually did, to keep me from seeing her actual emotions. I wasn't sure if she did this because she was afraid of me judging her, or if she was afraid of having anything to be judged in the first place. I wasn't sure if she hid from me like this because she hated her feelings, or if she honestly just didn't trust me in the same ways I trusted her.

I had to admit, too: watching her read this letter of mine where I had pined after her, freaking out; spilling my heart over how I'd pretty much loved her for five years, and how she was the one who made me start questioning my sexuality in the first place…it was like her heart was made of stone or something.

Especially once Shepard finished reading the letter, setting it back with the rest in silence.

No words.

No reaction.

Did she not care about _my_ feelings now?

Or did this have something to do with Liara, their talk?

Trying not to sound offended, I asked her, "Shepard, what's wrong? Why aren't you saying anything?"

"I read your letter already," she admitted. "A while back, in our dream. I read it before I woke you up that night."

Oh…well, that made sense. For some reason, I wasn't surprised.

Shepard wondered, "Are you mad at me?"

"Not because of that," I shared.

"Then what is it…?"

"You already know."

And even though I felt this way, I still held Shepard tighter.

She didn't move away. She didn't shift or try to avoid me. As awkward as we were in this position, she actually let me press her head over my chest, listening to me breathe her in, listening to my emotions.

Osmosis of her memories as much as possible, interspersed over my own: I knew for certain now that Shepard _had_ held back with me, every time.

Every time she'd had me since that night on the roof of the 94 in San Diego, she hadn't given me her whole heart.

Every single time she'd taken me, all of me, she hadn't given all of herself back to me in return.

Especially before Ilos, including when I'd woken up in the middle of the night, I could tell now that Shepard had almost been mechanical with me, paying more attention to what I liked than anything else. I hadn't known any better because it was all still so new to me. I had more experience now that we had spent those last two weeks of the break in her apartment back on Earth, pretty much fucking the entire time, like a marathon in between Shepard taking me out on more romantic dates; even beating those _eight hours_ I'd heard about. And now I could piece together the hints and clues from the handful of times she had almost let go with me. Those things didn't measure up to the whole picture. They were only small pieces when they should have been the full thing, the entire painting—the spectrum of colors and the complete subject.

 _The words_ Shepard had given me—those were real. Those were genuine. Those were her.

The rest didn't add up. The rest didn't connect, didn't flow into each other seamlessly.

I only felt my expectations souring like this because I knew she had it in her.

 _I knew,_ and she held back with me on purpose.

Shepard knew I was pissed off at her. "Ashley, I'm sorry… I have a lot on my mind tonight."

Getting this out of the way: "Does this have to do with Liara somehow? Do you want to be with her?"

"I'm not leaving you for her. _I'm not leaving you._ I could never leave you behind, Ash… I can't. I'm only now realizing how much I've held back with you. I'm not sure if I can handle the whole truth."

I didn't ask Shepard if she was going to leave me for Liara instead. I asked if she _wanted to be with her._

But I had to ignore that, or else.

"What's the whole truth, then? Why do you keep holding back with me?"

"Because…I can't articulate how much I love you. Just saying the words— _I love you_ —is never enough. Just having sex with you is never enough. How I touch you, how I kiss you, the words I give you, the money I spend on you, and whatever else I might do for you—none of it feels like it's ever enough. Nothing I could do for you would possibly be enough. So I blank out, or I cling to what I know instead. Anything to avoid the only answer in front of me. Anything but that. I hate that I'm like this."

The way this heat suddenly radiated from Shepard's skin, from her forehead, from the crown of her sheen of hair beneath my lips, sweat building in frustration and embarrassment both—I felt how serious this was for her. She heard my own understanding, how my heart picked up over this, from her logical passions. I couldn't hide it. I couldn't hide anything from her.

Putting her first, I set aside my own hurt feelings, relying on the strength of our relationship instead.

I let her hear this in my voice, "And what's the answer, Shepard? How did you get to this point?"

"Somewhere along the way, I lost a part of me," she said, aggrieved. "I never learned how to cope with my problems. How to deal with things. I put it off, controlling myself to keep from self-destructing. Except now I see that I'm not my own person anymore. I'm not standing on my own two feet. I don't want to move from this spot."

"That's the answer, isn't it? For you to move. You have to move from this spot you're in."

"I don't _want_ to move!"

Glad that we had gotten somewhere, I held her tighter, asking, "Why not? Why don't you want to?"

"Babe, after everything I've done, I can't stand the thought of you seeing me fall or mess up."

"So you're willing to keep the rest of your heart out of my reach? If it means you get to be perfect in front of me, I can't have all of you?"

Shepard forced herself to sound normal, "I don't know. I hate not knowing. I hate that I can't deal with this. I feel like if I move, if I change, I'll end up giving you a lot of power. You'll shape me differently. I won't know what to expect from my own actions. If I let you become me like I keep thinking about, then that would be the ultimate expression of how much I love you. That is the answer."

And that sounded so beautiful, but… "Could you even do that? I mean, with everything going on…"

For some reason, Shepard wouldn't answer me.

Not because she didn't _have_ an answer.

I could tell that she just didn't want to say it out loud. To put a voice to it.

I changed my question instead: "Skipper, regardless of whatever else…don't you think you could try? At least for tonight. See how it feels." She went still at that; stopped breathing. "Listen, I know you're feeling the weight of the galaxy on your shoulders. I wish you'd share it with me. I'm here for you, too."

"I don't know how to try."

"Don't you think you're being too logical about this?"

Shepard shook her head, insisting, "Ash, I can't help it. That's what frustrates me. I don't know what I've never tried before. I don't know what I've never seen before. _I don't know!_ I feel so fucking inadequate."

Inadequate…

Out of her depth. Out of her comfort zone.

She was always the one guiding me, guiding the rest of us.

At least on an emotional level, maybe it was my turn to do this for her.

I knew well enough by now that Shepard was a visual person. She did need to see things to understand them better. Hell, even during the two weeks we'd spent apart before my promotion, her sex drive had somehow calmed down. Like just because she couldn't _see_ me, it made things more obscure for her. But once we'd made it back to her apartment for the last two weeks of the break, she suddenly saw me again, and then things went back to normal…even with her holding out on me like this, emotionally.

Right now, I finally felt her relying on me.

Shepard needed me to lead her the rest of the way. She was too frustrated to see the details.

The details were so clear to me, because of how different she and I were. I grew up knowing how to love. I had watched my parents and learned so much from them, for better or worse. Shepard didn't have the same upbringing as me. So it was no wonder she couldn't _see_ this. She couldn't have known.

After everything she'd gone through, it was a miracle she'd gotten this far with me at all.

I definitely didn't have room to be selfish or impatient with her. Not with this.

So I suggested, "Would it help if I give you something to imagine? Something to fantasize about. Something to… _kind of_ think about, while you take me."

"What, like role-playing?" she asked, actually sounding open to the idea.

"Emotionally, yeah," I replied. "I spent a lot of time in this bed, fantasizing about you. From day one, I would always think about the same thing… It would always get me off, every single time. I had to stop punishing myself for dwelling on it, no matter how impossible it seemed. What mattered most to me was that it felt right. I couldn't deny that. Once I stopped fighting it, everything fell into place."

Shepard's breathing slowed. Her face heated up way more, wanting me. She knew what this was about.

She loved that I had no brakes, no filter whatsoever.

She loved that I chose not to hold back with her, especially now.

She loved that we were such opposites in a lot of ways, even with this challenge.

Closer, so much closer, I held her to me; I slipped this image into her ear, whispering the sights, the fantasy—"Pretend that we're married. Pretend that I'm your devoted wife. Pretend like we're _trying,_ like you're desperate. Give me that feeling straight from your heart. I don't want you to think anymore."

The second Shepard started shaking in my arms, I knew I had this right.

She knew I wanted more than just pretending, in reality.

We didn't have to talk about that now.

"Ashley, I'm not… _wearing_ one of those."

"Then put it on, Shepard. My closet's right there. Link yours to mine—and then _wear it_ for me." I smiled against her more the harder she breathed, listening to those echoes of her silence through her heated ear. "I'll take my meds and go shower when we're done. I promise. It's way too soon for us to actually go through with anything. I just want to be with you like this tonight. Exactly like this. Make that wish come true for me."

I knew she wanted to ask me _why._

Why this.

Why now.

Why with her.

She knew this was about way more than some cheap thrills for me.

She knew that now was the perfect time for us to feel closer, for that wish to feel real.

She knew she was everything I could ever want in a person, and so much more.

I could tell, though—she needed just a little bit more from me, if not those obvious answers.

Draping my arms around Shepard's strong, stiffened shoulders, I let her feel this shape of my touch in true devotion. I got the response I wanted when she relaxed a little, letting me kiss her neck in this same way, this same shape, this same meaning. Blinding my senses away from Liara's psychotic threats, I blinded myself against this long, sheened sheet of Shepard's hair, so beautiful and healthy. Ignoring the memories of Liara's mind-ending insinuations, I ignored the way Shepard wouldn't let herself fully exist here with me, since she was at least willing to try with me, _trying._ Hating these constant images of Liara making me bleed out my heart's strongest ambitions, I hated that Shepard wasn't just _mine,_ she wasn't only mine, no matter how hard I loved her and how powerful these ambitions of mine were: to be absolutely everything for her.

Especially this, in the future. When we were both ready; when the time was right.

Not _if_ —definitely _when._

"Shepard, you don't have to say anything tonight," I soothed, whispering just over this thunder of her pulse. "You don't have to look at me, either. Go put it on. Wear whatever else you're most comfortable in. Let yourself live in this moment with me." This view out of the corner of my eye, of the endless expanse of stars outside my window as the _Normandy_ drifted on: Shepard was way more to me than any of those dying lights, of those lesser lives out there compared to her, billions and billions. "I know you're scared. I know you don't want to show me that. So let me take over. Let me do this for you. Let me pull the rest of this love out from you. I want to. I _really_ do. Just give me another chance. Please…"

As simple as breathing, Shepard nodded.

She made me smile so much, willing herself to be imperfect like this for me.

I let her go for now, watching her walk over to my holo-closet along the wall, near the window. Those wandering stars outside shined over Shepard's tall, lean body in a stunning contemplation. Her own thinking, her own contemplation brimmed as she changed into her usual boyish tank top and sweatpants, her comforts. Those simple, solid colors. That wordless dominance, and that control of hers in always having _something_ on, never letting herself be fully exposed to me—I had no idea why I liked it so much, to the point where I pulled off my own shirt, leaving my bra and tights pants on, for now.

Once she was done, Shepard kept standing there.

Facing the wall.

Breathing there, trying to find her balance through this new experience.

I actually wanted to keep her off her game, out of her element. I needed the upper-hand over her tonight.

I went over to Shepard, approaching her.

Walking right behind her, I paid close attention to the way she listened to me, listening to my bare footsteps; finding my intentions this way.

When I reached her, I held her close to me again, wrapping my arms around this styled dip of her hips, so sexy.

Listening to Shepard's reactions to me, so quietly off-balance, I pressed my face along her bare shoulder, level with me. I smelled this wonderfully smooth and smart scent of hers through her skin shining in this lightless lighting, her complexion bronzed and naturally moisturized to perfection. From the way I held her, my hands roaming down her front, she had to know that she was the only real source of light here in this room. She had to know that she was the light of my life: the only one I wanted this sun with.

Reaching down between her, over her sweatpants, I grinned against Shepard's shoulder.

"This is perfect, you know," I teased, rounding my hands over her, so rigid in her need. "I love that I can make you this hard. I love that you have no control over it. You just can't resist me, can you?" Rounding more, protruding more: Shepard didn't have that under-armor of hers on. I could feel her freely like this beneath the fabric of her sweats, with only her tight boxer briefs there underneath. "Whenever we do manage to go back home, settle down…I'm not gonna stop doing this. I'm not letting you get comfortable with me, either. There's no way we're growing old and boring together. _No complacency."_

Grabbing Shepard by her hardened shoulders, I spun her around.

Facing me again, I pushed her up against the wall, pulling these stronger exhales from out of her.

She wouldn't look at me, the brights of her striking eyes edged away like crescent glows.

I couldn't mind that at all.

Not with her bulging against me like this, harder and harder the more I smoothed my touch over her.

In the last of Shepard's resistances, she couldn't resist this. She couldn't resist this shape of my hand roaming over her sweatpants, with my short, rounded nails reaching through to her. Exploring in purpose, finding more of her: she could have bucked her knees at any second, listening to me breathe in her ear like this. I had to angle my head up just right to make it happen, but I fucking knew she loved this feeling of my lips over her skin, all as a preview for what I needed to do to her, right in this room, right now.

I reminded her in a smirking whisper, "You can't hide from me, Shepard. Not like this. Not in the way you need me. There's no denying it." Reaching under this elastic band over her waist, I leveled my palm against her boxer briefs, against the outline of this folded opening; Shepard clawed against the wall behind her. "No matter how close we are, I'll never stop pushing you. You have my _promise_ that I'm always gonna be here for you like this. And I want you to feel higher all the time, every time."

Getting down on my knees, I pulled her dick out, whipping it right out between her briefs and sweats.

Rock-hard as Shepard was, I took her in my mouth, halfway first: savoring this make-believe candy of her skin, flavored as her hormones and her essence, just like this. Smirking more, savoring more, these extra tastes of her quieted groans and controlled growls rumbled through to my tongue, to my hands gripping her base, bass thrumming. Strumming deeper, I rocked my taste back and forth against this metaphor of her, so damn stubborn and unyielding, softened only by my breath and my tongue, wetting.

Stubborn and unyielding as ever, Shepard couldn't look at me smirking up at her like this. She stared up at the ceiling of my room, finding the remnants of my fantasies stuck against the surface there. She dug her nails harder into the wall, pushing the back of her head there; gasping her breaths out.

She felt this shape of me over this shape of her, shaping her more against the top of my mouth, the suck of my tongue, and this space I kept, careful to keep my teeth away, all the way away from her. She felt it all, back and forth, up and down—the way she vacuumed the breath from my mouth and throat both—commanding all of me in this space she took up, deeper and deeper in my control.

And I didn't stop.

Breathing enough when I got the chance, I didn't let anything stop me.

Not even when we heard someone knocking at my door, turning me on way more.

"Ashley, are you still in there?" called Tali, knocking again. "Wrex and Garrus are here with me. We just finished eating dinner. You're not busy, are you?"

Making a point, I kept on staring up at Shepard's suffocated struggling, taking more of her in my mouth, as far as I could fit her with her sweatpants and boxer briefs in my way. Suffocating myself in this perfect pain, I worked my jaws as hard as they would go. Needing to suck off Shepard's fucking restraint, I kept doing this. Needing to let her know just how much I _wanted_ everyone to see me right now, down on my knees like this for her, I kept going.

Making a stronger point, I fit this sloped head of her against my throat, slipping this slope down, deeper.

Only when Shepard steeled her fists, ramming against the wall behind her in that damned restraint did the others pick up on this.

I heard Garrus' hushed tones, speculating; Wrex chuckling in agreement.

Just barely, I heard Tali snap at them in her own denials, thinking way too highly of me.

Louder, I worked this open-mouthed way to breathe around Shepard's hard throbbing, as messy as it was: soaked of me, soaked of her, everything mixed together in this thickening taste of her unique, elevated flavor, of a lukewarm, sugarless honey. She _thought_ I didn't notice, but I spotted the way she got even harder, listening to Tali's voice out there. It just spurred me on, making me curious. I couldn't care how much of a mess I was right now. I couldn't give a damn about how much my whole mouth had started to hurt, down to my skull. Starving for her, dehydrated for her, for every second I had spent without her like this, I moaned in this nourishing delight, pushing her, pushing myself more for her.

Tali went on, making Shepard harder, harder, and harder, "Okay, well…we'll be in my room watching movies together. You're free to join us if you want!"

Wrex chuckled more. "Think we've got a pretty good movie going right here."

Garrus cleared his throat, sounding farther and farther away as those sounds echoed, as he walked down the hall, away from my room.

"Wrex, what are you talking about?" retorted Tali, as but a heated whisper, like she seriously thought I couldn't hear her. Shepard fought not to groan too much, knuckles whiting out in her control. "I don't hear them! Besides, why would Shepard do anything with Ashley down here instead of in her private cabin? She knows that my room is right next door. They wouldn't risk this…"

"That helmet of yours must be in the way," explained Wrex, just as quiet; just as convinced I couldn't hear him. "It's subtle, see. They're actually trying to be quiet. You hear those sucking sounds?"

Making a point of her own, Shepard grabbed the back of my head, gripping my scalp through my hair.

She tried to pull me into her, tried to pull my control away, to choke me instead of letting me suck her.

I pushed her wrists away, pulling myself off and out, once, only to catch my breath.

Then I dived right back into her, submerging myself in this hypnotizing taste of hers, driving her harder.

Tali sounded closer, quieter. "No…I don't hear any _sucking,"_ she whispered, probably pressing her head against my door. Smirking way too much now—I knew for a fact that Shepard was trying not to fantasize about Tali too much. And it was perfect. "Oh—wait. I think I can hear them now… That sounds like Ashley, doesn't it?"

"Sure does. I bet she's giving Shepard a hard time, if you know what I mean."

"Yes, maybe I do know…"

When Shepard tried to control me _again,_ I pushed her hands away.

I pinned her thin wrists against the damned wall this time, keeping her locked against her claw marks there.

Lifting myself higher, still on my knees before her, I angled my neck up to push my head down against her, lower and lower. Lower, deeper, I made sure Shepard knew how tight my throat felt wrapped around her. I made sure she knew how much I craved her, obsessing over every angle of her, every vein of her, every pulse of her thundering against my tongue. I made sure she fucking knew that I couldn't breathe without her, that I couldn't live without her, and that I couldn't _be_ without her. And I loved being this unprotected, without any real protection from how much she could have hurt me, destroyed me.

As much as my jaw was on fire right now, Shepard could have set me off in the same ways.

As many nights as I had spent in this room, trying not to cry over her, I felt my eyes tearing up from this pain, from this tearing—but I could take it, I could take anything Shepard needed from me, whether she looked at me or not, whether she said anything directly to me or not, whether she acknowledged me or not.

Whatever her frustrations, Shepard had me right where she wanted.

Scarring her own throat, her voice sounded exactly the way I wanted, so aggressive as she started losing it like this—"Goddamnit, Ashley…you never fucking stop. _Fuck!"_ —spiraling, spiraling as she stood there so tall and proud, spiraling even as our voyeurs reacted as quietly as they could; spiraling into me more.

Spiraling into me, I wanted Shepard to belong to me completely.

Twisting down and turning into me, I needed this throne of her to belong to me entirely.

Throbbing harder, rumbling so deep in my mouth, before firing off: growling in a low, coarse roughness, Shepard lost it between the shape of my strongest smirk, shooting this thick warmth down through my mouth, into my throat. On my knees pained from this hard floor, I lapped her up, lapped everything up, swallowing her fully without wasting a single drop. Eager as I was, depraved as I was, I needed this so much more _because_ she actually let go with me like this. I had to have her, _all of her._

Even once Shepard was done, I still sucked her clean. I still kissed her spotless, adoring this metamorphosis.

Heaving hard there against the wall, she caught her breath, shifting from hard to soft, yet still so eager for me, never quite falling limp, never falling lifeless.

Immortal in her majesty—Shepard had me, forever.

I let go of her wrists, letting her blood circulation get back to normal.

Nowhere near normal after that, I stood up in a trance.

Still working to catch her breath, Shepard stared at me, her eyesight tracing the haze behind my lidded eyes.

Tracing every part of her in my view with my own eyes, I reached up to her hair, to her crown. Wiping away the sweat here, I followed whatever had drenched down to the rest of her face. I kissed those trails away, loving even this taste of her, even this saltwater, this brine of her, exclusively of her.

I whispered over her skin, "I love you, Shepard. I love you so much…" Worshiping her more, I moaned over this second metamorphosis between us, against me—the way Shepard only needed these moments to recharge, steadily getting right back to her mast. "Take me back to bed. Fucking take me, please…" Pulling more from my begging, Shepard caressed her hands up and down my bare waist, my back; snapping my bra off from me, effortless. "Do it exactly the way you had in mind that night. However you wanted to have me when you were here, give it to me this time. Show me."

Tossing my bra aside somewhere, Shepard finally gave into me.

Taking my tight pants off and the rest of me at once, Shepard finally stopped thinking.

I pressed my hands against the wall as she did this, keeping my balance here. Even as she knelt down to the floor, pulling these fabrics off from me, I felt her keeping my balance, too, in the way she held onto my legs with her free arm, locking me here in a reliable lightness. Balanced more, I ran my fingertips along the wall, grasping the clawed marks from her nails gnashed there in strength.

Devoted to me, desperate for me, Shepard carried me to bed in a wanton hurry. Not too reckless, not too inconsiderate, she still took her time in setting me down here, completely bare as I was, keeping my head from hitting the top bunk shielding us here. She only stopped one more time to slip off her sweatpants, kicking them away, before she lunged her body over mine, _urgent_ in her need.

Right away, Shepard surprised me—she slipped her arms beneath both of my legs, lifting. She earned my surprise in every sound like this, knowing who could easily hear me, and not caring; Shepard lifted my legs up to the overhead bunk, slipping herself here against me. Hooking the bends of my legs over her shoulders, she draped me here, my skin over hers, her hard insistence over my slick warming.

Completely deep, all the way—she let me receive her like this, let me take her in at this opened angle.

Unrestrained, I breathed out her name, shaping my voice just like her effort, just like her loving care.

Only able to wrap my arms around her neck, down to her back, I held her like this, closer and closer.

Shepard went for me, in and in and in, constantly deeper, like she was part of me, an extension of me.

Patience rewarded: thoughtless in her love, she gave me this with a creativity fermented over time, giving it to me now, now that I wanted it, now that she couldn't stop herself anymore. Fucking me without rushing, loving me as her one and only in this playing, Shepard had fallen into this experiment as much as I had fallen into the fantasy on my own. She let me pull her in more, so much deeper, as deep as she was inside of me, down to the roots of her, turning me into all she had grown into tonight. Growing thicker in me each time she moved, each time she breathed through me, I shuddered underneath her with this feeling, this minor soak of her starting to slip through me, wading.

Wading through my emotions with eyes closed, Shepard kept her lips over mine, echoing her groans into me. Traces of words unspoken, I felt the way she wanted to speak, to tell me something, to share these sentiments sticking against her throat. She needed my words first, needed to hear me first.

This emotive pulsing of her body's weight over mine, of her pulsing inside of me—I had to tell her:

"Don't ever let me go, Shepard," I obsessed, deep and rhythmic with her absolute effort. "I'm not letting you go. I can't let you go. I can't let anyone else have you. I can't… I won't." She lost herself in me, more, triggering me higher. Gripping her harder against me, I obsessed more in this perfect harmony of her movements, working for me: "You belong to me. You're mine. You're fucking mine and no one else's. I don't care _who else_ wants you… They all had their chance. _You're seriously mine—_ do you hear me?"

Panting against me, hot and humid in her subservience to me—"Yes… _Yes,_ babe, I hear you…"

Needing more than that, I pushed her as she kept pushing into me, divine in the way she made me feel, made me so uniquely hers—"Tell me you won't let me go. Tell me you're mine; tell me you belong to me and only me." Having lost my mind over her a long time ago, I felt such a twisted delight over listening and feeling Shepard do the same, for me, after all this _time._ "I'm sick of hiding how possessive I am over you. I hate pretending like you aren't the single most important being in my life… I don't give a damn if you never act like I'm the same for you—I just need to own you, all of you. So _tell me—"_

Sharper, at the right note, Shepard went at me so much harder.

Harder, louder—she made me react to her, pulling these heated emotions right out from me.

Blinded by her light, I felt my chest about to split open from how much she inspired me, from how much I _couldn't_ let it out, no matter how much I tried.

Unthinking as a reflex, I trapped this gathering heat behind my eyes wide shut, swelling as thickly as I felt Shepard inside of me, exuding more, emanating more, her soul as seed.

"Ashley, I'm yours," she told me, her voice so close to breaking. "I belong to you—you have me. I'm never letting you go—never letting you go."

Weaker and weaker, she made me so fucking weak for her.

Repeating her words, repeating her declarations to me like her body repeating these same motions: "I love you, Ash. I love you, _I love you, I love you…"_ Again and again with her thrusts, Shepard wouldn't stop, wouldn't stop obsessing over me, wouldn't stop elevating me; she wouldn't stop repeating this, repeating this in-time with her thrusts, as deep as she was inside of me; as deep as her words had reached in me, pulling these streams down my eyes, with my throat sore and rasping from the rest I let out for her. "I love you more than anyone—more than anything I can conceive. I'll give you anything, Ashley, anything—anything you want. Whatever you need, it's yours. Anything of me belongs to you. _I belong to you._ Just please don't ever leave me—I need you, all that you are, all of you."

Her promises, her out-of-control begging, as reflexive as my expressiveness, everything:

Clinging to Shepard's words, clinging to her all the way inside of me, I rode this for as long as I could.

So much more than getting me off, this heaven with her surpassed everything, anything. Threads between us binding, throbbing hardest through me, thickened roping as liquid heat—Shepard gave me this risk in totality, owning me, gripping me, filling me with her, all of her. Such a dreamless dream, fulfilling me as much as she filled me, marking me as hers in this single, carnal way I had craved for so long, guilty in how much this had gripped my mind.

Transcending my guilt, my old pain, my lonely nights and years without her—this made up for it all, way more than I ever could've imagined.

All that I was, I held Shepard closer to me once I could, once she let me situate my legs back down.

As she did, I let her kiss away this weakness from my face, cathartic in this special starry sight of her.

This time, though, I was the one who didn't want her to look at me.

Now that Shepard was like this, I almost couldn't stand it.

Lighter in receptiveness to me, yet somehow way more intense in her emotions—this was a lot to handle, especially after what she'd given me, so unexpected. Unexpected, since I hadn't _expected_ her to let go with me like that, not even after the scene I had set up, the sentiments I had shared with her.

Shepard knew.

She knew, and she didn't judge me.

Catching the last of my breath, I bought myself some convenient time. I brought my omni-tool between us, letting Shepard see this orange light glowing in the dark. Understanding, she pulled out from between me—not too fast—but still leaving me with this…void. She looked into my eyes again, and I looked into hers, sharing this transparency with her. A single activation in this pleasant sound, meds entering my system, highlighting my body, my outline: she watched as I took this first precaution, letting me keep my promises, what we had agreed on.

Cautious, I told her, "The meds should work. Just to be sure, though, I'll go take a shower…"

"Not yet, Ash," she murmured, resting over me. "Stay here for a bit first. The shower can wait for now."

I smiled in acceptance. "Okay, then. I'll go when you want me to." Already, Shepard groaned again, her weight feeling heavier against me. "Hey…you tired? We can rest for a while if you are."

 _"Tired…_ that's an understatement."

"Mmm, and why's that?"

Sleepy, adorable—Shepard laughed a little. "You pulled a lot out from me, just like you said you would… Emotionally, I'm exhausted. Never thought I could do something like that…"

"You have a lot of heart, Skipper," I expressed. "More than you showed me. More than I can imagine."

"So do you, babe," she whispered, easing the shape of her words over my lips, before falling asleep. "So do you…"

Holding her in pure safety and comfort like this, I let myself fall into the same exhaustion.

Feeling _everything,_ opened to the universe—Shepard guarded me in her sleep, keeping those demons away from me, those reminders of _someone's_ threats to take my eventual dreams away from me. Protecting me from those memories as she did, I still felt overwhelmed, my sight spilling more underneath her, over and over in controlled, quieted bursts, from how much all of this meant to me. From how much Shepard meant to me. From how much she made me feel, unguarded in my faith for her, even as I had to cling to her in this suddenness as we slept. Suddenness, hitting me like a flash of lightning, of how scared I was of losing her now, now that we were way closer like this.

Closer, closer, as oxygen intertwined to share: I couldn't breathe without her. I couldn't be without her. I couldn't function without her.

Dreaming in peace with me, Shepard kept those nightmares away as a dream catcher for me, ethereal in this misting gold of her everlasting light.

* * *

_(Shepard)_

Dreamless sleep, deadened to all.

This small measure of peace in rest.

This reassurance that I could finally forget myself, not worrying about all that I had outsourced.

Outsourcing responsibility, my own identity, my emotions: I didn't know if I was a real person, or just a mass of ideas of what everyone else wanted me to be. I couldn't know who I actually was. Not beyond my anger, my frustrations. Not outside of my defense mechanisms, my failures, and my mistakes.

For everything else—I was what _she_ wanted me to be.

Her eyes were my mirror.

Her mind was my universe.

Her belief in me was my will.

Without her…who was I?

_"Shepard!"_

Panic in Ashley's voice, in her hold on me rising up, submerged in water, and then breaking the surface:

Breaking me out of my sleep, out of my paralysis—

 _"Shepard!"_ cried Ashley, still underneath me in her bed. "Shepard, you have to wake up! The ship's under attack!"

She shook me awake one more time, one last time, anticipating.

Halfway awake, awake enough—my eyes shot open, wider, finding Ashley here with me, her room aglow in an emergency-red. Fire alarms blaring throughout the _Normandy,_ I felt the heat of an open flame encroaching from another room somewhere among the crew's quarters. By sheer luck, it wasn't Ashley's room. By sheer luck, everything around us still looked in-tact, except for this terror here in Ashley's eyes staring up at me. Still bare to all, she hadn't moved, hadn't left to save herself after I wouldn't wake up before. She waited for me to find my awareness, refusing to leave without me.

This all seemed normal at first—the red, the flames, the alarms, the destruction—all as a regular manifestation of Ashley herself.

This fear in her blazing eyes and bare skin was anything but normal, making me react.

I shot my head up, trying to get out of this bunk.

Anticipating this already, Ashley cradled my head, keeping me from knocking my skull against the top bed. As she did, I found my gratitude for her between this blazing situation. I situated myself off from her, letting Ashley find and put on her clothes scattered across the room. Her armor was still in her locker, accessible from the mess hall, from the cargo hold. I had to get her outside so she could suit up.

Exhaustion creeping down my chest, I forced myself over to Ashley's holo-closet.

Doubt and nihilism slowing me, I barely remembered to put my toy away, to get rid of this distraction.

Malfunctioned senses, skewed priorities: I could hear that Ashley had already thrown on her clothes, able to move as normal even with these occasional, rocking quakes from the ship.

I was about to put on my stealth suit out of habit, still out of it.

Instead, I navigated to my full N7 light armor linked to my breather helmet.

While I did this, I heard a loud, urgent knocking at the door.

Barefoot in her clothes, Ashley crossed the room and opened the door in suddenness.

Right after I changed into my light armor and helmet, sight slotted and obscured, I watched Ashley glare at Liara in a restrained awe. Already in her own armor and helmet, Liara only stared back at Ashley in a muted worry, having already known that I would be here. But even in the middle of this mess, they seemed to find a quiet understanding with one another, despite the lingering edge about them.

Going over to them, I held Ashley around her waist to support her.

Kinetic barriers reinforced for extra protection, Liara glowed in a bright violet hue, trying to stay calm.

"Shepard, Joker's still alone in the cockpit," she informed me. "He won't evacuate."

I reassured her, "Don't worry about that. I'll go deal with him after I activate the distress beacon."

Liara knew what she had to do.

She knew that I trusted her with this, infinitely so.

Through her helmet, something in her eyes was about to break: she didn't want to _leave me._

And I didn't want her to go, either—but we didn't have _time_ for this.

"Liara, get everyone to the escape pods," I ordered, firm in my reliance on her. "We'll meet up with you soon, all right?"

Finding her resolve, Liara regarded me in earnest. "Aye, aye," she complied, leaving down the hall, to Tali's room next door.

With no _time_ to waste, I left with Ashley to the mess hall, getting her to her armor locker. Not wanting to take any chances on the way there, I guarded her with my shielded form as much as I could, still supporting Ashley around her waist as we went. The ship wouldn't stop tilting. The enemy attacking us wouldn't stop. Electrical fires had already broken out in the kitchen. Everywhere else, exposed wires started hanging from the ceiling, from the walls, sparking out in zaps and thick smoke. Overhead sprinklers shot out coned showers of water to no avail—they couldn't keep up for something like this.

At the lockers, I let Ashley put on her own armor and breather helmet of red and black.

No time for fetishes.

No time for comfort.

No time for anything aside from standing against her as Ashley did this, making sure she didn't lose her balance in the process.

Soon enough, Tali rounded the corner with Wrex and Garrus, hurrying over here to the lockers with us. Tali reinforced her enviro-suit with her layer of light armor; Garrus and Wrex scrambled to get their breather helmets on.

"Shepard, Ashley!" shouted Tali over the alarms. "It's good to see you're safe! Liara's still waking the rest of the crew. I think we'll be able to make it in time!"

Set to go in her helmet and armor, Ashley agreed, "Yeah, here's hoping! We should be okay!"

"All of you, get to the evac shuttles," I told them. "I'll activate the distress beacon nearby, then get up to the helm to force Joker out of here."

Tali protested, "But—what if something happens to you? We should go together!"

Wrex countered, "Tali, we have to get going! Let Shepard handle it!"

"Wrex is right!" agreed Garrus. "We have our orders! Come on, let's not put up a fight in the middle of an emergency!"

Trying anyway, fighting anyway—"Shepard, I'm not leaving you or Ashley like this!"

"Tali, there's no time!" I fought back. "I need you to get to safety instead of arguing with me! I won't risk anything happening to you! Get to those escape pods! Get the hell out of here! _Now!"_

Paining me, Tali's emotions carried through even as Wrex and Garrus carried her off, away from here.

Ashley stayed rooted to the spot.

Billowing smoke crowding through this crimson red: she stared at me with clear eyes, clear intentions.

I could either waste time arguing with her, or I could let her come with me.

I grabbed Ashley's hand.

I brought her with me down this long corridor past the mess hall, past the burning kitchen, and down to the very end of this area near the life support pods. Interacting with the control panel, I launched the distress beacon, hoping that the Alliance would make it here in time. While I did this, Ashley had my back, using the fire extinguisher in her hands to put out the pockets of burning embers behind me, keeping our path clear. Those showering sprinklers between the mazes of hanging wires above, however persistent, weren't enough—not with these constant explosions going off, spreading the storms thicker and harsher all around.

Another explosion nearly knocked me back.

Prepared, Ashley stayed behind me, grabbing me and keeping me from falling over an open flame.

As alert as she had been these days, it only made sense that she was somehow ready for this.

I held her hand again, leaving back down this corridor together to find Joker, to get him out of here.

Joker's message sounded with the distress beacon, _"Mayday, mayday, mayday! This is SSV Normandy! We've suffered heavy damage from an unknown enemy!"_

Burning memories, shooting flames, constant seismic movements—I could barely walk in a straight line, thrown off second by second by what had become of the crew deck, what had become of the ship. No time for sentimentality, or to linger here, anywhere: I held Ashley's hand tighter as I led her across, and as she supported me in her sturdier steps. I pushed forward, stopping only when some force blew me back. Every time, Ashley stopped me in place as my rock, stopping us from having to slow down more than absolutely necessary.

Up these spiraled steps blinking in warning red, guiding us up—I brought Ashley up the only way we could go. The other stairwell remained blocked by those hanging wires and flames burning way too strong, and so we had to walk up from this side. That blinking red reflected off of these shining walls. I felt everything about to collapse on us, about to cave in. Only by some miracle did everything hold together, staying strong for our escape.

 _"Come on, baby,"_ coaxed Joker, willing the ship to listen to him. _"Hold together. Hold together!"_

Opening the door to the CIC, to what was left of it: oxygen sucked out to that vacuum of space. Emergency lighting of the ship's interior fell away, overshadowed by what awaited us out here. Overhead, we found the enormous size and light of the nearest planet, observing us through the wreckage of the _Normandy's_ half-broken hull. That mass of snow as a sphere among stars—it stared down at us in a bright, pale contemplation, like an oversized moon, cut by the sheared metals and scraps of what the command center had turned into, barely protecting us from our insignificance.

Even in soundlessness here, I could imagine Ashley's gasp of consciousness as much as I felt it through her hand, through this feeling of her sharp inhale wiring through to me, from everything _hitting her_ at last.

Slowed in this dubious gravity, I walked with Ashley, leading her forward through this brightened vastness.

She held my hand tighter, as tight as she could, signaling her love for me.

I returned and signaled the same, burning with this as much as the rest of the _Normandy_ did.

Past the collapsed mess of the galaxy map, past the debris from the ship floating by up above, past this uneven metal floor leveled by the attack—I brought Ashley with me through it all, over to the bridge. Wreckage of consoles and more torn wires sparking in a powered futility, this graveyard of chairs hovered in our way in the insecure gravity around us. I moved the chairs out of our way, hardly needing to make contact with them before they drifted off on their own. Through more of the same story, hollowing me out all the more, we made it across the bridge, over to the exposed build of the cockpit and the nearby escape pod.

Misted violet haze of the ship's lone kinetic barrier: Joker sat at the helm behind his console aglow in those golden lights. Frantic, his hands scattered across the controls, trying and trying to save the ship, my ship, his home, our home away from home—

Ashley rushed ahead and over to him. "Come on, Joker!" she ordered. "We have to get out of here!"

"No, Ash!" fought Joker. "I won't abandon the _Normandy!_ I can still save her!"

Somewhere out there past the ship's splintered hull, I saw a gigantic rock-like cruiser approaching, returning; preparing another attack as its firing chambers glowed in a powerful menace of lighted preparation. Firing at the _Normandy_ in precision, the enemy cut through again: too close to us, the immediate area behind us, detonating in combusting flames. More scraps, more sparking, more metal twisting and and creaking and breaking beneath the weight of that power trying to destroy us.

My _willpower_ couldn't protect me from something like this.

 _No time—_ I went over to the opposite side of Joker's chair, pulling him out by his arm.

Ashley grabbed his other arm, working with me to get him the hell out of here.

Joker groaned out in pain, complaining, but still limping with us to the escape pod anyway.

Getting Joker into his seat, Ashley and I both made sure he pulled down his over-the-shoulder restraints, safely locking him in place in this small, cramped space.

Putting Ashley first, before myself, always, I helped her into the seat across from him.

Uncooperative—her restraints locked up halfway, half-down over her torso.

Her groans of frustration—she couldn't pull the steel all the way down on her own.

Pushing down on them with her, _pushing:_ time began to pause between this destruction, slowing to a gradual stop.

Knowing the _Normandy_ as well as I did, I felt her last defenses about to fall. I felt her final weaknesses about to show, with that ship in the near-distance refusing to relent, determined to take us all out, no matter how long it took.

My shaking hands, my sight blurring in my knowledge, my decisions, my emotions: I tightened my grip around this rounded steel of Ashley's main protection, forcing it to obey. Forcing it to do as I needed. Forcing it to keep Ashley safe, keeping her from harm, keeping her from the pain of death that I was prepared to face in her stead.

I had to protect her one last time.

Ashley calmed once I helped her secure her over-the-shoulder restraints at last.

Locking down, satisfying, I let myself breathe out once, in my relief, knowing that she would be just fine. She would be okay without me.

As I had prepared for, and could not save myself from in time—as Ashley reached for my hand, to pull me into the escape pod with her and Joker, the rest pulled me back out.

One last explosion, one last implosion, interruption.

Staggering me away in powerlessness, my feet no longer reached the ground.

Blasts of meaning across my meaninglessness in this tearing, twisted place; rages of golden light gunning through this other home I had known across this deployment, housing so much growth and recession in me, receding now; manipulations of my own body, forcing me across and around with no ground, boundlessness ending me, sending me higher up to these unspoken stars; soundless screams of my name from Ashley and Joker as the escape pod shut them off from me, and departed, carrying them away, _to safety,_ to the only place I could ever want them to be.

Away from me.

Far away from me.

So far, so far away, at least for now.

So far away, for the time being, only for us to meet up again soon on this snowy planet staring down at us as this powerful light, passive in capability, passive in perceiving.

Spaced.

Alone.

Silence.

Cradled only from afar by these last scraps of the _Normandy,_ of that metal that had cut at me. Cutting away at my armor that had kept me safe, and these connectors, this tubing: my oxygen supply diffused away beyond my power, beyond my capabilities. Arching back into this pain of my breaths sucked out from my lungs, my equipment failing me—failing like this, failing, as I saw the ship's escape pods through my failing sight, edging toward this planet's orbit for us to all meet up again, soon. So soon, as I suffered this drawn-out pain of death without them, without Liara, without Tali, without Ashley, without the rest of my team and the rest of the galaxy that had believed in me. Without anyone.

I couldn't breathe.

_I couldn't breathe without her…_

Ashley, my second-in-command, safe to live another day, and to survive without me—forever proud of her, I trusted her to stand on my shoulders. I needed her to lead the crew onward to victory, and to protect the galaxy in my stead. To stand atop the ashes of my failure. To carry on my legacy. To find another way.

I believed in her with all of my heart, with this failing heart of mine, running out of oxygen, running out of time.

Steeled as I suffocated out, I fell to this planet's horizon in my final strength.

Strong for this last measure of peace, dissipating to the dawn's light, burning through this atmosphere.

Never burning out my heart's star in her beautiful light, these flames for her never-ending.

Everlasting.


	20. Watch the World Burn - ME2

**_Mass Effect 2_ **

" _Watch the World Burn" from The Dark Knight_

 **XX.** Watch the World Burn

_(Liara)_

Landing on this unknown planet thick with snow, our escape pods from the _Normandy_ had all blanketed the surrounding area within this freezing cold, burrowed here together.

Enclosed within this limited space, I sat with Dr. Chakwas and a few of the ship's other remaining crewmembers. Still finding our bearings after the sudden attack in the night, after the complete destruction of the _Normandy,_ and after our arrival here, none of us spoke a word. We merely stayed here, the stubborn cold from outside steadily seeping through, forcing some of us to shiver in our reflection, our contemplation. I had managed to wake everyone I could, escorting as many of the crew as possible to the escape shuttles. I hadn't been able to save the unfortunate few that had died from the explosions on our way out. Most of us had survived. This was more than I could have hoped for.

Vaguely positive feelings shielding me from this glacial environment, reinforcing my armor: I felt Shepard somewhere on this planet with us. She had successfully evacuated with Joker and Ashley in that case…

Then again, the more I thought about this, the less certain I was.

But if she hadn't escaped, then why did I continue to feel her as normal? Nothing had changed at all.

Despite how _normal_ this felt, a sense of foreboding began to dig into me, far deeper than the cold.

Dissonant in these echoes of the lost, my reliance on Shepard held me in this stable stasis, still dispossessed.

The rest of the crew here with me soon agreed: we needed to find the others, to make sure they were all right. It would likely be some time before the Alliance responded to our distress signal. We needed to be certain that no one would be left behind once that time arrived.

Exiting our escape pod, this planet's pale morning welcomed us. A cold brightness, clear skies, auroras glowing in green and multicolored waves: such a peaceful sight surrounded us despite our situation, despite the unknowns. I helped the immediate crew step out to the snow with me, out to the rising crags of pure ice looking down on us. No sign of other life anywhere, at least not here outside in this temperature—I figured we wouldn't run afoul of any hostiles, though I remained alert nonetheless, ready to use my pistol or my biotics if necessary to protect the non-combatants among our crew.

In the nearest escape pod, I found Engineer Adams with the crewmembers who had accompanied him during our escort. Dr. Chakwas checked everyone individually for any signs of injury from the escape, even as she shuddered from the cold in her relatively thin science clothing. Not too far away, I heard the sounds of another pod opening, with Garrus, Wrex, and Tali making their way out together. I smiled once I saw them, relieved that they were all right.

"Liara!" called Tali, hurrying through the snow to reach me. "I'm so glad you're okay!"

I let myself smile more as she embraced me. "Thank the goddess you're safe, Tali! Are you hurt at all?"

"Somehow, I made it out of there without any suit punctures. I should be fine."

Wrex trudged over to us, looking unharmed. "Good to see you in one piece, Liara," he said.

"I'll say," added Garrus, also seeming well. "That was one hell of an attack… Watching the _Normandy_ fall to pieces like that on our way down here…I'll never forget it. Any idea what that enemy ship was?"

None of us knew enough to even speculate.

Wordless, we accepted that this was quite beyond us at the moment.

There were still a handful of escape shuttles scattered around within walking distance.

And we had yet to find everyone.

Needing to keep moving to ignore this cold, Tali, Wrex, and Garrus followed me as we tallied the rest of the survivors. I did not sense Shepard anywhere among these. She felt as if she was quite a distance away from us. What I did feel from her seemed somewhat stagnant as well. As if something had happened to her, and she was not herself. As if she _hadn't_ evacuated safely in time, arriving here in a different way…

I dreaded the worst once we found Joker and Ashley together in their escape pod—without Shepard.

"Ashley, Joker!" cried Tali, relieved as we reached them. "You both made it!"

Unable to respond, Ashley and Joker merely sat there in their seats. Over-the-shoulder restraints removed, the pair of them stared out at nothing—inside their space, outside to the snow where we were—without saying a word. Shell-shocked and shaking somewhat, not even the cold truly reached them, let alone Tali's words to warm them from their deadened trances.

Tali noticed: "Wait… Where is Shepard? Shouldn't she be here with you?"

Joker pulled down on his SR-1 cap, hiding his face in shame. Blaming himself.

Ashley remained still, unreadable from behind her helmet. Processing without _processing_ anything.

Tali staggered back, well-aware of the implications here.

Garrus turned away from us, unable to face this probable outcome.

Unwilling to give up, Wrex asked me, "Liara, remember back on Feros when you knew where Shepard went? Think you can find her again? Whatever happened…she's gotta be here. Right?"

"Yes, I sense that she is on this planet," I informed everyone. "I can pinpoint her exact location."

Bursting to life, Ashley exited the escape pod. "Then what are we waiting for? We have to find her!"

Joker agreed, though he could not admit as much. The shame of losing the ship, of possibly losing Shepard, and of not being able to get out from his seat—he said nothing as Wrex gently pulled him outside, assisting him more as we pressed on.

Everyone assumed that there was hope. For if I could still _feel_ Shepard in this way, then she was alive.

That was what they believed.

That was what I also wanted to believe. I continued to feel her by my side as if nothing had changed.

Aside from this _stagnant_ feeling from wherever I sensed Shepard's actual body, everything was fine…

We gathered the rest of the crew and set off at once. The group followed me as I led them through these winding paths of ice and snow. So-called shooting stars crested across the sky in brightness, in such beautiful mirrors of the team's hopes. Their hopes of finding Shepard miraculously alive, even after the unavoidable damage she had to have suffered after reaching the planet's atmosphere. Their hopes of finding Shepard barely holding on after such damage, believing her to be invincible, an organic god.

Godly in destruction—we found the wreckage of the _Normandy_ first, the scraps of metal and wiring clawing out above the snowy horizon.

Everyone stopped before this sight, disbelieving.

Scattered throughout this open location, the light snow powdered over the ship's remains. Gentle, delicate, this weather observed our collective mourning over the loss of our united home. Broken and destroyed, what was left of the _Normandy_ cragged across this ice and fresh snow, parts and pieces in large and small chunks, together and separated, joined and splintered. Recognizable sections of the bridge, the mess hall, the crew's quarters, the cargo hold, and even Shepard's private cabin: these had collapsed everywhere, the finest ship in the Alliance military kept as cohesive as possible, if only for this.

Dog tags of stainless steel distributed among this wreckage—the rest of the crew began to collect these, taking stock of the fallen, of those we hadn't been able to save.

Joker, Ashley, Tali, Garrus, and Wrex remained with me.

Hopes dwindling with their footsteps crunching through the snow, I led them to the center of the area.

Covered by a thin coat of snowfall as she lay upon the ground: there was that distinctive black armor she never wore, except for this. Motionless, only the slight cracks and opening in that armor and helmet breathed to the environment around her, to the slight breeze around us. Black and white, with barely-visible spots of charred skin that had burned in the atmosphere, her fate was clear before my eyes…

"Shepard!" cried Ashley, running through the snow to reach her. "Thank God it's you! Oh, thank God…"

She had to know the truth by now.

She knew, and yet her temporary relief in having found Shepard at all—this was enough.

Enough to carry Ashley to Shepard's side, down on her knees; wiping enough of that snow away in devoted work, in desperation. Tali rushed over to help, knowing the same, yet not willing to let the undeniable stop her from doing this. Weighed down by the obvious, so unavoidable, Wrex and Garrus would not, could not take another step forward to the truth. Unwilling, unable—Joker sat down right where he was, almost collapsing there. Facing away, he again curled his cap in shame, blaming himself, _blaming himself_ as he mumbled and cursed, scolding himself for this failure.

Undeniable—the high-rising sounds of Ashley and Tali's anguish across the skies, joined, but powerless.

Just as powerless, I walked toward them, toward the way they had fallen over Shepard's body upon the ground. Her burned corpse, her remains.

Visual dissonance of what I saw before me and what I felt deep in my bones.

Cognitive dissonance of this death and this eternal living embrace from her presence within me.

Sensory dissonance from witnessing Ashley's abject agony wrecking her this way, her entire body shaking in spasms as she gripped at Shepard's armor, gripping the chain of Shepard's dog tags; and how Tali had curled against Shepard's half-exposed arm nearest to her, skin blackened to ashes, muscles reddened to a molten solid; and how I still continued to perceive Shepard as normal and well as she lay there, still viewing Shepard as _normal_ by her echoed company in my skin, as if she had merely decided to take a nap there in her N7 armor, there in the snow.

Resting, for now.

Resting forevermore.

Two single tears slipped down my face in this dissonance, and no more.

I knelt down next to Shepard's head, her helmet having kept her in-tact. Hearing Ashley and Tali's wailing so far away from me, despite their proximity, their nearness, I stared down at Shepard's dog tags. Stainless steel shaking in Ashley's uneven grip from her body's constant spasms, uncontrollable, I saw that N7 designation on one side.

On the other side: her full name, her serial ID, her military branch, and her religious preference for her burial service…

_SHEPARD, SOL  
5923-AC-2826  
SAMC/N  
NO PREFERENCE_

This was her.

 _This was Shepard,_ lifeless before me.

Lifeless, and yet this dissonance kept me in this stasis of uncertainty, not understanding.

Understanding only the loudness of Ashley's shock and despair, of her denials in how she screamed: the sounds as shattering glass, the glass of her heart and mind both shattering to pieces across this snowy landscape. Sustained by my lack of emotional understanding, I could only remain here as a spectator, eclipsed by Ashley and her misery, and even by Tali's, so very overshadowed by all that they both felt.

Listening with logic, and pained by far less, I was the first to realize when help had arrived. Another Alliance ship had responded to the _Normandy's_ distress call, finding us here. I couldn't know how long they'd taken to reach us. I couldn't tell how much longer it took for their crew to take appropriate action: finding a body-sized pod to secure Shepard inside, sealing her from the elements, from the rest of the galaxy. I couldn't see how our own crew took to boarding this new ship, remaining by Shepard's side even as Ashley and Tali continued to sob in helplessness.

No one showed their faces during this trip to Earth, too ashamed to share even our already-collective grief with one another.

I was at least lucid enough to contact Councilor Anderson, after receiving permission from our rescuers to use their comm system. Devastated, Anderson had no room to show as much, bottling away his grief over Shepard as her surrogate father. He promised that he would meet us on Earth as soon as we arrived. Needing to act, needing to organize, and needing to lead, he pushed the rest away, offering me his condolences, before leaving the call to meet us in-person within the coming hours.

To Earth, to America, to San Diego, to the main Alliance Navy base in Shepard's hometown—this procession of Alliance soldiers and the remaining crew from the _Normandy_ insulated Shepard in her protective pod as her temporary coffin. Allowances for this moment, for this upheaval, I was allowed to be here with Shepard, along with Tali, Garrus, Wrex, despite not belonging to the Alliance as non-humans. No one could mind that at this time. No one had the heart to restrict us from any of this, as we were all part of Shepard's team. We were all part of her legacy.

Her legacy, I still found difficult to conceive as something in the present, as reality.

I kept expecting Shepard to wake up at any moment.

I kept thinking that this was all some terrible nightmare that I had yet to wake up from.

Yet I had to come face-to-face with Shepard's legacy—in reality—once Councilor Anderson found us.

In the medical facility, enclosed from the rest of the base and the rampant speculation outside, I remained seated in this private room with the others. Sitting next to me, Tali held on to Ashley, supportive. They had both quieted their crying only from exhaustion, and not from any real lack of tears. Garrus and Wrex sat on the far end of the room, away; still unwilling to show their pain or to share it with any of us. Joker had departed elsewhere already with Dr. Chakwas, as she had sensed his intentions in his despair, and vowed to keep an eye on him, refusing to allow the worst to happen. Caring for him helped her to push through this, too.

Out-of-body, as a spectator to my own surroundings, I listened.

Calm and collected for us, Anderson sat nearest to Ashley, explaining, "They're finishing with the autopsy as we speak. I'm sure you can imagine what the results will be. We don't need to go over them if you'd rather avoid the details." Holding a copy of Shepard's dog tags in his hand, Anderson gazed down at them in thoughtfulness. "I worried that she might not have prepared for something like this. Turns out I was wrong. And thank goodness I was. As terrible as this all is…we have some structure to the madness. We don't have to run around blindly."

Sniffling, Tali asked in a small voice, "What do you mean? How could Shepard have _prepared_ for any of this…?"

Anderson shared, "Every year, the Alliance sends out an email, making sure everyone's filled out their life insurance forms properly. It's about as standard as it gets. Leaving a name for next-of-kin and power of attorney is optional. For all her years of service, Shepard never included a name there. Not until recently." As I knew, he offered Shepard's dog tags to Ashley. "The night before Ilos, she wrote down your name. Your full name. There's no mistaking it." Leaning against Tali, still, Ashley could not stop this quieted stream from falling down her eyes over the news, over the revelation. "She left you everything in her will. Her apartment, her belongings, her fortune. All the files in her omni-tool and her credentials. Her entire estate, her legacy. These are yours now, Ashley. Please, take them."

The chain of that stainless steel chimed against Ashley's hand as she accepted Shepard's identifications, and Shepard's wishes to protect and carry on her will.

"You have authorization to decide how we'll proceed—with the media, with the burial. The Alliance and the government will want to lie her in state at the Capitol. Or you can choose to have the service here in San Diego if you prefer. It will be your decision, Ashley. Not ours. For now, we're keeping her pod in cryostasis until you settle on the logistics. Once you sign off on the transfer, we'll transport her pod to the location for her burial service. Whichever location you choose for her."

Knowing that Ashley could not find the words, Tali spoke her concerns, "How long will she have to decide? This is a lot to take in. She'll need some time to figure all of this out…"

"Yes, Tali, that's true. We'd like to give Ashley two weeks to sort through this. It isn't a true limit. Not necessarily. Shepard will be under strict surveillance. All I ask is that you take things one day at a time. Look after yourselves. Be there for one another. We'll lay her to rest once you're ready. Not a moment before."

* * *

 _Oh captain, my captain_ had encapsulated Ashley's reactions to all of this, to everything.

She seemed to be in a state of artistic defeat, so creatively redefining what she knew and believed.

And as much as Ashley and I had despised one another, none of that could reach me anymore. Those problems now felt insignificant, no matter how strongly they had affected us before. They couldn't compare to what we now faced today in this fraying moment, threatening to tear us apart piece by piece. At least, this was how she and the others felt, dispossessed in their own ways, each of them prepared to unravel at any given second.

Tali, Wrex, and Garrus chose to stay on the Alliance base for the time being, waiting for the service. They had their own complimentary rooms there and a shared space to mourn together in private. Waiting, grieving—they also took the time to be there for Joker, who was still under Dr. Chakwas' care in a secluded hospital room. He continued to blame himself for not reacting sooner to the attack, for not saving the _Normandy,_ for not evacuating sooner, and for losing Shepard altogether as an unrelenting onslaught against his mind, nearly pushing him to that brink.

Even so, I trusted and believed that Joker would be all right, in time. He would find a way to pull through.

As this time passed, I still _felt_ Shepard here with me, standing strong and tall beside me as if all was well.

Because of this, I felt that I didn't belong on the base with the others, unable to be present with them in their sorrows.

Instead, I returned to the US Grant—the hotel we had stayed in during our initial visit here while on shore leave. By some chance, I had managed to book the same room, finding some familiarity here, for better or for worse. Positive memories of sharing this room with Tali, despite my absence while I had spent most of that time exploring the city at Shepard's side; entirely negative memories of being in here with Ashley on that violent night, as she had almost pulled the worst from me without my consent, very nearly taking me there.

Ashley had removed herself from the team's collectivism as well, electing to stay alone at Shepard's apartment. Tali had fought against her decision, wishing to watch over her, and to be there for her in whatever way possible. Yet Ashley had insisted otherwise, determined to suffer through this artistry and poetry of her loss, alone; determined to at least go through this first week, as she seemed to be waiting for something, waiting for this time to pass before looking for some kind of _answers._ Answers for what, I could not know, but she held herself well enough in her own stasis as she waited, biding her time, needing this time.

The week passed soon enough, somehow.

Though I did not pass through it, still waiting on my own, waiting.

Waiting here in my hotel room, I sat before this view of the city outside the large windows: those brooding skyscrapers of blackened steel and gilded windows. Staring out at the everlasting light of this golden mist, I wasn't sure what I waited for, what I expected. Observing the late-afternoon light of this sunless sky, I had no idea why I felt hopeful. Taking note of the festive cheer in the air as the humans here on Earth prepared to celebrate their end-of-year holidays, I didn't know why I was glad to be here.

Laying Shepard to rest next week, most likely, was all that I could realistically wait for, or expect.

So why was I so far-removed from reality in this way?

Why had I yet to accept that Shepard was gone?

_She was gone._

_She was dead!_

Why was I seemingly in such denial? Why did I continue to think I would see her again soon, as she had told me back on the _Normandy,_ right before I'd departed to go save the crew on her orders? And why was I so convinced that she was, in fact, sitting right next to me, gazing out at the city's skyline in peace by my side?

Such guilt accosted me for feeling this way, for not accepting reality for what it was.

My lingering bond with Shepard had blinded me to the truth of her death, insulating me in this fantasy of her continued love and support.

Aside from when I had first found Shepard out in that snow, I hadn't cried over her at all. Nothing could come out. Nothing pierced me, unlike Ashley, who didn't have the same luxury of _awareness_ that I did. And it was so terrible, so awful, that I simply didn't have the heart to 'check in' with Ashley, not even at a time like this. Her sorrow, even in her unspeakable patience for the time being, was much too profound for me to handle.

So far during these days that had passed, I'd only observed Ashley once.

Once, when she first returned to Shepard's apartment, alone.

This was when she had originally steeled herself with her unknown resolve, resigning herself to sit and wait, sit and wait for something, for enough time to pass. Upon arriving home, Ashley had managed to remain calm enough, even as she'd gripped Shepard's dog tags that she had chosen to wear around her neck. But as soon as she'd unlocked the door, Shepard's VI linked to her home's security system had seemed 'glad' to see her again, crumbling that steel of hers, however temporary it may have been.

" _Welcome home, Lieutenant Williams,"_ the VI had greeted in an artificial, soothing calm.

And Ashley had leaned against the wall as the door closed and locked behind her. Leaning there, sliding down, collapsing to the floor; she had broken down in tears from this single act of sentimentality, reminding her of reality all over again: that she was truly the one carrying on Shepard's legacy. That Shepard had chosen her for this sacred duty.

As far as I knew, Ashley remained there at home without leaving, even at this very moment, without having changed from her usual oversized T-shirt and tight black pants. Whether she had eaten or showered, I didn't know. Fearful, I chose not to know, to verify. I simply did not have the strength to watch over her like this, as unfair as it all was. Because I knew that if I did not feel Shepard's presence in this way, then I would have been as broken as she was, if not more.

There remained a part of me that wished to pay Ashley a visit, to check on her in-person.

She had not outright disallowed me from seeing her, or from setting foot in Shepard's apartment. Though I couldn't imagine that she would _want_ me to go over there. Not unless I had an actual reason. Anything less, and Ashley would think that I only pitied her. She knew that I was more or less all right. She knew why. She did not wish to discuss it. She did not want to suffer any reminders about the disparity between us.

Respecting her wishes, I had nothing to offer Ashley at a time like this. And yet I couldn't ignore this nagging feeling now that I should have been over there. So stifling, so horrible, so threatening—this came close to the sorrow that I should have felt over Shepard's death.

Had Ashley fallen into the worst of her despair?

I was about to 'check in' with her—for this emergency only—until I was interrupted.

Interrupted by an incoming call to my omni-tool from an unknown person, on an unknown frequency.

If this were any other day, any other moment, and any other coincidence, I would have ignored the call.

I would have ignored it over security concerns, over any number of other reasons.

This chain of events was far too compelling, far too meaningful.

I accepted the call.

Cautious, I asked, "Who is this?"

" _Greetings, Dr. T'Soni,"_ said a rigid, mechanical voice—emotionless, perfunctory, and vaguely male-sounding, yet completely unfamiliar. I frowned, worrying that this was only a robo-call, or some other type of spam that had breached my omni-tool's many filters, until the person continued, _"We have contacted you as a friend. You are joined with Shepard-Commander: the one we know as Vespair. To Vespair, we are known as Infiltrait0rN7. Do you remember us?"_

"Vespair…?" I echoed, recalling… "Oh, Shepard's gamer profile! Her name was Vespair. I believe I do remember you now. The other infiltrator… Did you play video games with her over the extranet?"

" _Yes,"_ replied the infiltrator. _"We supported Shepard-Commander through many games. Shepard-Commander was a skilled organic, specializing in sniping and stealth, as she did in the Systems Alliance military. We were comrades."_

"I see—of course." I had to set aside the strange manner of this person's speech—speaking as 'we' instead of an individual, and referring to Shepard as an organic. And as Shepard-Commander. _Why?_ Whatever the case was, I thought it best to press on, "Very well, then. How did you manage to contact me, and why?"

" _Our attempts to contact Shepard-Commander's allies were blocked by the Alliance's superior network, as they are physically located on a military base. We could not reach Williams-Lieutenant due to additional Alliance protocols. Dr. T'Soni is not currently located on an Alliance base. Your omni-tool is not safeguarded by Alliance security measures. We breached your omni-tool as a last resort at the request of our ally. Our ally wishes to exchange critical data with you. We have facilitated their request."_

"And this ally of yours wishes to speak with me? They would like to share the critical data they have?"

" _Correct."_

I wondered, "Who is this ally of yours, and what is the information about?"

The infiltrator relayed, _"Our ally anticipates you will reject a direct exchange of data. They wish to remain anonymous. Their information concerns Shepard-Commander. There is a moderate probability that our ally can restore Shepard-Commander's non-functionality."_

I nearly blurted out, "Non-functionality? _Restore!?_ Do you mean it is possible to _bring Shepard back_ _to life?"_

" _Yes."_

Once again, I could not believe my own reality.

Here was this synthetic-sounding _person_ telling me that Shepard could be brought back. There was a moderate chance according to them, to their ally, but a chance was a nevertheless a chance. And their ally—whoever it was—had to be well-informed, because Ashley had not yet given the Alliance her permission to share any solid details with the media, with other governments here on Earth and elsewhere, or with anyone else for that matter. No one outside of the crew from the _Normandy_ and any need-to-know military personnel were aware that Shepard was clinically brain dead. There was rampant speculation across the galactic community, certainly, but no one else knew anything more.

Whoever this well-informed individual was, I wished to speak to them myself, to at least find out how they knew.

 _Once again,_ my curiosity got the better of me.

"I'd like to speak with your contact directly," I allowed. "Thank you for bringing this to my attention. Have them call me immediately."

" _You are certain?"_ asked the stranger.

Thinking of Ashley, of how close she no doubt was to ending it all, I couldn't allow her to carry on like this. My personal feelings didn't matter. My lingering, negative emotions toward her couldn't compare to this emergency, to this unchangeable path she was on. She and Joker were the same, if not for different reasons, contemplating the same methods, the same end. Tali was barely removed enough from the situation to not be in a similar position, needing to be strong for Ashley, to support her, and yet there was only so much she could do.

Shepard would have wanted Ashley to survive, to move on some day. As idealistic and unrealistic as this was, with Ashley's troubles growing by the minute, I had to put things into perspective here.

If I could not at least verify this potentially positive news, then it was only a matter of time.

"Yes…I am sure. Please tell your associate to call me. This is urgent."

" _Acknowledged."_

As I waited the brief time for this other person to contact me, I questioned:

_Shouldn't we let the dead rest?_

Would Shepard even want this? Would she _want_ to return to this life?

Was such a thing truly possible at all?

I could not go to Ashley with talks of lofty miracles or pseudo-science. She needed something concrete. _I_ needed something more concrete than that.

More importantly, we needed Shepard to help us defeat the Reapers whenever they arrived.

Bringing her back from the dead to _use her_ in this way…

Another unknown caller, another unknown frequency.

I accepted this next unknown, answering, "Hello?"

" _Dr. T'Soni,"_ stated a woman's professional-sounding voice—human, most likely. _"Thank you for taking my call. I'm glad to see that you appreciate the urgency of this situation. With that said, will you allow me to remain anonymous? Or do you insist on knowing who I am?"_

Trying to remember if I knew this person, I couldn't recognize her voice, or her elevated, rounded accent that was not at all like Shepard and Ashley's American ones. Vaguely confident with human ages by now, I assumed that this woman was about Shepard's age, if not a few years older. Sophisticated, direct, cold, and guarded all at once—she did sound like someone who would have been well-informed, and perhaps in a position of great power. I allowed myself to trust that this individual may have been genuine, despite their secrecy. I allowed myself to believe that this could have led to something that we all desperately needed, despite how far-fetched this solution seemed.

 _Everyone_ needed this—not just me.

I only hoped that Shepard would forgive me if she found out, in case she did not want any part of this.

I bargained with the woman: "For transparency's sake, it is best that I know who you are and who you're associated with. I won't be able to fully trust your information unless I know who your sources are. And if I can't trust your information, then we will get nowhere. So, tell me—who are you?"

" _Just as I thought,"_ she replied, fully prepared. _"Have it your way. My name is Miranda. Miranda Lawson. I work for Cerberus—"_

"Cerberus?! The pro-human advancement group led by the Illusive Man?"

" _Yes, the very same,"_ soured Miranda, before I could get too angry. _"Listen, we don't have time to debate this! My colleague explained enough. All you need to know for now is that Cerberus has the dedication, the people, and the resources to make this happen. I can't say more on an unsecured line. You and I need to speak in-person. Ideally with Lieutenant Williams. Can you arrange a meeting for the three of us? The location needs to be private and secure."_

I wished to know, "I take it you are already here on Earth?"

" _That's right. I'm in San Diego now. Wherever you'd like to meet, I can be there within the next hour."_

Only able to trust my intuition, really, I shared, "We can meet at Shepard's apartment. Ashley is already there. Do you have the coordinates?"

Miranda confirmed, _"I know exactly where it is. Shepard's apartment will be very secure. I'm on my way now. In this traffic, I should be there in about forty-five minutes. I'll do my best to get there faster."_

"That will work. Then I will also make my way over to her home. Simply ring the doorbell and I will answer."

" _Understood. Thank you for agreeing to this, Dr. T'Soni. And thank you for your discretion. I'll create a secure line for us in case we need to call each other again."_

"Yes, please do so. Thank you as well, Miss Lawson. I appreciate this."

* * *

Hurrying through the city to Shepard's apartment, I almost couldn't believe this turn of events. At this early evening, all of San Diego itself seemed to light up in celebration through this chilly weather, though I knew it was only for the nearest holiday approaching soon. As I took the monorail over Coronado's beautiful bay and bridge, I gazed out at the town alight in red, green, and white lights, brightening the mood far higher than the usual brooding I had come to expect.

I wondered if Shepard enjoyed this holiday. If she did enjoy it—if she _had_ enjoyed it. I understood that it involved the human custom of exchanging gifts in celebration of a religious event—the birth of a cherished martyr who had died for humanity's sins—though the occasion had become largely secular over the centuries.

With the solar New Year approaching as well, everyone should have been in a festive mood, certainly.

But as I arrived to Central Station, and outside to the down-to-earth streets leading to Shepard's home, I found a similar story about the people meandering about. Those rumors about Shepard's death had spread far and wide by now, with only unverified reports reaching the masses. The masses here, especially, moved at a much slower pace than I remembered from before. Saddened, downtrodden—they had a difficult time accepting that Shepard may very well have been dead, after all that she had accomplished on the Citadel and beyond. She had grown into such a beloved figure. And she more than deserved to have this legacy, for the galaxy to remember her in fondness and in pride.

Making my way to Shepard's apartment building, I passed by several people seemingly glued to their omni-tools as they watched the news.

Verified or not, several organizations had already taken action to secure Shepard's legacy: scholarships for low-income students to attend university, measures to provide housing and meals for homeless LGBT youth, other means of shelter and care for those affected by gang violence, and fashion charities dedicated to discovering more raw talent beyond the industry's inner-circle—all in Shepard's honor.

Most of these ventures required Ashley's permission, her say-so to officially move things forward. She was in charge of Shepard's estate, after all. Though I couldn't imagine she had responded to anyone by now. Not now, and not yet, given her current state of mind.

Still consumed by this terrible feeling about Ashley's well-being, I walked faster.

Inside the Chiron Building's stunning lobby, I headed for the elevator, and went up to the 34th floor.

I found plenty of other residents in this carpeted hallway leading to Shepard's apartment. Families leaving together for holiday shopping, couples retiring home for an early night, and neighbors visiting one another—all of these people here made it simple enough to blend in, despite sticking out among them for obvious reasons, as they were all human. No one paid me any mind as I navigated to Shepard's door, too focused on one another and their conversations.

I wasn't entirely sure if any of them _knew_ that Shepard had lived right next door. She'd hardly been at home as it was, what with her near-constant deployments over the years. Perhaps it was for the best that her neighbors did not know the truth.

At apartment 3434, I rang the doorbell, once, and waited.

Still too fearful to check in with Ashley directly, I relied on my passive senses instead. _I felt her._ She was here in this unit, and without that stagnancy I had sensed from Shepard's lifeless body in the snow. I trusted that she was fine, physically. For now, anyway…

When Ashley did not answer, I pressed the button to the doorbell again, more urgent.

I knew that she heard the ringing.

And Ashley knew that it was me out here.

Unless she had given Tali and the others the coordinates to Shepard's apartment, no one else could have found her here. Regardless of whether she knew I'd visited here before, Ashley could at least put the clues together. She had to know that I wouldn't be here unless it was serious.

Right as I was about to press the doorbell yet again, Ashley allowed me inside.

When the door opened, she was not there. She must have let me in remotely with her omni-tool.

As the door locked behind me, I took note that Shepard's VI did not greet me. While I was here for her birthday, she had offered to give me permission to enter her home freely. I had declined, citing Ashley; and I had asked for Shepard to program her security system to specifically say nothing when I arrived, again, citing the same reasons. I did not want Ashley to think that Shepard favored me, before this matter of her will and leaving her estate behind.

That decision of hers had surprised me, too, beyond my calculations.

It was yet another reminder that I only had myself to blame for this situation.

Treading through this contemplative gold of Shepard's well-designed home, I went to the guest area. On my way there, I noted that Ashley had left the television off in the living room. The blinds over the windows had only opened automatically, by Shepard's wishes left behind through her VI's programming. And everything looked exactly as I remembered it: the spotlessness of her kitchen with all of her food hidden away in the cabinets and forever-freezer, the hallway leading to her master bedroom, her video game collection towering along the wall around and above the TV, her sniper rifles set out in neatness over the long table by the windows, the single couch nearby, the low coffee table, and the separate chair facing the couch at an angle, all in unison as chocolate woods, warming against the cold chrome of the walls.

Such duality in design, just like Shepard herself.

In the guest room, I found that Ashley had not touched the office table, leaving Shepard's terminal and textbooks undisturbed. The open blinds over this window shined in more of the city's golden hues, misting as fog. That light glowed more over the guest bed, the comforter and pillows also untouched in meticulous organization.

So quiet, so far-removed from the world outside, this home was as a paradise.

That shattered once I reached the guest bathroom, finding this reminder of the mirror—still broken from Shepard's anger in years' past, and still broken after my recommendation that she have it fixed.

Broken more, I found Ashley upon the tiled floor.

Still in the usual clothes she wore to bed, Ashley sat up against the wall. She had on Shepard's dog tags as well, hanging there from her neck. Sniffling thickly, tears running down her face, Ashley had her head down, staring with reddened, deadened eyes at her latest dilemma. Surrounding her on the bathroom floor were several…items that I didn't recognize. There appeared to be dozens of clinical strips scattered around her. Not knowing what these were, I could only go off of what I sensed from her, gleaning their purpose:

Tests.

Dozens of tests.

All of which had come back negative.

Negative results…

Standing in the doorway, I could only stare at her for a long moment.

Too defeated to say anything to me, Ashley lay down over the bathroom floor, all the way.

She collected the strips in her arms, bringing them closer to her.

Chains and tags from Shepard's steel chiming with her movements, Ashley fell back into her emotions, back into crying, back into her heartbreak. Devastation complete with these test results, she could not do a thing except break more there upon the floor. She kept repeating her heartbreak— _"No, no, no…"_ —her every utterance louder than the last, more and more helpless, fraying in harsher rasps, worse each time. Spiraling, screaming in barely-controlled tones, she couldn't hold on any longer. This week she had spent holding on, holding on, waiting, _trying_ —she'd hoped and prayed for something else to help her hold on instead.

So convincing during this past week, having fooled Tali into thinking all would be fine.

Tali should have been here, looking after her.

Ashley was too skilled at lying, at pretending, and at _convincing_ others that she was okay when she was not.

Stepping inside the bathroom with her, more, I knelt down here, just nearby.

"Ashley," I murmured, at a loss. "Please, try to get up. This isn't over—"

Ashley snarled at me, "Why aren't you crying, Liara?! Why aren't you upset? Why aren't you pissed the fuck off that this happened!?" When I gave no reaction, she growled in frustration. Clawing at the strips around her, she raged at me more, louder: "Jesus, _why are you so calm?_ Like nothing happened! Don't you care that Shepard's gone?! You should _care!_ You should care like I do, exactly like me! All I want to do right now is burn this motherfucking galaxy to the ground—for still turning, still _existing_ without her! _It has to stop!"_

I couldn't blame Ashley for her outburst at a time like this…but this destruction of hers needed to _stop._

"There's still hope," I shared. Ashley calmed a little, listening. "There might be a way to bring Shepard back. I know it sounds far-fetched. _I know._ But, with enough resources, this may be possible after all."

Hanging on to my words, she used them to pull herself out of this darkness. Just barely. Enough to think.

Ashley still shook her head, disbelieving. "That's impossible… It can't be done. No one…can bring _anyone_ back to life. Who can play God like that with plain-old _resources…?_ Please don't mess with my heart like this. I can't stand it… I can't take it anymore. I'm done—I'm so done. Just leave me alone… Let me die already."

"I'm not doing that, Ashley," I asserted. "You will have your answers soon enough. Someone is on their way to speak to us, to explain all of this. She has access to these resources. She has the information. All we need to do is listen to what she has to say."

"You told some stranger to come here…?"

"You're in no state to be seen anywhere else. And I wouldn't have asked her to meet us at all unless I believed her claims. Unless this was serious. We can't give up now. _We have to believe!"_

Accepting that I was right, Ashley stopped fighting against me.

She went silent, truly considering this.

After a while, I asked her, "Will you at least hear her out? Or do you want me to tell her never mind?"

Nearly there, she had stopped crying.

Nearly there, she stared down at the negative test results surrounding her.

"Ashley," I entreated, needing her to _hear me._ "Isn't it worth trying, at least?"

Trembling with the truth of the matter, Ashley sniffled thickly and said, "Yeah…I guess it is."

"Okay, then," I accepted, glad that I had gotten through to her. "Why don't you get cleaned up? Our visitor should be here within the next ten minutes or so."

Ashley groaned in an echoing weakness, admitting, "Can't move… I'm just…so freaking drained right now."

"Have you eaten at all?"

"Tried yesterday. Barely kept it down. Didn't want to risk actually throwing up. God, _I can't…"_

"Well, I don't want my contact to see you like this," I explained, looking to the nearby shower. "Will it be all right if I help you? I won't force you to eat if you don't have an appetite. That would be unproductive. I can find a change of clothes and get you in the shower instead. We have time for that much."

"Liara, I don't think you get it," droned Ashley. "I'm…a total mess. You can come here talking about _believing_ all you want. Doesn't change what happened. Doesn't change the fact that we lost Shepard in the first place. I seriously…can't move at all. I should already be dead. Feels like I am. Like this is all one huge joke, one giant _fuck you_ from the universe, screwing me over one last time before I finally die…"

"I do understand. Wait here. I'll be right back."

Just nearby in the guest room, I went to the dresser right next to the bathroom doorway. In the drawers, I found a large enough T-shirt as Ashley preferred and a pair of black under-armor pants. Uncertain if Ashley would allow me to assist this much, I pulled out a bra and pair of underwear that looked to be her size. I set everything on the bed a few paces away from the dresser, before returning to the bathroom.

Still lying upon the floor in the pile of her anguish, Ashley could only watch as I turned on the gentle stream of the shower water. Lukewarm, a bit warmer, warm enough—this temperature reached a comforting level to hopefully wash away some of her worries. Careful to not step on any of those negative readings on the ground, I then retrieved a large towel from the nearby rack, folding it over the counter.

Kneeling down with Ashley once more, I lifted her torso, having her sit up against the wall again.

She cooperated as much as her weaknesses allowed, letting me undress her.

Taking off her shirt and her tight pants was simple enough.

I paused once Ashley was down to her undergarments.

"Might as well," she mumbled, beneath the sounds of the running shower. "You've seen enough of me as it is. I don't even care anymore…"

With her apathetic permission, I finished undressing her all the way.

I set Ashley's clothes aside, folding them, and setting them over the counter. I then did my best to lift her—without my biotics, as this would have been too impersonal, too insensitive—pulling her up with me. I ignored this smell about her—of such persistent sweat and tears, everywhere. She likely hadn't changed out of those clothes or showered since we were last on the _Normandy._ Since Shepard had gone to visit her in her room in the crew's quarters, sharing that night with her.

Forcing Ashley to remain standing, I placed her in the shower. Trying to remain as dry as possible, I leveraged her here, helping her maintain her balance. Enough of the shower water washed down over her, rinsing through her hair and over her skin. I struggled to hold her up while pouring at least _some_ body wash over her, this soap smelling of a masculine, wooden citrus. As awkward and strange as I felt, maneuvering with Ashley in this way, it was far better than doing nothing, or simply relying on the water to do everything. That wouldn't have been enough.

Right as I set the bottle of body wash back where I found it, I felt— _something,_ so sudden—

Lonely, confused, Ashley held my face in her drenched hands, pressing her lips to mine, so deep. Deep in her pain, purposeful in her breaking, she would not stop. She wouldn't, not even when my eyes shot open, as I finally realized what Ashley was doing. Trying to _feel_ again, this thickness and persistence about her lips and her tongue held the week-old taste of Shepard's memories on her mouth, in her mouth, everywhere.

Throbbing in this strange, sharp arousal, I angled my head away.

Ashley kept trying to reach me, pulling my face back down to her.

I turned my head more, reminding her, "Ashley, this won't solve anything… Please, you must stop."

Steam from the shower misting around her reddened face, Ashley told me, "But—you taste so _calm_ to me. Like you really are okay… I need that right now. I need it so bad. _Give it to me…"_

"You will find your own calm in due time," I lectured. "We shouldn't do this. Be patient instead."

"I should have kissed you back at Dark Goddess. I should have just done it. I should've done even more. Taken you for myself. To finally know what you feel like, how you sound, what turns you on. You could've been completely helpless underneath me. I could've made you scream, made you bleed, taking that damn purity away from you. God, Liara, I wanted to fuck you so hard that night… You don't even know."

Light enough, I scolded her, "You don't mean any of that. I wish you wouldn't say things like this. I understand you're hurting right now. Yet I won't allow you to fall into anything with me. You will find your strength, your own way."

Ashley tried to kiss me again. "You say that like it's so fucking easy—"

I shut the water off. "And _I know_ that it isn't!"

Cursing loudly from the sudden cease of warm water, Ashley shivered against me, unable to do anything more.

I reached over to the counter, retrieving the towel. Using one hand to hold Ashley in place, I used my other to expand the towel all the way. I somehow managed to wrap her body in this soft, dry warmth, keeping her from drenching me any more than she already had.

Mindful of the wet floor, I picked Ashley up as much as I could, bringing her to the guest bedroom with me.

Setting her down over the bed, her towel did enough to keep her from getting the comforter wet. As she lay there, watching me with eyes so intense, I dressed her in the fresh clothes I had picked out earlier. I understood why she had found her own calm as I did this. I understood what I repeated in my actions, making her relive that soothing fetish she had of Shepard doing the same, of dressing her in far more gentleness and care than my own at the moment. The mere imitation of such memories was enough to placate her, regardless of whether or not she imagined Shepard here instead, or if she somehow stayed in this experience with me.

Whatever the case was, I judged that Ashley would not spiral back into things while Miranda was here.

I didn't imagine that Miranda was the type of woman to _understand_ if something like that did occur, possibly losing her patience instead.

I could not afford risking this relative stranger setting Ashley off in that impatience, forcing old traumas and painful memories to resurface at this terrible time.

Finished with dressing Ashley, I used the towel to dry her hair as much as I could. It would remain damp for some time afterward. Though I now realized that I had forgotten to use those human hair products for her. Yet another difference between our species: I hoped that she did not mind, or that it was somehow unnecessary for me to have used them. Either way, she _appeared_ much better now.

After much effort without my biotics, I carried Ashley to the living room, sitting her down on the couch. I turned the television on, finding that it was already on the fashion channel that Shepard had enjoyed. I couldn't justify changing it to the Alliance News Network instead. Not with the strong possibility of stumbling onto a news story about Shepard, related to her death or not. That was the last thing Ashley needed right now. That was the last thing I needed right now.

Needing to set my own confusing emotions aside, I went to the kitchen. Shepard had stored away all of her non-perishable food. What little remained outside of the cabinets: frozen, sliced fruit here in the forever-freezer, ready and waiting to thaw out again. I quickly thawed these and found a bottle of water, bringing them with me back to the living room.

Sitting down together on the couch, Ashley and I shared the fruit without a word. Merely pretending to watch this runway show together, I remained here at her side, making sure that she drank enough of the water as well. I remembered that she'd had on Shepard's dog tags earlier. She must have wanted them back.

Before I could go retrieve them, Ashley asked me, "So…who's this contact of yours?"

"Her name is Miranda Lawson," I replied. "One of her…colleagues originally contacted me first on her behalf. Someone who is familiar with Shepard, from her video games. They played together as friends."

"Wait—was it that N7 Infiltrator guy?"

I wasn't sure how to explain the matter of this individual's gender. "Yes, it was. I also remember seeing the name a long time ago. If not for that, I doubt I would have spoken to Miranda at all. It was so strange. But, she did seem quite convincing." The doorbell sounded. "That will be her. I'll let her in."

Anxious all of a sudden, Ashley held the bowl of sliced fruit closer to her, eating more.

Not knowing what to expect—not entirely—I went to answer the door.

Miranda was there waiting in the empty hallway.

Human, as I had figured: she wore a black and midnight blue skintight suit with tall, thick heels. Absurdly beautiful, her curved body resembled more of a comic book heroine than an actual person. Fair-skinned and with a broad face, her sole imperfection seemed to be her two larger top front teeth, both peering through her thick lips in a rather endearing way, even as she herself sneered on occasion.

That Cerberus logo, Miranda wore proudly over her chest, embedded into her suit over the blue, with highlights of that logo's orange decorated through her uniform, popping as spots of color. Her dark, styled hair ran just down past her neck. I saw a mere veneer of patience shaped there in Miranda's cold, cold steel blue eyes, as deep as an ocean's floor—so undeniable, from the way she looked and the way she looked at me, she knew exactly what she was and what she had to offer. Not only in this moment, but in general, and in all things: she was under no illusions whatsoever about her appearance, how she had the power to twist her looks to her advantage whenever she pleased.

Encapsulating this first impression, Miranda struck me as a woman who was acutely aware of her worth.

Worth so in looks and aptitude both, she carried herself with that sheer confidence as she regarded me.

Not over-the-top or boisterous in arrogance, I found a more reserved self-assurance about her, poised.

"You must be Dr. Liara T'Soni," said Miranda, to-the-point. "How good to finally meet you in-person."

"Please, come in," I allowed, letting her inside the apartment.

"Of course. Thank you."

As the door locked behind her, Miranda went over to the stairs, her heels clicking against the shine of the chrome flooring beneath her. Looking around, brows raised in intrigue, she seemed greatly impressed as she surveyed Shepard's home, taking in everything within her view. Her eyes lingered longest along the view outside the windows, of this eternal light shining in on us—the three of us here.

Ashley didn't have the energy to stand and greet Miranda properly.

I offered instead, "Would you like anything to drink? Or would you rather focus on our discussion?"

"I appreciate the offer, but I'll have to pass," responded Miranda. "We should get right to business. Time is precious. I'm sure you understand."

Letting herself into the living room, Miranda found the open chair there, facing the couch at an angle.

As she walked over there, Miranda passed by Ashley, who continued to eat her fruit and drink her water. Not ignoring her, though not quite acknowledging her, either, Ashley said nothing, merely observing for the time being. She did not want this relative stranger in Shepard's home—and I sympathized—and yet something about her silence soon changed.

I sat down next to Ashley again, sensing the way she judged Miranda's looks, her choice of clothes.

Miranda spotted the same.

Unbothered, she sat down in her designated chair, crossing her long legs in a measured elegance.

She stared Ashley down as hard, if not more so than Ashley stared at her.

"And you must be Ashley Williams," remarked Miranda, still unbothered. "Or rather, Lieutenant Williams. You'll have to forgive me for not making the standard chit-chat about your family's history. I can imagine you've heard enough about all of that. You must be sick of it by now, aren't you?"

Ashley sneered, "You're seriously bringing that up? What happened to getting right to business?"

"Well, I figured you could do with _some_ small-talk. This is your home, after all. I didn't want to be rude."

"Rude, huh?" mocked Ashley, her eyes canting down to the logo over Miranda's chest. _"And_ you work for Cerberus? This is great. This is just fucking great! I can't believe this shit…"

"I suggest you believe it, Lieutenant. Cerberus is the only organization in the galaxy with the funding and the know-how to pull this off. Restoring Commander Shepard will likely cost billions of credits, and _at least_ two years of dedicated work and progress. I'm offering to bring her back—one hundred percent, exactly as the woman she was. Cerberus can do this. We can do this. _I can._ No one else."

"And I'm supposed to believe you, right? I'm supposed to hand Shepard's body over to a damned terrorist group and hope for the best? Is that it?"

"I don't have time to sit here and defend Cerberus on any individual accusations you might bring up. What matters most is that our information network is second-to-none, rivaling even the Shadow Broker's agents. We have access to money and resources you can't possibly imagine. For example, the unknown ship that attacked the _Normandy?_ It belongs to the Collectors. After Shepard defeated Sovereign, they wanted her gone. They're terrified of her—as they should be."

Mildly moved now, Ashley questioned, "Who the hell are the Collectors?"

Miranda explained, "They're a band of raiders of some sort who primarily operate out in the Terminus Systems. Before the attack, they stuck to dealing with slavers, exchanging large sums of resources for rare specimens and other valuable items. You might have heard about the many colonists out in the Terminus getting displaced and forced to move back into Council Space. It's because of the Collectors, what they're doing out there. This is the first time they've taken such drastic action."

Recalling enough corroborating information, Ashley relented, "Fine, I'll believe you on that. What does Cerberus want with Shepard, then? You said you can bring her back exactly as she was. Why bother?"

"And risk getting wiped out by the Reapers? Lieutenant, we need Shepard. The galaxy needs her. She's a hero—a bloody icon. We need her to take out the Collectors, and put an end to what they're up to out in the Terminus Systems. Any and all technology we can find about the Collectors will help us in the fight against the Reapers. Make no mistake: without Shepard, we _will_ lose this war. You've seen for yourself what she's uniquely capable of. It's that simple."

"You _just_ want her to deal with the Collectors and the Reapers? You're sure you won't force her into some human supremacist agenda? Turn her into a terrorist like the rest of you? Don't bullshit me, either. I'm _really_ not in the mood for it."

Miranda made herself clear: "The Lazarus Project will restore Shepard as she was— _for the sole purpose_ of defeating the Collectors and the Reapers. Whatever she chooses to do outside of the mission will be up to her, not us. You and Dr. T'Soni could even join her if you'd like."

"Fat chance. There's no way in hell I'm working for Cerberus! I've seen what you do to innocent people. I remember those crazy experiments you're so damn obsessed with. You kidnapped Rear Admiral Kahoku from the Alliance, ran those _tests_ on him, and then he wound up dead! How am I supposed to trust you won't do the same to Shepard? Why should I even _trust you_ at all!?"

Losing patience—"Lieutenant, this isn't about your petty grudges and hurt feelings. This is about the fate of the galaxy. This is about humanity's survival! Unless you give us permission to do what we need to do, then we'll all end up dead! You _don't_ want that kind of blood on your hands."

"Now you think you can guilt-trip me into doing what you want? Don't try me. I'll only make you regret it."

"I have no other choice here. You aren't willing to listen to reason."

"Reason? _What reason!?_ Bringing Shepard back just to turn her into one of your _slaves_ is the worst thing I could do to her! You're out of your fucking mind if you think I'll put her through that! She'd rather stay dead than be anyone's slave! And you can't tell me otherwise!"

"And now it's clear we're getting nowhere," criticized Miranda, sighing. "Look, if you reconsider, then the plan is straight-forward. Tell the Alliance that you do _not_ want Shepard to lie in state at the Capitol. The logistics would be a nightmare for us. Sign off on holding her burial service here in San Diego. When you do, Cerberus sleeper agents will oversee the transfer of her stasis pod. They will make certain that the body is transported to our private facility for the Lazarus Project. We'll get started from there."

Ashley rolled her eyes, still unwilling to budge.

Miranda went on, " _Either way,_ I would appreciate if you kept this conversation of ours private. I can't risk you compromising our operations. Just don't go running your mouth to the wrong people. Keep this quiet. You _don't_ want to make Cerberus your enemy by acting against us. Be smart about this."

"Whatever," dismissed Ashley. "I have no reason to tell anyone anything. It's not like they'd _believe me_ anyway. We can just pretend this conversation never happened instead."

"Damnit, Williams, stop being so stubborn! This is an offer you can't refuse. We all need Shepard back! The Reapers will make certain we burn in hell without her! All you need to do is sign off on the transfer. And you need to do it now. The galaxy can't afford to wait on you like this! _Humanity_ can't afford it!"

"So what are you saying, then? That you'll do _anything_ to get me to change my mind? Is that it?"

Glaring at her in full venom, Miranda admitted, "If you're going to be this hard-headed, then the answer is yes. I'm willing to do whatever it takes to get Shepard's remains and start this project. I have to be."

Ashley eyed that skintight uniform, asking, "You're seriously willing to do anything? _Absolutely anything?"_ She laughed softly in such a warped suggestiveness. "Are you…offering me something, Lawson?"

Miranda snapped at her, "I'm not offering anything that you're at liberty to _take,_ Lieutenant! Stop twisting my words!" She scoffed in disgust when Ashley only laughed more. "You're such a child… Whatever you're dealing with in your grief, it's no excuse for this nonsense. I know for a fact that you aren't serious. But on the horribly off-chance that you are, then _yes,_ I will sleep with you if that's what you want!"

Challenging, contemptible, Ashley goaded her, "Oh, yeah? Why's that? And don't tell me anything about Shepard, or humanity, or the damned galaxy, either. That's too easy." Miranda scowled deeply in response. "Yeah, you hate this. Too bad. I'm in charge here, not you. So suck it up and tell me your _real_ reasons. Paint the picture. What do you have to offer me if I actually fuck you? Spill it, Lawson. This had better sound worth my time."

Scandalized, Miranda fired back, "Really, Williams? You're honestly choosing to treat me like this!?" Waiting, expectant, Ashley said nothing, merely needing an answer. "Fine. As reckless and ridiculous as you are, I find you sickeningly attractive. And it is just that— _sickening._ Very much so. Before you ask how or why I feel this way, it isn't merely a superficial thing with how beautiful you are. It's because I know far more about you than you realize. I've done my research on your mind and who you are: your wants, your needs, your psychology. So let's suppose you _are_ serious, and you want me. I can make you forget about all of the pain that you're in. I'm not Shepard, but I'm beyond capable of giving you the type of pleasure that you can only imagine at a time like this. Take that as you will. I refuse to say anything more unless you're willing to negotiate a fair trade with me. I'll give you my sex in exchange for your permission…if that is what you require."

"Interesting," mused Ashley, smirking in an unusual, teasing darkness. "Good to know you're not _too_ stuck-up about this. I'll keep that in mind."

Noticing that twisted gloom, Miranda could only stare at her, unable to respond.

They both seemed so…disturbed, in their own, separate ways.

Finding her bearings once more, Miranda changed the subject, "Lieutenant, listen to me. This needs to happen. It can't wait! Shepard's the only one capable of defeating the Reapers in her unique way. My boss and I have studied her methods. If she can continue as she was on the Citadel, then we can win this war." She regarded me with a veiled understanding, somewhere in her eyes as a bottomless blue. "You played a key role in her victory, Dr. T'Soni. Even though we can't replicate Shepard's talents in other people, I would love the chance to study your place in her mind. It's clear that she couldn't have gotten this far without you. She's our only hope—with you protecting her sanity."

I pointed out, "Even so, I don't believe that Ashley is willing to make a decision tonight. Perhaps we shouldn't push the issue any further. We aren't making any meaningful progress here."

"Unfortunately, you're right," agreed Miranda, standing now. "Think on this some more, then. I'll be in town until either Williams signs off on the transfer, or the Alliance holds the funeral service. If you'd like to have another _productive_ discussion, or if you make up your mind, you're free to let me know." She shared with Ashley the new secure line she'd created for us earlier that evening. "If you need anything— _anything at all_ —then call me. And I meant what I said. I'm willing to do whatever it takes to get this done. As lonely and dangerous as you are, I'll set that aside if you insist on having your damned reward. Even if it means humiliating myself with someone like you, I'll do it. Don't underestimate my ambitions."

I stood up as well, walking Miranda to the door. Though I stopped halfway to the stairs. Quiet now, Miranda waited for me, sensing my hesitations.

I knew that her words had cut at something in Ashley, just as she knew—just as she'd anticipated when she had used those specific weapons, aiming to sheathe, to force this unseen blood to spill out.

This was all very familiar to me.

Miranda's brand of ruthlessness felt too much like looking into a mirror.

"Ashley," I spoke. "Would you like me to stay here? Or should I check up on you tomorrow instead?"

Ashley turned to look at me in earnest, responding, "Thanks for the offer, Liara. Honestly, I need to process all of this… Let me clean myself up some more first. I'll go see you at the hotel instead. I get that this decision is important and all. I guess I just need to talk about it without _someone_ around making things worse."

"Tonight?"

"Yeah, if it won't be too late for you or anything. I should really get out of this apartment for a while."

"That is fine with me," I allowed. "I managed to book the same room as before. Do you remember where it is?"

"Top floor," recalled Ashley. "I remember the room number. I won't take that long. Maybe like an hour."

"Very well, then. Take your time. I'll see you once you're ready."

"Okay. I'll try to get myself together now. As much as I can, anyway… Thanks again."

I left Shepard's apartment building with Miranda, walking with her through this cold breeze to the monorail station. It was an interesting coincidence that we had both taken the same method of getting here, if not on the same exact line. I had taken line two from Coronado, while Miranda had taken line one from the downtown area instead. Speaking together as we went, we briefly commiserated about the city's poor traffic and lack of public transportation options—until we nearly reached Central Station, across from the busy police station.

Stopping here on the side of the road, close but not _too close_ to the station, Miranda observed me.

I observed her the same way, wondering what this was all about.

A safe distance away from other people, from security cameras, from the armored police officers patrolling across the way with their assault rifles—we could speak freely enough here.

Miranda reflected on her words carefully before saying, "Forgive me for being so informal, Liara. But I'm running out of options. I can't stress enough how important it is that the lieutenant changes her mind. Please talk some sense into her. Get her to come around. There's too much riding on this."

"Believe me, Miranda, I know," I shared. "Something tells me that relying on Ashley _is_ your final option."

"And you're right," she sneered. "I considered every other angle before reaching out to anyone on the _Normandy's_ team. You were the best candidate. You were the only one who I knew would listen. Whether it was possible to contact Williams directly or not, there's no way I would've bothered. She can't be reasoned with. I'm certain you understand my thinking on this."

"I understand exactly what you mean. Though you do sound quite troubled. Perhaps stressed, worried."

Miranda sighed in some of those stresses and worries of hers. "Is it that obvious?"

I smiled at her. "A little."

"Well, then, I suppose there's no getting past you," she accepted, light enough. "I'm glad that you and I are able to speak clearly about this, Liara. We've barely met today, but I'm sure you know that I've done my research on you, too. The rest of your team included. As far as I'm concerned, you and I are on the same page. Williams is the wildcard. I'm not convinced that she's capable of being responsible with her power."

"What do you mean?"

"Let's suppose you change the lieutenant's mind within the next few days or so. That's an ideal scenario. If that happens, and the project is a success, then we will run into more problems. She has the power to make Shepard do whatever she pleases. She could turn Shepard away from my boss, away from our mission. She could do any number of terrible acts if she pleased."

I hated that she saw the same as I did.

"From your perspective, do you truly believe that Ashley is capable of such a thing?"

"Oh, absolutely. The girl is entirely destructive and unpredictable. I don't like it. Not one bit. The only _predictable_ thing about Williams is how unpredictable she is! She deserves to be collared and leashed, not given free reign of Shepard's psychology and life choices. Humanity's fate is at stake here."

I had to ask, "When did you first hear about Shepard? How long have you known about her?"

Miranda obfuscated, "Long enough to believe in her legacy as an icon. Just as anyone else would."

I understood what she said. What she would not say.

"With that in mind, do you honestly feel you're the best person to be impartial about this?"

Smiling in a mild discomfort, Miranda shared, "No, I'm not. But I'm trying. My boss put me in charge of this project. I don't make a habit of turning down opportunities like this. I can't afford to fail him."

"You keep repeating what you can and cannot afford," I pointed out. "This isn't a simple game of assets and liabilities, Miranda. This is about Shepard's life first and foremost. Her mind, her sanity. _Her well-being._ The galaxy is secondary. Humanity, and even my people—they all come second to this."

"And I strongly agree with you…however unfortunate that is."

"Why?" I wondered. "You've never met her personally. How is it that you and I are in fact on the same page?"

"Liara, I watched Shepard's progress," explained Miranda. "My boss also studied the Protheans extensively. He knows how they held out against the Reapers. He knows how Shepard replicated that victory on the Citadel. Shepard may be dead now, but she _is_ still a god—you know it, and I know it. I don't give a damn about _beliefs_ or religion. Only cold, hard facts. And the fact of the matter is, without you, Shepard would have lost herself to her demons. She wouldn't have completed the mission _at all!"_

"So it makes you uncomfortable that Ashley has any type of power. Even if it is impossible for her to take my place in this way."

"That's quite the understatement… I honestly don't know what the hell Shepard sees in her. She and the girl are too madly in love with each other. Shepard's sense of self is also far too malleable. It's what makes her so strong against the Reapers, certainly—yet for everything else, it's a logistical nightmare. I don't trust Williams to make the right choices if she knew her worth. She's a complete disaster just waiting to happen! I swear, she's going to get us all killed…"

Sadly, I agreed with her.

Sadly, I did.

"Well, when you put it that way, I suppose I will need to rethink my own choices."

Miranda encouraged me, "Yes, please do. I'm fully aware that we might be making a mistake here. In fact, my boss disagrees with me on the matter. He doesn't see Shepard as a person with legitimate feelings or concerns. He believes we should push her instead, regardless of the risks. He thinks we'd only coddle her if we don't make the truth clear. But it would be a greater mistake for the lieutenant to know the extent of her power. Humanity's survival—and the galaxy's survival—hangs in a precarious balance. I don't want Williams tipping the scales at all. I don't want her causing chaos and mayhem for Shepard or for the rest of us."

"You and I are in full agreement, then," I settled. "For now, I will do my best to change Ashley's mind about this project. However long it takes for you to complete everything, it sounds like I will need that time for myself. I have to sort through this minefield. It is an impossibly delicate situation."

"I'm glad you see the bigger picture here," replied Miranda, sounding relieved. "Thank you for going over this with me, Liara. I can move forward with some peace of mind, if nothing else."

I smiled in the same feeling of _some_ peace. "So can I. It helps to not feel as alone in my thinking. Thank you as well, Miranda, for being so candid with me."

"Of course. As an asari, I can only imagine how you feel. You're so used to taking the long view. It's a sad day when the long-term solution is the most dangerous one. I once believed that the short-term was always reckless and unreliable. As long as we have control over the outcome we want, then so be it."

* * *

_From: Tali'Zorah – Worrying about you._

_Liara,_

_I respect that you want to be alone right now. Believe me, if I had your permission, I'd be right there at the hotel with you. I miss you, Liara. I miss you a lot. Being here on this Alliance base without you, without Ashley—without Shepard… It gets me thinking too much. Wrex and Garrus are understandably distant. I haven't been able to talk to them about this, about anything._

_Joker will be fine. He's starting to come back around. He wants to be there for the burial service. So that's some good news, at least._

_For some reason, I'm not exactly worried about Ashley. I'm oddly confident that she will recover from this. In time. A lot of time. But she's resilient in a way that I don't see in many others. I wanted to stay with her at Shepard's apartment, just to be sure. I know she's hiding the worst of her troubles from me. I have to trust that she'll be all right. As much as I want to, I can't babysit her about this… It's out of my control. I need to have faith in her._

_Honestly, I'm more worried about you. You haven't reacted to Shepard's passing at all. Even as I write these words, I can't stop crying. You're the total opposite. It's as if you keep expecting her to wake up again any minute now. Or that you're only biding your time for something again. I understand that you still feel your connection with her, even in death. And I'm really jealous that you can. I've always been jealous of you._

_Having you as my best friend has been such a wonderfully difficult experience. It's been challenging. I care for you so much. I feel eternally close to you. At the same time, I've never been able to reconcile with the fact that you played such an important role in Shepard's life while she was still alive. You changed her on a fundamental level. If I didn't know any better, I think she needed you to keep herself from going insane. She used to be so angry when we all first met. She truly did frighten me, like she would self-destruct at any moment if any of us dared to say the wrong thing to her. You helped her move on from that._

_I suppose that was why I kept quiet about my own feelings. After all the reassurances you've given me about her, I'm sure you've figured it out. Thank you, again, for sharing so much with me. The secrets we share continue to stabilize me, giving me strength. I can carry this knowledge forward into the future. Maybe as a way to cope. Hopefully. You have my renewed promise that this will stay between us._

_I just wish I had opened up to Shepard about the rest. It's killing me that I'll never have another chance to talk to her, to see her again. I don't know if I'll ever move on from this. From her. No one can come close to what she was. No one can compare to her. Not now, and not in the future._

_So if I'm feeling this way, I can only imagine what you're actually going through. I wish you would tell me. After losing Shepard, I've learned my lesson about staying quiet. About not being fully honest with the ones I love. About not living in the moment; not telling the people around me how much I care for them. As your friend, I love you very much. You've always been there for me with your calming wisdom, even when you are distant like this. I can't tell you how much I appreciate having you in my life._

_Please, whenever you're up for it, tell me when you'd like to meet up in the city. We can even go out for drinks and make complete fools of ourselves. Please, Liara…I'm begging you. Please don't isolate yourself from me while you're hurting. Please don't leave me behind. I couldn't handle it if you did. Not after losing Shepard. Not after having to let go of Ashley like this while she's suffering alone without me. I know what she's going through. And I should be more understanding. I suppose I can't help feeling angry at her. Angry over the way she's practically abandoned me like this. This is so strange. I wish I could stop these emotions. They're so irrational. I'm not proud of them at all._

_I'm so lonely without you here._

_Please talk to me again, Liara. Please come to my room here on this base and take care of me. No one understands me like you do. I'm desperate to see you again, for you to hold me in my pain. I'm confused by how desperate I am. I don't understand it. But I suppose this is what true grief is. Wanting to be close to you in this way, even though I shouldn't be thinking about this at all. It feels like you're all I have left. And you've always given me such a soothing, centering energy, helping with my silly anxiety problems. Maybe that's why. Maybe it's natural for me to wonder about you in another way. Maybe it makes sense that I want you to know me on this deeper level. I trust you with my life. You're the only one. The only one left._

_I'm sorry if this is coming off too strong. I didn't want to hold back. I didn't want to regret not telling you everything. You mean so much to me. I really, really need you._

_I am too young to have this many regrets._

_-Tali_

As I sat here in my hotel room, re-reading Tali's email for the fifth time, everything began to hit me.

All as I wondered how I felt for her, wondering if I should reply to her message. Wondering if it would be best to say nothing, considering this confusing matter of her feelings, with Tali having fully attached herself to me in her needs and sorrows. Though I supposed it only made sense that she had done this, consciously or otherwise, as vulnerable as she was these days… And considering all of our private discussions. Especially about Shepard. So I wasn't surprised. Just…sad that things had ended up this way.

Thinking this over, I remained by the windows again. Staring out to this beautiful city at night. Gazing out at the gold of this mist, at the holiday lights dazzling the view. All the people there, the humans far below that I couldn't see, gathered between those lights, indiscernible: such an apt metaphor of how I felt, how I saw things.

As close as Shepard felt to me, even in death, I couldn't help feeling so far-removed from her.

And I had _always_ felt this way.

She and I were never truly close. Not on an emotional level. I hadn't let her in when I'd had the chance. I hadn't taken advantage of the opportunity in front of me, when Shepard was underneath me in my bed that night five months ago. Even saying the words after the fact— _I love you; I love you more than you'll ever know_ —I had failed to tell her everything. I had disabled my own capabilities, convincing myself that I was not worthy, regardless of my mistakes, my hasty decisions, and my foolish recklessness.

Not quite crying as I sat here, and not quite level-headed, either, I felt the full flood of how much I missed her.

How I missed Shepard so, even with this chance for her to come back to me.

How I missed and needed her this much, knowing the truth; knowing that I was not the person she'd thought I was.

 _Shepard was gone._ She wasn't here in this life anymore. Her remains were in a stasis pod, away from me. I should have been with her. I should have prostrated myself on that pod to be with her again. I should not have left her side, turning a blind eye to my emotions, focusing too much on this mental _feeling,_ on the bond we still shared.

I should have fought for her when I'd had the chance.

I should have stepped out of my comfort zone.

I shouldn't have _let her go_ at all.

I should have been the one Shepard had named in her will. Not Ashley. It should have been me. I would have signed off on everything for Miranda by now. I would have been selfish enough to take the chance; to actually trust _Cerberus._ I would have given anything to have Shepard back by my side.

Now, I was forced to wait.

I was forced into this frustrating position of needing to change Ashley's mind, to get her to act already.

Putting Shepard first; being selfish and putting myself first instead—

In _fighting for her,_ I understood that she'd wanted me to be ruthless. She saw that type of action as romantic, despite the risks. That was what Shepard hadn't been able to say out loud when we'd spoken in her room the other night. That was what had hooked her to me in the first place. My potential. The whispers of my truest capabilities. That edge, that darkness about me that I was so ashamed of.

I found my proof in the remnants of Shepard's decaying memories. Even though her mind was clinically gone, I could still sense… _some_ things by checking in with her.

A memory from when she was about ten years younger:

Shepard had made a few lists of her ideal qualities in a woman. As if holding the lists in my hands, I was able to read them with ease, making sense of everything here.

_Realistic, attainable – I want this imperfect woman_

_-She has to be gorgeous. Obviously. A bombshell or someone more plain, normal, real. Doesn't matter. She has to be attractive._

_-She has to be dedicated to whatever she sets her mind to. Skilled and ambitious._

_-She can be stubborn or a brat as long as I get the final say in the end._

_-Someone who wants me to do what she wants. I like being a service top. She'd have to appreciate that._

_-I think she should be younger than me. Bold, fearless, daring. That energy could be infectious._

_-Even if she is younger, she should be mature enough to not take advantage of my kindness._

_-She should be mature enough to be real with me, too. Be completely honest with me when it matters._

_-I want her to be really passionate. Like a constant flame. Uncontrollable feelings for me. Even if it means she gets jealous easily or has a bitchy attitude about other women liking me. I could make myself like it._

_-If she does feel that way, then it'd be safe for me to love her completely. I wouldn't be afraid of her leaving me high and dry while I'm in that deep. But then that leaves me open to getting hurt by her in other ways. I'd risk it all for her if she was worth it._

_-I need her to be able to rely on me. If she can do that, then I can rely on myself. Finally be responsible._

_-Someone who will smile at me full of love, even when I'm pissed off and scowling._

_Wildcard – I don't get why I want these things_

_-I have a sadistic streak, somewhere. Degradation. Humiliation. Aggression._

_-Getting inside a woman's head and finding her darkest wants is something I crave. Especially if she's in denial about them._

_-If she's controlling, then I want to control her. If she's unafraid, then I want her to be afraid of me. If she thinks she's the best, then I want to tear her fucking ego down and twist her into submission._

_-Depending on the person, I'd rather she get off from her fear of me than how much she might love me. I'd rather be feared and respected than loved and taken advantage of._

_-Her world needs to revolve around me. I'm in charge. Whatever she knew before is no more. She can't even imagine the full extent of what I can do for her._

_Unrealistic, unattainable – but I want her anyway – the perfect woman_

_-I want her to be gorgeous, too. In a different way, though. I don't know how. Just…different._

_-Someone who is everything at once. The whole universe in a single woman._

_-Soothing, calming, gentle, with a quiet strength. No obnoxious ego, no pointless pride. I want to be able to chill with her. No drama._

_-I crave a woman who's incredibly intelligent. Someone who can keep up with me on a mental level. Surpass me. Teach me something new every day. Challenge me to think more. Get in my head and control me, my psychology. Really pull out who I am as a person. Push me out of my comfort zone in creative ways, all the time. Keep me guessing. Don't let me figure her out or know what to expect._

_-I want her to be obsessed with me 24/7. It sounds weird. I get a rush out of it. I don't know why._

_-She should know exactly what she wants from me. She should expect me to give it to her at all times. She shouldn't settle for anything less. That type of needy, clingy confidence is really hot to me._

_-Someone who won't hold back with me. Not for anything. Kind of goes with the obsession, too. It's about not having to deal with guesswork. I hate when people are fake with me. I will respect her more for being honest about who she is. I want her to be brave enough to show me her dark side._

_-Someone who would do anything to have me. I need her to be ruthless about it. The more ruthless she is, the better. Contradicts how I feel about justice, playing by the rules… I guess in this case, the timing would have to be right. Fight for me, make me fall in love, and then she can do her worst. It's a fantasy._

_-Even if we break up, I still want to be in love with her. I still want her to be in love with me. I don't want us to let each other go. I don't think we could ever really break up, either. Maybe that would turn into an unending, toxic relationship. I'm not sure. I would need the security with her more than anything._

_-The most important thing: I want her to take care of me. I want her to be older than me, too. I want her to be mature enough, and caring enough to heal me. I know that I'm more or less falling apart. I get that I'm barely holding myself together on my own. I hate having to admit that. But I need these qualities in a woman._

_-Going back to what's most important, if I trust her like this, then I need to know that she'll always be there for me. I need her to be vulnerable in that way—open, kind-hearted, tender, and so sweet, not minding how mean I am at all. If she is, then I can take the next step and reciprocate. I'm too proud to take that step first. Too paranoid. Too scared that I'll do it, and then she'll abandon me. So I want her to be selfless enough to do it first. I want her to be fearless in this way. I want her to have the courage to love me completely, no matter what. Then we could have our eternal peace together._

Again, all over again, my regrets accosted me.

My hesitations and my mistakes had cost me so much. Too much.

And now, I was all alone here in this hotel room. Everyone else outside was out celebrating, shopping, _living_ together. Though there were plenty of other tenants here in the hotel, escaping that holiday cheer; withdrawing into themselves as they remained in this building instead, just as I did.

I had hope that Shepard would return, thanks to Miranda, to Cerberus…

I had hope, and yet I was terrified that it was too late for us. I had already given into my despair after our last conversation, right before the Collectors had attacked the _Normandy._ I had made up my mind then that my time was already up. That I was incapable of changing. That I was irredeemable.

If that was true—and if Shepard truly believed that I had no chance with her anymore—then why did our bond continue to live on?

Why did I still feel her this way? Why did she feel _so close to me,_ even in death?

Perhaps because I should have lived up to Shepard's unrealistic, unattainable expectations of me.

_I shouldn't have given up on her, no matter the consequences._

And not only for my own sake.

I loved Tali too much to give up on her—to give up on the promises I had made. The hope I had given her. The positive thinking I had instilled in her, giving Tali more faith in serving our captain, without any expectations whatsoever. And the reasons I had told her to be patient in her affections and desires for Shepard, as it was only a matter of time until she had what she wanted. After all that we had discussed in private back on my homeworld during Shepard's birthday, and the truth behind Tali's mistake in drinking to such excess…I had a responsibility to see this through. Whatever agreements or allowances Ashley had made for threes, I did not trust her to include Tali in any fairness. Ashley would only seek to leverage her power through such an arrangement. Tali would not have felt safe. I had to intervene.

Right as I _expected,_ Ashley knocked on the door of my hotel room.

Nearly 10:00pm.

She had taken longer than _maybe an hour_ to arrive. Though I supposed I couldn't blame her.

Answering the door, I found that Ashley appeared a little better after the week she'd had. Unsurprisingly, she had on some of Shepard's clothes—and Shepard's dog tags again—likely out of a need for comfort, even if these clothes were slightly too large over her. I remembered this soft-looking white hoodie, those rugged black jeans with bleached-out spots of silver, and the chrome coating of those combat boots. This was what Shepard had worn after I'd told her to stop wallowing in her apartment with me. This was what she'd changed into after I'd told her to go do what she wished to do with Ashley—to stop holding back.

That had been foolish of me.

As bare as I had been at the time, and with her fully-clothed, I should have stayed in her bed. Made her stay with me instead. Convinced her that I was worth it, and that she was making a mistake with this other woman.

Instead, _now,_ I let Ashley into my room, locking the door behind her in this contemplation.

I found myself growing angry all of a sudden. Angry for Tali, agreeing now that Ashley had abandoned her like this. And perhaps I had as well.

Ashley couldn't know what exactly was on my mind.

I certainly didn't want or need her to know. Yet she observed me in concern anyway.

"So…what's up, Liara?" tried Ashley. "You don't look as calm as you were earlier."

"I suppose I am not," I allowed, returning to my spot by the windows, sitting before the glass. "It has been a long evening."

Ashley followed me to this view overlooking the city. She stared out to the night for a bit, in awe of how the town had lit up for the holidays. Something about the emotions washing over her expression struck me as oddly nostalgic.

Coming back around, she sat down with me at my side, asking, "What've you been up to, then?"

Finding an excuse, a white lie, I pulled up my omni-tool, searching at random: "Since it is possible now that Shepard may return, I have been researching new sniper rifles for her." I managed to actually find something in this errant search. "It appears that the Alliance is in the process of testing a new line of M-98 Widow units. These aren't built for organics to use. The kickback is far too strong. I imagine that Shepard would be first in line to receive one of these. She would enjoy this model, given that the kickback does not break her arms."

Ashley promised, "I'll let R&D know. Hopefully they can make one that's tailor-made for her. They should be able to. Shepard deserves the best."

"Truly?" I puzzled. "You say that as if you have already made up your mind— _again."_

"No way! I'm still undecided," she insisted. "Like, if the Alliance makes the gun for her, and she can't use it…I'd just display it for her at home instead. She can enjoy it that way." Ashley spotted my disappointment. Frowning, she sighed in guilt over her indecision. "Hey, let's not talk about that right now. I meant what I said a few minutes ago. You don't look too good at all. I know you haven't been in here researching _sniper rifles_ this whole time. Real talk—what's going on?"

Thinking of Tali, of how much I loved her as well, despite everything: "I am too young to have this many regrets. That's all."

Ashley knew that I had no desire to get into this. So she spoke of her own regrets instead, "Well, on my end, I've been thinking about how I acted earlier. I shouldn't have kissed you in the shower. Shouldn't have thrown myself at you like that. Shouldn't have told you all that stuff after the fact, even if it _was_ true back then. You were so gentle and understanding with me when you had every reason to look down on me instead… I'll never forget that. I'm really sorry…"

"It's quite all right," I forgave. "You were confused. Perhaps you still are. We both are. We must be. I would worry more if we weren't."

" _Confused…_ yeah. I guess that's one way to describe it. I mean, I even made a pass at Miranda. _Her._ I barely met her today and she's already in my head like this. It's seriously pissing me off."

Knowing that this wasn't as simple as it appeared, I asked her, "What do you mean by that?"

Ashley scoffed, explaining, "I hate that she has such a huge ego. She thinks she's so much better than everyone. Just because she whores around in those so-called _clothes,_ and she's so damn capable and intelligent, she's convinced that the galaxy should bow down to her or something. It isn't fair. I can't stand people like her."

Yet again, this sounded far too familiar… "Ashley, if I didn't know any better, I would say that you _do_ want her. Perhaps your conversation with her was no mere tease."

"Maybe you're right. Maybe I wasn't just teasing her, or trying to get her to spill her guts. Like, Miranda's _really_ fucking hot. Her _sickening_ face, her body, her attitude. Her intelligence turns me on, too, like how nothing gets past her. Like there's nothing she can't do. Like there's no challenge she can't meet head-on. And she knows it—she knows exactly how much power she has—which makes it even worse! So it's more of a hate thing I have with her. I want to fuck Miranda hard enough to put her in her damn place. But that's way too dark. I shouldn't go there. Shouldn't let myself think about that. I have enough going on in my head as it is."

Rather disturbed by that confession, I prompted her anyway, "Such as?"

Ashley chose to be honest: "I spent this whole week sitting with myself. Actually sitting with my thoughts for once. Being mindful. Facing who I really am. I'm pretty sure I spent my whole _life_ avoiding that—always moving around, never able to sit still from how much energy I had. And for a good reason. What I saw there in my reflection, looking back at me—I'm not proud of it. Any of it. But now that the mission's over, I'm going to keep sitting with this. I'm going to keep facing it. I'm going to keep seeing it there, staring back at me in this constant mirror. It's impossible to run away now."

I already knew the answers to this, yet I wanted Ashley to keep opening up to me, to keep speaking her mind—"What did you see there? What did you learn about yourself?"

"I guess, to sum it up…I saw how selfish I am. I've always been so caught up in protecting myself. Part of that involved avoiding this mirror, avoiding the truth about who I am. I was scared that if I _did_ look at the worst parts of me, I wouldn't want to change. That I'd double-down. That I'd fight to protect my own worst instincts instead. Like, aren't we supposed to grow? Grow up and be better people?"

"Ashley, only you have the answers to those questions," I told her. "It is possible that you will never _grow._ That you will never change or 'be better' in the ways you imagine for yourself."

"Maybe, but I don't wanna give up like that," she lamented. "There has to be a reason for this."

I wished to know, "Well, what is causing the worst parts of you to show themselves? What is the driving factor? Are you able to pinpoint it somehow?"

Ashley gave a sour smile. "It's Shepard," she admitted. "It's always her. Things always come right back around to her. It's unavoidable. She brings out the absolute best in me. She brings out the absolute worst in me. Even now, absolutely. Even while she's… While she's dead. She keeps influencing me… That's exactly what's so terrifying about this. I hadn't realized how much she changed me. Not until all of this happened…"

"Is this why you're reluctant to have Cerberus bring her back?"

"Honestly…? Yeah… Yeah, this is _definitely_ part of it." Relieved at having voiced the words out loud, Ashley laughed a bit. "Setting aside the whole terrorism thing…it does seem like Miranda really cares about doing what's best for the galaxy. So I guess Cerberus has the right intentions, at least with the Collectors and the Reapers. I just feel like if we join up with them, it'll end up reinforcing things for me. I'd abandon my loyalty to the Alliance after they finally stopped screwing over my family. I'd turn my back on my family, _again,_ in choosing to do what I want."

"You would work with Cerberus for Shepard," I pointed out, seeking to change her mind about all of this. "If she asked you to, you would. And you would do so proudly. All to serve under her again. Because without her, without her orders to follow, without her leadership and superiority, you feel lost. Lost and without purpose, without honor. So you would follow Shepard into the flames of hell itself, regardless of the organization she associated herself with. You would make any sacrifice for her. Isn't that true?"

Ashley lied to me, "I… I don't know, Liara… I don't know."

And I knew, without a doubt, that this was in fact a lie.

If anything, she was not yet ready to admit that I was right.

I humored her regardless, "Why don't you know? Why are you uncertain?"

"Look, maybe I'm terrified here, okay?" shared Ashley, holding herself around her waist. "I spent my entire life believing that I actually liked myself. That I loved who I was as a person. That I knew myself completely, all the way. When Shepard made me start questioning my sexuality, it was a major turning point for me. That was when the cracks in this mirror finally started to show. And I realized how hollow I was before. Hollow, empty, and normal, just pretending like I knew myself. I could pretend as much as I wanted while I was in the military. Having that kind of honor and purpose, like you said…"

Ashley already had her answers.

She knew what she was, just as I knew.

We both knew one another to the fullest extent possible.

Now, those answers stared right back at Ashley through our shared reflection in this window. They scowled back at her as this city's skyscrapers did, brooding in black and gold. They illuminated her in the memories of her own falseness, glowing there for the festivities, and decorated with such decorum—all false, all temporary.

Ashley whispered, "If I let Shepard come back, and she sees me like this…then she'll probably leave."

"That shouldn't matter," I insisted, gentle. "Take Shepard out of the equation. Who are you?"

Standing up now, Ashley owned the truth: "I'm nothing. I'm sick. I'm hatred incarnate. I shouldn't focus on what she thinks, how she sees me. This can't be about that." Adjusting her hoodie—Shepard's hoodie—she comforted herself again, self-soothing. "I hate when people like Miranda look down on me—because of this exact issue. It's a huge trigger. A giant reminder that I'll never be as put-together as they are. I'll never be as graceful or controlled with my emotions. I'll never be as good as them. Ever."

My heart began to race.

I felt myself beginning to sweat, so cold.

As cold as that planet of death had been, as cold as that previous night had been on the _Normandy._

"Are you convinced that they _know,_ Ashley? Is that it?"

"Yeah, they know," reviled Ashley. "They _definitely_ know. They see it. And maybe they're afraid of it. So they put me down, acting like they're better than me. They think I'm a lost cause. And I probably am. That just means I have to live with this. Live with it out in the open instead of pretending that everything's perfectly fine." Something _clicked_ in her hand. "Like those people out there, going fucking Christmas shopping after what happened… _Shepard's dead._ They _know_ she is! They should show her the respect she deserves. They're supposed to be as miserable as you and I are! The entire galaxy is supposed to stop— _for her._ But they won't do it. They're so ungrateful… I want them all to burn in hell."

Breathing harder.

Paralyzed by indecision.

Fight-or-flight responses locked and malfunctioning.

All the dark energies in my skull burned alight in warning, flashing blue, flashing red, _burning._

Burning harder, a sinister vision of Shepard appeared before my eyes as that red, flaming through the atmosphere of our bond together. Once the same calming presence of hers that I had grown to rely on, she reached me here directly through our connection as a ghost, as an illusion of pyres in the hottest reaches of my hellish spirit— _as a demon_. Seizing me, her crimson rage and despair tore at me in ways that she should not have been able to, agonizing me in my own helplessness. Technically touchless and ethereal, this demon of her grabbed my shoulders, locking me in place. Unfathomable, she scowled through to me in a menacing rage, knowing what I had done on Virmire, knowing what I had almost done, and knowing what I had meant to do to the one she truly loved—knowing, knowing, _knowing everything,_ as only God could:

_Putting Ashley first._

_Taking Ashley's side._

Picking Ashley over me, again, _always!_

Even as a demon…

Another _clicking_ sounded from up above, high above me.

Ashley spoke on in a deep, low, scornful acceptance, despising me: "I'm done looking over my fucking shoulder all the time, Liara. I'm sick of you holding me hostage in my own head, my own body. Like I'm some scared little girl afraid of the dark, terrified of how much power you have over me. And maybe that is what I am, but I don't wanna be that way with _you._ Not anymore. I won't let you ruin me again—or my dreams. _Never again._ I have to stop this. This ends now…on my terms."

One last _click,_ and weighted movement moved down to me.

Down to my paralysis rendering me helpless like this, only able to cry and breathe, breathe and cry as this demon commanded, terrifying me in place.

Down to my hesitations gripping me, my life flashed as this scorn did, as did this vengeful despair of her scowl, and these flames in her sunlit eyes reflecting my own insignificance to her, all as pure evil beyond the stars—

"Whether she takes me back or not, it doesn't matter anymore." Aiming at my head, Ashley pressed her pistol against my temple. Right against my skull in her retribution as she pulled the trigger, _unjustified_ —"I just want you gone."

Loudness as firing pain, splintering flesh and matter and existence, violet blood shot out from my skull as _Death—_


	21. Requiem of the Goddess

_"The Animus 2.0" from Assassin's Creed II / "The Hive" from Deus Ex: Human Revolution_

**XXI.** Requiem of the Goddess

_(Ashley)_

Violet blood pooled out over the dark carpet of this hotel room, everywhere.

Soaking there, colors indistinguishable, the blood shined in the moonlight from the windows, from San Diego's holiday lights glittering in over that darkness.

Liara lay there over her side, on the side I had shot her toward, gaping wounds flooding non-stop.

She'd stopped breathing.

She stopped.

_Dead._

Waking up, waking the fuck up—I stepped away from that blood before it reached my combat boots, Shepard's combat boots.

I backed away from her.

I stopped short of backing into the wall, the same wall I'd pushed her up against all those weeks ago.

I almost dropped my gun. The same pistol I'd aimed at Wrex back on Virmire—I caught it before it could hit the ground, before it could fall into Liara's blood. I holstered it back over my hip. I put it away. I set it out of sight, knowing I could never put this out of my mind: this sight of Liara dead on the floor, fucking dead!

Breathing in and out without breathing, in and out, in, out; I clamped my trembling hands over my mouth.

 _"Shit,"_ I hissed against my palms, sweating already. "Oh my God, Liara! Oh, God—oh no, oh no, no, no, no, _no…!"_ Trying to stay quiet, trying to stay quiet, even as I was about to throw up the food she had given me earlier in her _kindness,_ in her _care._ "What the fuck?! What did I do!? Fuck… Fuck— _fuck!_ _SHIT!"_

Scaring the hell out of me, the tenant next door slammed their fist against the wall, knocking.

His muffled protests—he cussed me out about the noise, recognizing that it was from a gunshot. He screamed at me, demanding to know if I had killed someone; asking if I was still alive, if I had killed myself. I refused to say a word, terrified in place as I stared at Liara's corpse there on the floor. Her neighbor threatened to call the police in _the next five minutes_ if he didn't get an explanation in time.

Panicking more in the middle of his half-worried, half-pissed tirade, I bolted from the room.

The door locked automatically behind me, the red light beaming behind my back, burning in my wake.

This darkened hall in the night, empty and bare: I left in the opposite direction of Liara's angry neighbor. Away from the sounds of other people in the hall farther down. People that could have spotted me, recognized me.

Nearby, not too far in front of me, I saw the door that led outside to the hotel's rooftop swimming pool.

I hurried toward that door as my only salvation.

Fast-walking, not wanting to draw attention to myself—I heard those other tenants around the corner, speculating in quieted voices about what all the noise was about. As a miracle, a goddamned miracle, every door, every room I passed was empty, vacant, with no one inside to suddenly come out and spot me here, figuring out that I was the culprit, that _I was the murderer._

So fucking heavy, my pistol took up too much space beneath Shepard's hoodie that I had on. All-white, not a spec of Liara's blood over me. Not a drop, but if I got caught, it still wouldn't matter. They would know it was me. Any investigation would point right to me. They'd throw my ass in prison for the rest of my life. Everything I had, everything I'd worked for, everything I'd built up—all of it gone.

 _If_ Shepard came back, then she'd never want to fucking see me again.

We were all dead, anyway.

Without Liara, we were doomed. We were all going to burn in hell because of what I did. I'd _wanted_ the galaxy to burn when I pulled the damn trigger.

I wanted Liara dead for what she did to me!

Rushing through this automated door, I sucked in a breath from the night's fresh air. Cold, so cold, the change in temperature made me wake up even more, like a splash of cold water over my drenched face. Short of breath, still, I scanned the area: swimming pool nearby, a hot tub across the way janitor's closet on the far side, and a bunch of empty lounge chairs. No one was out here. No one was out here in this non-snowing, freezing December cold. No one was here. I could think. _I could think._

Five minutes counting down.

Five minutes, ticking down, and I actually couldn't think, freezing up, freezing up.

Pacing around, I went over to the swimming pool.

I could drown myself. Drown myself before the police got here.

But Shepard had suffocated out in space after losing oxygen… I couldn't. I couldn't go through with it.

I hurried over to the hotel's edge, the building's edge, right to this sharp drop. Such a harsh drop, so far, so many floors up, dozens of floors up—I saw the city's lights all merged and joined together at this singular spot. Dizzy and about to fall from this anxiety: I saw the skycars all around, their headlights and brake lights converging onto this location, clustering there where I could have fallen to my death instead. I could only fall and die. I had no other way out. But I was too scared of the pain. Too terrified of that pain of death after losing Shepard already.

I didn't want to die; I didn't want to kill myself!

Shepard wasn't here with me. I couldn't somehow use her augmentation without her—that Icarus Landing System that had saved my life once, and saved me from injury those times in the Mako. I couldn't somehow use her cloak on my own, across life and death, to just walk out of the building like nothing was wrong, like I had done nothing, like I was no one and nothing.

I couldn't hide in the janitor's closet, either, because it was locked. That would've made everything so much worse, anyway. If anyone caught me hiding, then that would've given me away.

Staring up at the cloudy skies, I tried to think, tried to think myself out of this damned mess.

I needed help. I needed someone to help me. There was _no way_ I was getting out of this on my own!

I couldn't call Shepard.

I couldn't call Tali.

I couldn't call my mother, like some little kid in deep trouble, even though I was.

_"If you need anything—anything at all—then call me."_

Miranda Lawson…

I remembered the last time I was at this hotel—I'd had the feeling that someone watched us. _Someone_ —probably Cerberus sleeper agents disguising themselves as hotel workers, keeping an eye on us. Maybe they still did now, today, and I just hadn't noticed. Cerberus had probably kept track of us this whole time, even beyond the hotel, beyond San Diego. They'd followed us everywhere, spying!

Her so-called research aside, it was no wonder Miranda had seemed so _familiar_ with me, like she knew me already. Everything about me.

Scrambling to open my omni-tool's interface, I called the secure line she'd made for Liara and me.

 _"…Lieutenant Williams,"_ stated Miranda, sounding tired, bored. _"If there's a_ reason _why you're calling me this late at night, then it had better be—"_

"—Miranda, I need your help," I begged in a rush. "I need your help, _I need your help_ like right now—I'm seriously not fucking kidding—!"

Alert now, worried now, Miranda ordered, _"Wait a minute—slow down! What's the matter with you—?"_

Confessing, blurting it all out at once, "I'm at the US Grant, the hotel, on the roof, and I'm about to jump off but I can't because I'm guilty and I'm scared and I just killed Liara; she's dead, she's dead, she's dead because of me, because I shot her—"

_"Lieutenant, I said slow down! Repeat what you said, clearly this time. All I heard was the name of the hotel you're in, and that you're about to jump off a roof! Are you suicidal? Is that it?"_

Bloodletting the words out from me, _again—_ "I killed Liara; I shot her; she's dead, she's dead!"

_"You did what!?"_

"Miranda, please, _please_ I need your help! Someone heard my gun! He's going to call the police any minute now! I need to get out of here, or else I'm going to jump—!"

 _"T'Soni is dead,"_ muttered Miranda. _"And_ you _killed her… The only reliable person left on your team, and you… You killed her without knowing—oh, goddamnit, Williams, you're a fucking madwoman!"_

"I know that, I know!" Then I thought about what she said. "Wait, _without knowing…?_ Knowing what?!"

Letting out a huge sigh, Miranda explained, _"Listen, if time is short as you say, then I can't tell you everything right now. According to my boss, the Illusive Man, then you may have just saved the entire human race—along with the rest of the galaxy as we know it."_ How…was that possible? If anything, it should have been the opposite! _"And I agree with my boss,_ objectively _…but in the end, my opinion doesn't matter anymore. You did what you did. My agents tried to handle this without waking me. It's out of their hands now. You_ do _need my help. As much as I despise you for this, we have to move forward—together."_

My head started spinning, way worse.

I couldn't grasp any of this. Couldn't focus on what she'd said. I couldn't wrap my head around the idea that I had somehow _saved_ everyone instead. Just— _how?!_

Sounding like she was already in the middle of something, Miranda knew she had the advantage here.

She negotiated with me as more of an afterthought, now, with how much power she had over my fate:

 _"Well, you know what we have to do here,"_ announced Miranda, so cold and direct. _"Hand Shepard over to Cerberus and I'll get you out of that hotel. Give her to us, and I'll walk you through everything. Keep quiet about the Lazarus Project, and I'll make certain this all goes away. Needless to say, we've prepared for this._ I _prepared for this when I heard about your argument with T'Soni the last time you were here. I hoped you wouldn't be this foolish, or this reckless, yet here we are. And the one time I actually try to sleep at a_ normal _hour, this ends up happening. Good God, this is all a damn mess…"_

Not thinking, I countered, "Miranda, I can't sign off on anything from here—"

 _"—I know that!"_ she snapped. _"What, do you think I'm an idiot? Of course you can't do anything from where you are! I need your word that you_ will _sign off on the transfer as I told you to do—"_

"Fine, I'll do it!" I swore. "I'll fucking do it! Cerberus can have Shepard! Just get me the hell out of here!"

_"Understood, Williams. Now give me a moment. I'll have your first instructions soon."_

Miranda's calm coldness, her emotionless certainty helped me find my own calm.

I waited as she continued with something in the background, listening to her forced-even breaths.

I could only guess that she'd looked forward to relying on Liara as a true ally—until I fucked that up.

 _"You mentioned that someone was going to call the police,"_ spoke Miranda, her attention halved with that something, still. Probably her computer, her surveillance footage. She had eyes on this entire building thanks to those sleeper agents that had stalked us. _"Was it the tenant in the room next door?"_

"Yes," I said, holding on to this calm of hers, _holding on._

Complete confidence in her voice: _"It's handled. He won't be calling anyone any time soon. Now, I've bought you some time, but someone else is bound to put in a call. I won't be able to pinpoint them to stop it. I need you to follow my orders,_ down to the detail, _and to do it quickly. Can you manage that?"_

"Yes," I repeated, so exposed with my fate in her hands. "I promise I'll do whatever you tell me…"

_"Good—now go to the janitor's closet across the way. Hurry, before anyone else decides to go out there. I would only draw more attention to your location if I jammed the door."_

"Okay."

Running across, I found that janitor's closet I'd spotted earlier.

I slowed down once I saw a camera staring down at me from above the structure.

Miranda let me know, _"Don't worry about that. I have it playing a useless feedback loop for the hotel's security guards. They're not aware of anything yet. Get to the closet."_ That red of the lock glowing over the door—it quickly switched to green. _"I've unlocked it. You should find a janitor's uniform with a cap, along with a push cart with their cleaning supplies. Change into the uniform and put Shepard's clothes you have on inside the cart. There's a decontamination system inside. We can't take any chances here."_

She even knew that these were Shepard's clothes and not mine? Cerberus really _had_ been stalking us all this time…

Uneasy about Miranda's knowledge, I did as she said anyway. Rushing out of these clothes, I put them inside the cart, into the decontamination system there. I threw my pistol in there as well. Rushing into the janitor's uniform—a shirt, overalls, boots, and a pair of gloves. I made sure to grab the cap, too.

 _"Tie your hair up,"_ directed Miranda. _"No one should be able to tell if you're a man or a woman."_ No other options—I used the chain of Shepard's dog tags to tie my hair, slipping it up into the cap. _"Your lips may be a problem. They're a distinctive feature of yours. If any police investigators suspect your involvement, they'll be able to spot you if they see your lips beneath the cap. You'll need to cover them up when I tell you to. For now, pull out the cart, close the closet door, and go back inside the building."_

Taking a deep breath, I pushed the cart over to the door that led back inside, back into the hotel.

Shaking, I couldn't keep my hands still. I couldn't keep myself still at all. My stomach was in knots. I broke out in a cold sweat, the cap catching my perspiration before it could fall. I was seriously about to throw up this time, ejecting this food from my throat and back out from my mouth. I somehow swallowed it back, so thick in that sour gathering of mushed half-digestion, so disgusting…

_"Wait. Stop right where you are."_

Stopping, pausing here—Miranda must have been able to see the state I was in, about to keel over.

If someone walked through this door, I knew I'd probably throw up over them, breaking my cover.

_"Before I point out the obvious, I need some more details from you."_

Taking a deep breath of this cold air again, I whispered, "What details…?"

_"The gun you used to shoot Liara—which one was it?"_

"It was a Razer," I remembered. "A Razer pistol…"

Checking, double-checking: _"The Razer line from Kassa Fabrication?"_

About to die, I stared up at the sky again for help—"Yeah…that one."

 _"I obviously won't tell you to hand over your current pistol,"_ reasoned Miranda. _"It's registered to you, under your name. My agent has another copy of the same gun. We'll use it to fabricate a suicide. If this is going to work, then Shepard and the rest of your team need to believe that Liara killed herself. Otherwise, they'll likely suspect you. They can't know the truth._ No one can know. _Am I clear?"_

"Fine," I accepted, as if I had a choice. "I won't tell anyone the truth, I swear…"

_"My agents are moving into her room to stage the scene. They'll also clean up any evidence that you were in there. Did anyone on the hotel's top floor see you on your way in? Did you leave anything behind in Liara's room? Did you touch any surfaces, leave any fingerprints? Where were you when you fired your pistol? Did she struggle against you, or put up any sort of fight? Tell me everything you remember."_

"No one saw me. I didn't leave anything behind. I didn't touch anything, either, aside from the door when I knocked earlier… And I was sitting next to her at first, on her left side. Then I…stood up and shot her before she realized anything. But, the last time I was in there, months ago, when we were arguing… She slapped me pretty hard. Some of my blood spilled on the floor. I have no idea if it's still there."

_"It likely isn't, but I'll tell them to deal with that as well, just in case. Thank you for the information."_

Miranda was way too good at this. Way too prepared. She was so detached and calculating, like this was all part of the job, all under her control.

Meanwhile, I couldn't stand still to save my life— _literally._

Miranda surprised me when she softened her tone a bit. _"Ashley, regardless of my personal feelings about all of this, you're under my care now. I'm going to get you out of there. Take this one step at a time. One order at a time. As you complete each task, it will bring you closer to the end. Focus on what's directly in front of you; imagine whatever will keep you calm. Think of nothing else. Do you hear me?"_

She probably didn't mean that, about her _care._

She probably didn't mean any of the sentiments behind her softened tone, either.

And she probably only did this because it was convenient for her, because she knew I needed it.

Whatever the case, I respected her cunning and her preparedness way too much to be offended.

"Yes, Miranda," I breathed out, clinging to her experience, her advice. "Yeah, okay…"

_"Once you're inside, be subtle. Be discreet. Don't say a word. Avoid eye contact with everyone. And remember what I said about your lips. If there's anyone around you, or if you spot any cameras, then do your best to cover your mouth. Casual gestures only—you shouldn't outright hide anything. All right?"_

"All right…"

_"Now go in. Expect to see several other tenants out in the hallways. They'll be too distracted to possibly recognize your face up close. So just ignore them and get to the elevator. I'll be right here with you."_

Focused on my first order— _getting to the elevator_ —I went through the door and back inside the hotel.

Focusing on Miranda's words to me, her tone and her care, I pushed this cart through the darkened hallway. Steady, at a normal pace, I walked through this crowd of other people around. No one looked at me. No one really noticed me aside from moving out of the way of my cart. No one paid any attention to me, too busy speculating about what that noise was, and where it might've come from. No one broke away from their conversations with each other to ask me any questions or whatever else. They had no reason to care about me at all.

I was just a janitor.

I didn't know anything.

I wasn't anyone. I was no one. No one important, no one who mattered.

Stealth as anonymity in this disguise, hiding in plain sight, I kept walking.

I walked past Liara's room without looking at the door. I only heard vague sounds of vacuuming from inside.

I ignored it all, blending into the environment. I ignored those fresh memories, hiding away, hiding.

Any time it seemed like someone was about to glance at me, on accident or otherwise, I made one of those casual gestures: reaching my gloved fingertips to my lips. Rubbing the back of my gloved hand against my lips. Lightly scratching my gloved nails along my lips. I did the same on Miranda's orders whenever there was a camera around that I couldn't see.

Following her orders.

I found my own peace here, chopped, and screwed, and twisted. Twisted in these echoes of subtlety, of my calming memories; so twisted from the way Shepard had made me feel with her own orders. I knew that Miranda was in my head already, twisting my memories. Twisting everything more, bending: I kept walking, walking nearer to the common room packed with people, walking closer to the elevator with some other tenants hanging out nearby. Time reversed, rewinding, back to calmer times, back to calmer days: I could remember this single line of continuation, like I was back in those moments from the past. Like I had rewound my existence back to the time around Shepard's birthday. Like I was on my way to the elevator to go see her again, so that we could go out on a date together. I wanted us to go out on a romantic date together.

Whispers of her words, of her orders mixed with Miranda's—I made it to the elevator safely.

I pressed the down button, waiting a little longer; blending in this crowd for a little bit more.

 _"You're doing well, Ashley,"_ praised Miranda. _"Once you head in, don't go down to the lobby. You won't be able to walk out of the building in this same disguise. One of the other hotel workers—someone who isn't one of my agents—might try and get a better look at you. I'll need you to change clothes again."_

I couldn't ask her how, or why, or even _where._

I couldn't say a word. I had to stay quiet with so many other people around.

I trusted that she would have my explanation soon enough.

This chime of arrival sounded from the empty elevator. I went inside, fidgeting to cover my lips from the camera above my head. I stayed here in place. Awaiting my next orders. Waiting for the next directions to go meet Shepard for our date. Looking forward to it— _Skipper._ Looking forward to seeing her again— _oh captain, my captain._

Miranda told me, _"Head down to the 25th floor."_ I pressed the button—twenty-five—and the elevator began heading there. _"When you arrive, make your way to room 2514. The door will be locked until you get there. This is a safe room where you can change out of your current disguise. Your next set of clothes will be waiting for you."_

Clothes. New clothes. Brand new clothes for me to wear.

I imagined it all as the elevator brought me down, took me down, slow-going:

I stood here in place with my cart with Shepard's clothes inside. I stood here with Shepard's dog tags hidden inside my hat. I stood here, thinking about how Shepard had asked me out on this date—how she was so confident about it, so smooth and sexy about it. I stood here, not worried about the clothes I had on now, since she had promised to take care of me. I stood here, fantasizing about her taking me out to the mall, to buy new clothes for me to wear—expensive designer clothes that she could afford with ease, having saved up all that money from her modeling career to spend on me, _her one and only._

I was on my way to meet Shepard for a date.

I was on my way to meet Shepard for a date.

I was on my way to meet Shepard for a date.

I was on my way to meet her for a date.

I was on my way to meet her for a date.

I was on my way to meet her. To meet her. To see her again. To see her again, soon.

Soon enough, I arrived to the 25th floor of the hotel. Not that many people were out here in the hallway or this floor's common room. The ones who were here just went along their way, ignoring me as usual, and as I had come to expect by now.

I was almost to room 2514.

I saw another camera close by.

_"The camera nearest to the room is on another loop. You're free to go inside."_

I went inside the room, the safe room.

This room, this normal-looking room.

No one else inside. The blinds over the windows were closed. Total silence.

_"Change your clothes—quickly. Someone called the police. They're already on their way. You have nothing to worry about. We can work this to our advantage. Just continue on."_

I found that change of clothes here in the middle of the room. Hanging from the ceiling, everything stayed suspended there, to make sure I didn't have to touch anything: another cap with no symbols or markings on it, a simple hoodie big enough to hide the swell of my chest, a bland T-shirt, normal denim jeans, a pair of plain old sneakers, and some thin gloves. All blue and gray, to help me blend into the night outside.

I changed into everything as instructed—quickly.

Miranda told me, _"Put the janitor's uniform in with Shepard's clothes. We'll return her outfit to you as soon as we can."_ I did so. I did as she said. _"Tie your hair up again and put it in your new cap, as you did before."_ I followed her orders. _"Now, unless I tell you otherwise, keep your gloved hands in your front pocket."_ I warmed my hands more in this pocket, snug here. _"Leave the room. On your way back to the elevator, you'll pass by one of my agents dressed as a normal hotel worker. She will go into the safe room and clean up behind you."_

Leaving the room, returning to the elevator—I passed by that agent Miranda had mentioned. Dressed as a normal hotel worker, and pushing a vacuum along, so obscure. Not making eye contact, I acted like she was no one, just as I was.

Miranda's agent gave no acknowledgement.

She didn't have to.

_"Very good. This time, take the elevator down to the lobby. I'll need to tailor my instructions to you by the second. I won't know enough until you arrive. You'll have to trust me."_

Trusting Miranda, I took the elevator down.

Down to the lobby.

Down to the hotel's entrance, so close to my escape.

Miranda informed me, _"The police are pulling up to the building. There are several people on their way out of the hotel. Blend in with the crowd. Keep your hand over your hat, like you're trying to keep it on in the middle of the chaos. Stay quiet and exit the front doors. Make your escape out to the sidewalk."_

Chiming of the elevator out to that crowd, out to this chaos:

Police sirens blared through the night outside, blinking as red and blue, red and blue, out by my escape.

Blending in with the crowd, I moved with the current. I moved with them, still independent enough, since I had _some_ room to move on my own. I kept my hand over my cap, holding onto this straight-edged stitching. No identifiers, nothing to make me stand out. No strong colors, no reason to look at me. No identity, no meaning. No rush, no rush—not even with the police outside in their armor, with their assault rifles, storming inside the building. They tried to storm through, through the crowd, but it was all too much for the cops to handle. They wanted to handle this peacefully, for now. They wanted to handle everything, control everything. Shouting orders over the crowd's screaming and shouting, no one listened. We kept moving. We kept going. We all did, as one. We all did, as this single sum of humanity, together.

As soon as we made it out to the sliding glass doors of the entrance—the exit, the escape—the police locked down their control.

Not long after my footsteps made it out to the concrete of the sidewalk, with a few rows of other people behind me—the hotel locked everything down. The sliding glass doors locked behind me, trapping everyone else in the building.

Some of the police had already stormed inside the hotel. Some of them stayed outside, patrolling; surveying the area with their guns drawn.

All of these police cars stayed here, wailing sirens lighting the night alight in this scene, in this emergency.

_"Walk away from the police cars. Walk away from the police. Don't look at them. You are no one."_

I walked away.

I walked down the sidewalk, jostled along a bit by some of the other people panicking around me.

I walked down the block, looking at no one.

I was no one. No one at all. No one.

I didn't matter.

I kept on walking down to the next street, and the next, away from those police sirens. Away from the US Grant, away that blare of sound, from that blare of perception of the blue and red changing this city. Away from that chaos, I found a relative calm here, absorbed in this new light of green and red this time. I blended into this new crowd of holiday shoppers with their bags, clustering in and out of the nearby department stores and indoor malls. Families, friends, and couples full of smiles, no one noticed me. No one gave a fuck about me, too busy and oblivious with their holiday spirit. They were safe from me.

Any other police cars I spotted raced right past me, flying overhead on their way to the hotel.

Almost incredulous, Miranda commended me, _"You did an excellent job, Lieutenant… To be honest, I'm impressed you pulled all of that off without breaking down. You're far more resilient than I thought."_

All I could do was take a deep breath, unable to say a word.

Overwhelmed, way too overwhelmed—I couldn't do anything except exist in this negative space.

 _"I'm sending an unmarked car to you,"_ she went on. _"It will be gray. Get in the backseat. The driver will take you to the next location. Your final change of clothes will be there in a bag. We're nearly through."_

A moment later, that gray car pulled up, hovering there near the ground in waiting.

I got in the backseat as I was told.

I couldn't see the driver—there was a tinted partition separating the backseat from the front. But as soon as I closed the door, the person took off without a word, without needing to acknowledge me.

Next to me, I found that bag Miranda had mentioned.

A Prada shopping bag.

Inside was an outfit I recognized. Not the one that Shepard had bought for me at the mall. This was the one I had put together myself, the next day, from everything she had bought me with that incredible gesture of hers. This was what I had worn the first time I visited her apartment, when she'd asked me to be her girlfriend, and when we'd gone out to the 94 together as a couple: this loose white linen jacket, this tight white shirt, these black leather jeans, and these bulky, tomboyish, tanned Timberland boots.

Miranda had even included the rose-scented Tom Ford perfume I'd worn that day.

Fully understanding what this meant, I changed into the clothes, making sure to put on the perfume, too.

Still, I had to ask, "Am I allowed to talk to you now?"

 _"Yes, you are,"_ replied Miranda. _"I assume you want to know about the clothes."_

"Unless you stole these right out from my closet, this has to be another set."

_"These aren't yours, specifically. I purchased them for you as soon as we began your escape."_

I needed to know, "Then how the hell did you know about my _perfume_ from that day, too?"

Miranda wouldn't budge: _"I'm not at liberty to discuss that with you, Williams. You don't need to know."_

All her damn _knowledge_ had saved me, after all.

"I guess not…"

Pausing for a while, Miranda listened as I finished changing, as I set Shepard's dog tags back around my neck.

Somehow, I was all right. Now that I had this reassurance that Shepard would be back, I was fine. Now that I had hope that I'd get to see her again—someday—I could push forward. I felt like my heart was about to explode. And my head started spinning again, all from that bombshell Miranda had dropped about me _saving_ the galaxy instead of dooming it to hell…but I actually believed I could pull through this. Pulling through, as in twisting my own sanity, and bending it to obey me like this, _forcing it_ this way.

I was okay.

Because Liara was dead. _Good riddance_. As long as I wasn't going to get busted for it, I couldn't care. From day one, whether I'd realized it or not, Liara was a pain in my ass the whole time! Fooling the team into believing she was some perfect saint. Getting everyone to sympathize with her all the time whenever she'd act all innocent and naïve. Constantly turning her nose up at me, thinking she was better than me, just because Shepard had picked her first. Then she had the nerve to act so fucking motherly with me earlier, like everything between us was back to the rainbows and sunshine from when we'd first met.

Hell, she'd tried to kill me back on Virmire.

Liara had threatened to kill my unborn child, with no remorse whatsoever.

Liara had thought she was so goddamn _important_ to Shepard, like she was untouchable, but she was wrong. Dead fucking wrong.

I was so dispossessed from Shepard's eventual reaction to finding out. She would think that Liara killed herself. That was all she was supposed to think. She would be upset, whatever, fine—but she'd get over it. She would move on. Just like Liara had said about Shepard losing me instead.

That stuck-up bitch got what was coming for her—exactly what she deserved.

I was sick of everyone underestimating me. I was done with _anyone_ thinking they could screw me over and honestly get away with it. I was so freaking done!

Yeah, Miranda and Cerberus had some major blackmail on me now. I'd compromised myself for life. But compared to the shit Liara had put me through? Miranda was like my guardian angel. She was my savior now—and I was a traitor to the Alliance. I just had to accept this shit and roll with it.

Because when Shepard was back, I'd finally have her to myself. To me, that was worth anything. _Any_ betrayal.

I seriously needed some answers about Shepard's immunity to indoctrination, though. If it wasn't _Liara_ —if Shiala, Saren, Sovereign, and Vigil had actually meant me instead…

Then again, maybe now wasn't the best time for those answers. I was still overwhelmed by everything.

Once I finished changing my clothes, back into this nostalgic outfit, I stared out the tinted window of this car.

All this traffic, bumper-to-bumper. Blending in with the other cars. Invisible here in plain sight, again.

 _"Ashley,"_ prompted Miranda. _"I understand that you have a lot on your mind. When the investigation into Liara's death is over, I'll see to it that you're able to speak to the Illusive Man personally. He'll answer all of your questions about Shepard's special immunity, and about your role in that process. All I should tell you for now is that_ you _were the one strengthening her will the whole time. You were the one protecting Shepard like this, from the very beginning of your mission. Ever since what happened on Eden Prime with the beacon. Liara was involved as well, but not in the way you and your team believed before."_

"Yeah, okay," I accepted, blunt. "That's way too much for me to handle right now. I'll wait until I talk to your boss before I can even let myself _think_ about it."

_"A wise decision."_

"Where is this car taking me? Where am I going?"

Miranda explained, _"Your driver is taking you to the 94. It's why you're wearing this outfit. You're devastated over Shepard's death, and you're returning to a place that reminds you of her—even going so far as to wear the same clothes. But before I tell you the rest of the plan, I need you to give me the rundown of what happened. After Liara and I left the apartment, what did you do? What time did you leave? What did you intend to do when you arrived at the hotel? Walk me through every single detail."_

I told Miranda everything exactly as I remembered it.

Times, places, the faces I saw on the way over to the hotel— _everything._

As for what I'd intended to do when I got to Liara's room, it was complicated. I'd worried that she would sense my intentions somehow and shut me down with her biotics. And then she'd just sat there. Like she hadn't realized what was going on. Or maybe there was something more that had happened, and I couldn't see it.

Either way, this wasn't over yet. I wasn't in the clear. Until the investigation was done, I had to keep it together.

If I had to destroy myself one more time before seeing Shepard again, then I would do it. No questions asked.

Miranda recognized where my head was at right now. She knew, and that _knowledge_ softened her tone again once I finished giving her those details.

_"Thank you for telling me what you remember. I'll commit it to memory in case I need the information."_

"It's all burned into my brain, too," I soured.

Miranda sighed. _"Yes, I suppose it is,"_ she agreed, sounding kind of down. _"You're nearly at your stop now. The driver will drop you off around the corner from the 94, close to a large, crowded brothel with several surveillance cameras outside. You want to be seen by the cameras from now on. We'll make you appear and disappear as needed, at the correct times. That will help us finish fabricating your alibi."_

"Understood. What's the plan when I get inside? Go to the bar and get shitfaced?"

 _"No, Ashley, not that,"_ she insisted. _"Just find someone, anyone else who is drunk enough. If it's a woman who looks like Shepard, all the better. Seduce them and get them to take you home—"_

"—what?! _No!_ Miranda, there's no way I'm doing that!"

_"…you don't exactly have a choice here. Your alibi needs to be airtight for the hours tonight between six and eleven. It's getting closer to 10:30. Someone who's drunk won't remember what time you came up to them or what time the two of you leave together. There's no other option."_

I groaned, asking, "Where are _you,_ then?"

Miranda admitted, _"I'm currently in a backroom at the 94. I plan on shadowing you once you're here."_

"Damnit, Miranda, if you're already there, why can't you be my alibi instead? Don't you have a fake identity or something you can lean on? More sleeper agents in the police force who can cover for you? This is Shepard's hometown. So this _entire city_ is pretty much like a playground for Cerberus, isn't it?"

_"Well, yes…"_

"Then it has to be you," I reasoned. "Because there's no way anyone would believe I'd hook up with some random person like this! Tali, Garrus, Wrex, Joker—if anyone asked them, they'd all say how that sounds nothing like me! If anything, I'd only do that with someone I already know. It has to make sense."

Miranda went quiet, like she knew I was right; like she'd been avoiding this scenario.

Either she didn't know everything about me like I thought, or she was holding out on me somehow.

"Miranda," I said, stern. "Come on. _Please_ don't make me throw myself at some stranger! Give me a story for how you and I already knew each other. I'm going to the 94 to meet you. Whatever happens once I'm there—it doesn't matter. I seriously don't even care right now. Just make this make sense!"

_"Fine. Have it your way."_

I asked the questions, "Why'd we first start talking, then? How long ago was this?"

 _"I contacted you after the Battle at the Citadel,"_ she decided. _"I congratulated you for saving the Council, and for helping humanity earn our long-overdue seat at the table. We stayed in contact after your promotion. We declined to meet here on Earth while you were with Shepard. So we're meeting up now, tonight."_

"Why didn't we meet during those two weeks while I was here?"

_"Because you and I knew that we had an unspoken attraction between us. With Shepard around, it would have been inappropriate for us to meet face-to-face. She's no longer with us. It's impossible for anyone to return from the dead. We're both lonely. We know that we're making a mistake. We're going through with it anyway. This is the only thing that will help us take away the pain from losing her."_

As Miranda said the words, she sounded so convincing. Actually _convincing,_ like she was telling the whole truth.

And not just about the attraction between us. We'd gone over that already when we talked before.

This was way different.

When I didn't say anything back, Miranda prodded me, _"Will that work for you or not? I need an answer."_

"Yeah, definitely," I promised, a little out of it. "Sorry, Miranda. You just sound like you're…"

_"Speaking from experience?"_

"Pretty much… Unless I'm losing my mind after everything that happened. I can totally believe it."

Miranda hummed softly. _"Maybe you_ are _losing it,"_ she offered, gentle. _"Let's go with that instead."_ I was so right about her, how she felt. _"Your driver is about to drop you off near the brothel. Head to the 94 and the bouncer will let you right in. He and the club's owners are in the know, so think of this as another safe place. I'll be waiting for you to find me on the lower level. I'm not wearing the same clothes, though I'm sure you'll recognize me right away. You won't have an excuse not to."_

* * *

No _holiday spirit_ here in this red light district.

As soon as I got out the car, I found that huge brothel taking up the entire block. The place looked packed with all kinds of people going inside to have a good time. Styled a lot like the 94 from the outside with those golden lights, and the black and chrome surfaces—this place reminded me of a high-rise penthouse. Blasting synth music booming from the inside reached everyone walking out here on the sidewalk. Some good-looking people were out by the front—and even some sexbots—strutting around and convincing more potential customers to come inside. If anything, their types of customers probably hated the holidays. They hated this time of the year, and they were lonely, so they decided to get their rocks off here instead.

Considering what may or may not have been on my mind about Miranda, I was the same as them.

When I made it closer to the 94, the music from the club reached me before anything else, just like before. That familiar bass drilling through my chest, down to my bones, from the speaker system prioritizing this thundering feel—I could never forget this feeling, or this sense that I could hear Shepard through the style of music here. Smooth, steady, sexy, and that edge of ego, confidence…it was all still part of her.

Sniffling, once, I fought back my tears and pressed ahead.

There was no one in the line this time. The line itself was blocked, closed. For now, at least, to keep anyone from recognizing me as I walked in.

That same scarred bouncer in a suit was there in front of the chrome-like double doors, expecting me.

He regarded me as I walked up to him, speaking in that deep, intimidating voice of his, "Good to see you again, Lieutenant Williams. Sorry for your loss. You can go right in. Commander Shepard's private VIP spot will be waiting for you if you need it."

"Thanks," I replied, grateful for his words; glad that he pulled the door open for me, too.

As soon as I made it inside, again, that bass became me, blending with my breaths, and now my resolve.

Walking through, I stared up at that digital display on the tall, tall walls, golds ebbing and flowing everywhere as an ocean's wave. Here in the wide open mezzanine with plenty of booths interconnected in the center, I saw mostly civilians this time, sitting together as couples or dancing together near the DJ's booth. I spotted a bunch of other people at the bar, drinking and laughing.

Miranda wasn't over there by the bar.

Something told me she wasn't much of a dancer either, like Shepard.

I went over to the booths instead, navigating through the mini-maze of chocolate brown leather.

Looking for Miranda, looking around for my memories: I missed Shepard guiding me around in here instead of having to do it myself. I missed having her hand along my lower back. I missed having her pressed up behind me, so protective and caring, watching my back, watching the people around us…

In front of me, I spotted black leather, as the crossed bends of a woman's legs wrapped in a dull shine of that stretching material. Arched foot lifting and leaning, the other on the ground supporting her weight as she sat: those stiletto heels were long enough to kill. Longer, the rest of the leather stretched up to her thighs, covered by more black, more leather. Higher, her midnight blue Prada blouse made up the same color scheme from her Cerberus uniform, of that dark, dark blue and black, shining in tightness. Not quite as tight, but still drawing my eyes, she had left just enough of her shirt unbuttoned, cleavage rising and falling as she breathed, so natural. Only the styled, layered falls of her dark hair covered anything out of my way, with some of those strands vibrating in-time with the music's bass, mesmerizing.

Arms folded as her long legs were, closed-off—but the look in her eyes gave enough away. That look, so sultry, by accident or otherwise: the steel blue of her eyes held me here in an unexpected grip, deeper in how much her pupils had widened as she focused on me. And her impeccably-shaped, plucked eyebrows quirked up at me, shaped too well as thin arches down to the natural wings of her inked eyelashes, darkening her sight.

Crafted as human excellence, Miranda stared up at me in a purposeful intensity.

Knowing that she had my attention, she smirked at me with those full lips of hers, light pink as bold.

"How good to see you again, Ashley," greeted Miranda, patting the open space next to her. Just like before, that Australian accent of hers sounded much richer in-person. "Won't you sit? It's been quite a while since we've spent time with one another. I _almost_ forgot what you looked like." Humoring her role-playing, I went ahead and sat down with her, right beside her. "Thank goodness you arrived when you did as well. I've had to suffer these thickheaded idiots staring at me ever since I left the backroom. This is why I normally don't bother with you military-types. You're too used to getting your way."

"I'm surprised none of them came up to talk to you," I told her. "Are you just _that_ intimidating?"

Miranda scoffed, saying, _"Please._ It's what I'm used to. Everyone enjoys looking, but no one ever has the manners or the home-training to approach me the way I want. If they're not capable, then I'd rather they stay the hell away from me. It's that simple."

I almost couldn't believe her. "Miranda, seriously, you're so stuck-up."

"I'd rather be stuck-up and intimidating than unsatisfied and settling for less. I only want the best."

"Does that mean…you're not the relationship type?"

"Maybe, maybe not," mused Miranda, a bit coy. "I'm in my mid-thirties and I've never been married. Never had a _real_ relationship. Just carefully pre-arranged one night stands with anyone who's attractive enough, along with those who can pass my more casual requirements, clean medical records notwithstanding. Nothing too involved."

And she sounded like a major control-freak.

"Men only?" I asked.

"That's a complicated question with an even more complicated answer."

"So you've slept with women, then."

Miranda raised her eyebrow at me again, asking, "Ashley, why are you this interested in my sex life?"

I rolled my eyes, pointing out the obvious, "Because you know all about mine. _Apparently."_

"I don't, actually," she countered. "I have a general idea. And I know that you're bisexual, that you struggled to come to terms with it for a long time. That's all."

"Are you gonna tell me how you know these things in the first place? Why keep tabs on us like this?"

"Information is power. Shepard is the most powerful being in the galaxy. You are the woman who sits on the throne she has forged with her power. I see nothing wrong with finding out as much information about the two of you as I can. Especially after tonight, going forward. I want to know who you truly are."

I remembered, "But I thought you hated me…"

Miranda waved her hand at me. "Complications, Ashley. Complications."

"No, Miranda, I mean it. We need to talk. The main reason I'm even functioning right now is because of you! I have to know if you're just doing this for the project, or if it's because you maybe-actually-care. I'm way too vulnerable to trust someone who's going to throw me away when I'm not useful anymore."

"That's not a conversation I'm willing to have without a drink in my hand."

Getting her point loud and clear, I stood up, gesturing to the bar.

Miranda just raised her brow at me, yet again. When all I did was frown at her, she set her hand out, expectant. When I stayed put, gaping down at her in disbelief, she had the nerve to flutter her limber fingers and manicured nails in a feminine flair—waiting, _expecting._

God, this woman was such a diva…

Groaning, I grabbed her hand and pulled her up with me. "Will you come on already!?"

"So uncouth," she chided. "If we're going to do this, then I expect you to find some better manners."

"You want _me_ to play that role? Really?"

Unapologetic, Miranda specified, "Yes, that's exactly what I want. Now either do as I say, or our discussion tonight won't be nearly as productive as you'd like it to be. You have to get me to relax and open up. I'm not just going to be as honest as you're looking for. Not right away. That isn't me."

Sighing, I sucked it up and went along with what she _wanted._

But as I led her over to the bar, trying to hold her hand, we kept disagreeing:

I tried to put my hand over hers, my thumb over hers, over her warm skin, gentle and almost delicate. Then she would slap my hand away, grab mine again, and hold hers over mine instead. Then I would wriggle my hand out of her hold, doing the exact same thing she did to me seconds ago.

Back and forth, back and forth we went—until we almost made it to the bar.

"Ashley!" hissed Miranda. "Will you stop doing this?! You're supposed to be following my lead!"

I hissed right back, "Damnit, Miranda, _you_ _told me_ to play this role! Now you're complaining about it? Make up your mind!"

"Have you learned _nothing_ from Shepard?! God, I don't even want to deal with you like this."

I gawked at Miranda as she walked ahead and sat down over one of the open bar stools.

Pushing at the shining chrome surface with her boot, she fidgeted like that until she found the bartender's attention. Miranda ordered a glass of Perfection, without paying for it. She claimed that her date would handle her tab—meaning me—so she was content to sit there, watching the bartender make the drink with as much strawberry liqueur as she wanted. She ignored the Alliance meatheads smirking at her nearby, knowing what they murmured about as they stared at the shape of her hot body, and those boots.

All of a sudden, it felt like I was in a house of mirrors: Miranda's reflection showing Shepard, Shepard's reflection showing Miranda, my reflection showing Miranda, Miranda's other reflection showing Liara, and Liara's reflection ending there as she stared me down from somewhere in death, glaring at me.

If I could have flipped her off then, I would've done it.

Instead, I went to sit down next to Miranda at the bar.

Without her needing to say anything, I went ahead and paid for her drink, just as the bartender finished making it. Seeming pleased enough, Miranda sipped her strawberry pink alcohol through the thin straw. Such perfect mannerisms, so elegant and mindful—she reminded me of Shepard all over again…

One of those Alliance meatheads came over and stood next to me, blurting out, "Oh, shit, Lieutenant Williams!? Is that you?"

Those huge muscles rippling through his gray Alliance shirt, and all his tattoos over his tanned skin.

Those dark eyes of his dilating as he smiled at me.

That short, stubby fauxhawk over his head.

And all of those other Alliance friends of his, surrounding him, speaking in Spanish again.

I remembered this guy from the last time I was here.

"That's me," I replied to him, acting like I didn't remember. "Who's asking?"

He frowned in disappointment, his big, kind eyes almost sagging like a puppy. "Aww, you mean you don't remember me?" he asked, his deep, nasally voice still sounding kind of boyish. "A couple months back, you were at the bar upstairs and…and I kept staring at you while I was with my homeboys. Just—just ignore how, err, pathetic that sounds, though… None of it rings a bell?"

On my other side, Miranda scoffed in a derisive sort of way, probably thinking he _was_ pathetic.

I threw the guy a bone. "Maybe it does. Maybe I do remember you, a little bit. I was focused on other things that night…"

"Yeah," he agreed, frowning more. "Yeah, you were pretty preoccupied at the time, that's for sure…" Cringing, he tried to find the right words. "I'm sorry for your loss, Lieutenant. You and Commander Shepard sure were tight together. She was a big hero of mine. Hell, she still is. I've looked up to her for I don't know how long. She'll always be the best infiltrator, the best marine in the galaxy. Bar-none."

Something told me I was going to have to get used to this… "Thanks."

"I'm James, by the way," he said, offering his hand. "James Vega. It's a real honor to meet you, Ma'am."

Miranda almost laughed into her straw over how formal James was with me.

Ignoring her, I shook James' huge hand. "I appreciate it, Vega—but you don't have to call me that. Let's just drop rank while we're here."

James grinned at me. "All right, all right," he accepted. "As long as we're cool. Gotta respect my superiors and all. _And_ the commander's one and only." Drinking from his glass of Rojo Loco, he eyed me, eyed Miranda beside me. "So, you're here with your friend? Looking to have a good time, forget about all that heavy stuff you're dealing with? At least for tonight, anyway. Can't imagine what you're going through."

"Something like that, yeah," I dodged, noticing how confused he was by my answer. "What are you out for, then? Here to celebrate anything, or are you a regular?"

"We're regulars," said James, nodding to his friends. "Living it up at home while I still can, too. I'm getting shipped out to Fehl Prime pretty soon. Some mercenaries are making hell on the colony. I'll be out there putting those bastards down and keeping the peace. You know—the usual."

"You know what they say about _usual_ routine missions, Vega…"

"True, true. Just means I gotta stay on my toes! I hear my CO's supposed to be a hard-assed son of a bitch. Think I'll have plenty of chances to prove myself; make sure I don't get bored gunning down all those mercs. Once those Blood Pack fuckers see _these guns,_ I'll have 'em running scared in no time."

I was surprised by how… _easy_ it was, talking to James like this. Talking to someone who only knew superficial details about me. Talking to someone who was an outsider looking in, and who couldn't have possibly guessed what I had done not even an hour ago. Maybe it was because he was so laid-back, or maybe it was because I was that far-gone. Whatever the case was, I had convinced myself that I was okay.

Somewhere, deep down, I knew that I wasn't.

I definitely wasn't.

Not really. Not as much as I wanted to be.

Not knowing the same, James tried again, "So, Williams, you and your friend over there…"

"What about us?" I asked, seeing that he wouldn't leave this alone.

"Are you two, uh, getting into some trouble tonight?"

Was it that obvious? _No way—_ "Vega, I have no idea what you're talking about. Say what you mean."

"I'm just sayin', you and your homegirl are looking _pretty_ tight… Me and my boys wouldn't mind putting you on our tab. If you're looking to forget the past, what happened—I know a thing or two about that. I could show you, if you're interested. I bet a couple amazons like you could sure have a good time together. And maybe the two of you could show us a little something else… _If_ you're feeling generous."

Miranda cut him a glare, shearing more with her tone, "Did I hear you right? You want us to put on a bloody show for you and your friends? Is _that_ what you're suggesting?"

Deer-in-headlights, James held his hands up. "Err, whoa, whoa, I-I didn't mean it like that—"

"—oh, cut the bullshit! You know exactly what you meant! Just because she said you could drop rank, that doesn't give you the right to disrespect her like this—or me! You're nothing but another pig."

"Hey, look, I'm sorry… I can tell you two are hurting, all right? I didn't _mean_ nothing by it, I swear!"

"Whatever," dismissed Miranda, leaving the bar with her half-finished drink in her hand. "Ashley, let's go. I'm done with all the riff-raff down here. This is why I hate going out…"

I gave James a look before following after her, leaving those dumb suggestions behind me; following after Miranda as she went inside the women's restroom.

More chrome surfaces, and low lighting, so empty. Leaning against the wall opposite the mirrors at the sinks, Miranda kept sipping her drink, quietly. Quiet, so quiet, it was like she wasn't even there. Like she wanted to disappear, even for a little while as she did this, needing to set aside what had happened with James and his proposition, doomed from the start.

Going over to the sink, I turned the cold water on. I threw the water over my face. Just for a breather. Just to find my surroundings again while the bass from the club's music kept booming through here, dim and distant. Just to clean off the sweat that had probably built over me from escaping the hotel earlier.

Still sipping her drink, Miranda watched me the whole time through the mirror.

Downright staring at me, almost leering: whatever went on in her head as she did this, it looked pretty intriguing, like she was fascinated. Fascinated by me, somehow.

I pulled out one of those hard paper towels from the dispenser, burying my face into this cardboard-like material. So uncomfortable, like how I should have felt with Miranda looking at me this way. So uneasy, like how I should have felt with Miranda holding on to my livelihood with how much dirt she had on me. And so uncertain, like how I knew I should have felt after everything, after what I did to Liara, after how Tali and the others were going to react once they found out…

Shepard, too.

Miranda's calm voice reverberated through the room, turning me on: "Are you stressed out at all? Anxious?"

This was so different from how cold she usually was. She probably could've been really soft and caring—when she was in the mood for it. When she wanted to be…

"Not necessarily," I responded, keeping my red face in this towel, hiding here; heat chilled against this wet cold. "I still need to have that talk with you."

"I know," she confirmed. "I didn't expect this to change just because that little boy interrupted us."

Moving the paper towel away from my eyes only, I stared back at her through the mirror. "You really don't like going out, do you?"

"It's a waste of time," claimed Miranda. "I have better things to do than to let myself be gawked at by a bunch of tasteless strangers. So when you objected to my order, I sympathized with you. I understood. And now I'm here, letting myself be gawked at while we're out together. It's even worse with boys like him who assume we're here to be their playthings or their entertainment. I honestly detest it. All of it."

I noticed that spite in her tone, like she'd had some bad experiences with this.

"I get what you're saying… Thanks for going easy on me."

"Well, you deserved it. You performed admirably. You exceeded my expectations. I _should_ reward you."

I laughed a little, cynical. "What, by sleeping with me? Helping me fuck this pain away?"

Miranda skirted around her real answer: "I haven't decided if you're serious about it or not."

"What do you mean, you haven't decided? Why don't you just ask me if I am?"

"If it were that simple, then we would have done it by now. Nothing is ever simple with me, Ashley. I suggest you get used to it. For now, I'll give you a different reward instead. Let's go upstairs."

We left the restroom together, heading up the stairwell.

Darkened stairs, more of that golden light beaming along the way, and those tall tables next to the walls with people sitting at them: we walked by everyone and everything, heading to that balcony-like area overlooking the mezzanine down below.

Since Miranda was still busy with her drink, I didn't bother _trying_ to hold her hand or anything.

By the time we made it upstairs, she finished her drink, throwing the cup away in the proper bin for disposal. Most people just left their cups wherever, whether they'd finished with their drinks or not. So she had proper manners, _and_ she was a neat freak who cared about the environment. Interesting.

Miranda had us sit down on one of the couches here, off in a corner. Removed enough from the area, the darker ambiance over here gave us enough privacy to talk—and without drawing any unnecessary attention to us. Everyone else up here was busy with their own conversations, unless they were just on their way to the other bar around the corner. No one would bother us this time.

When Miranda wouldn't sit down first, I went ahead and did it, wondering what her deal was.

Playing for the cameras, or maybe she actually meant this, as my reward: Miranda sat down over my lap, draping her sexy boots down over my legs. She had her back toward the rest of the area up here, helping to keep us isolated and alone as much as possible. Completely focused on me, she wrapped her arm around the back of my shoulders, through my hair. Studying me, entirely, she used her other hand to hold my face, moving my chin around at whatever angle as she wanted, observing.

Holding her around her waist, supporting, I let Miranda do this without a word, not really minding.

"What is this scar over your lower lip?" asked Miranda, vaguely concerned. "Where did it come from?"

I admitted, "When Liara slapped me that time, like I told you about. The medi-gel wasn't enough."

Brows raised, impressed, she went on, "And me asking about this doesn't bring back any terrible memories? You're perfectly fine with all that's happened?"

"If you're worried about me losing my mind or something, you don't have to be… I'm dealing with it."

"How do you mean? I knew you were a stubborn one, but you've managed to keep surprising me. I was convinced I'd have to deal with a crying toddler on my hands. It seems I've underestimated you. Not that I'm complaining. So how are you getting through this?"

Maybe childish, maybe not, I set my head over Miranda's warm chest, listening to her quickened heart.

Not quite the ice queen I'd expected, she didn't return my hold or anything. Not directly. She didn't have to, though. The way her heated skin felt under my face, having this human contact again helped me relax, so peaceful. Quickening, quickening, Miranda controlled her breathing, but it was no use, since her heart betrayed her like this anyway. Hearing her like this right beneath my ear, I was even more convinced that I _could_ trust her, despite everything. Feeling her like this, I let myself believe that I could hold on and be patient while she brought Shepard back to me.

Miranda and I had barely met earlier this evening, before nightfall.

I'd only hated her then, not trusting her at all. Those few hours ago, I couldn't understand why anyone would work with her.

Now that the night had fallen, and the moon was almost at its highest in the sky, I needed her like this.

I needed to rely on her.

I needed to follow her orders.

I was way too vulnerable at a time like this, getting attached to her so quickly.

I needed her to bring Shepard back. I needed my commander back with me. I needed to _love her_ again.

"Ashley, I understand," whispered Miranda, her fine voice thrumming through her chest. "I only wish I knew why you don't seem guilty. You've shown no remorse. Not even for how this will affect Shepard when she returns. And before you ask—despite my methods, I'm clearly not all-knowing. If something like this could get past me, then it must be bigger than I realize. I'd like you to explain what happened with your former teammate."

Accepting that I had nothing else to lose with Miranda, I told her the whole story.

I told her everything, starting from six months ago: from the first time I heard Liara's breathy voice through our team's radio, and how everyone warmed up to her right off the bat. Even I did at the time. I explained the drama with Navigator Pressly and the rest of the crew; how I'd gotten myself dragged into it. I agonized over how Shepard had slept with Liara while I was shackled, while I couldn't make a move. I recalled how I'd learned about the whole thing while Shepard was in my room, with Tali sending me those private messages, and how all of it had broken my heart. How Liara had done it on purpose.

I summarized what happened with the Thorian and Shiala, how I was there at the time: how convinced Liara and Shepard were, even back then, that they knew exactly what that was all about. Even though Shiala's explanation had been super vague. Even though she'd warned that she might've been mistaken.

I told Miranda about the dream Shepard had with me, and how I'd felt Liara there, too, spying like that. How she'd intended for Shepard to just fuck me up and leave me, throwing me away once she was done. I shared the conversation Shepard had with me in the comm room the next morning before our mission on Noveria—how she'd decided to give me a chance after I begged her to. And I reminisced about the unexpected, yet fun conversation I'd had with Tali and Liara in that bar in Port Hanshan, and how convinced Liara had been that she and Shepard were so exclusive and into each other. But she was wrong. So wrong.

I mentioned enough about the three months Shepard and I spent actually getting to know each other better, and how Liara had seemed to back off, even while biding her time for something. And how I'd always start arguments with Shepard about Liara because of my resentments that had built up over time. I talked about shore leave on Thessia during Shepard's birthday, too, and the time we'd all spent at Dark Goddess…and what I could remember of the sexed, heated argument I'd had with Liara out on that balcony.

I went over how and why I'd started that next argument with her in the hotel room…telling the truth about me basically being up my own ass after Shepard had finally fucked me to high heavens, and starting drama on purpose, just to be a major bitch. I did concede to Miranda that I'd probably deserved Liara's reaction, even though I hadn't known the full extent of things, of what she'd had up her sleeve back then. Whatever the case was, I'd tried to accept that Shepard was always going to love this person. I had really, honestly tried to come to terms with it.

And then I told Miranda about Virmire.

And then I told her about Liara's threats to me in the med bay back on the _Normandy._

And then I explained how I'd still, _still_ tried to set all of that shit aside. But with the stress from believing that Liara was _the one,_ the stress from most of my family's bullshit in not accepting my sexuality, the stress from having to pretend that everything was all right for Shepard and the rest of the team when I knew damn well that it wasn't true; and then after losing Shepard, and once those tests had come back negative after I'd told myself to hold out for that week, to hold out until I could see if I could just have this one last thing of her…

_I snapped._

I had all but blacked out in that hotel room, but I was still aware, somehow. Somehow, I knew what the consequences would be, and I took the shot anyway. I took the shot _because_ of the consequences. Because I was that pissed off and helpless. By the time I'd woken up, my gun was in my hand and Liara was dead, bleeding out on the floor. And then I'd had no exit plan. No way out of that impossible situation. Not without getting caught, or killing myself as a last resort.

Only by chance had I remembered Miranda's promise for me to call her if I needed anything, anything at all.

Now, back in the present, I was so grateful that I'd had Miranda to guide me back to safety.

I was grateful enough to sit here in silence with her as she processed everything.

I was even more grateful that she'd _listened_ _to me;_ that I'd finally had the chance to let all of that out.

In this silence, the DJ had turned the music up a notch at this late hour, with more people packing into the club downstairs. This had happened at some point during my story, but now it was way more noticeable. Not that many of the new arrivals had come up here. We still had this place to chill in private, hidden in plain sight all over again. Together this time.

After a little while longer, Miranda breathed out in disbelief, "I can't believe I never saw this. _Any of this._ Nearly everything you told me is completely new information. And yet it all makes sense. You _wouldn't_ have left any kind of documentation behind. No trail to follow. Not for something of this nature. No wonder there were so many gaps…"

This was the perfect time to ask, "Does that mean you're gonna explain how you spied on us?"

"We often had agents shadowing your team on the Citadel, or other locations whenever you were on shore leave. Though my primary surveillance came from your chat room, of course. _Team Renegade Shepard._ I kept up with all of the logs from the main channel, as well as everyone's private message exchanges. It was very… _revealing,_ to say the least."

No wonder…

"Prove it, then," I challenged anyway. "Prove you read our private messages. I want to know."

Miranda definitely proved it: "I'm aware that your krogan teammate Urdnot Wrex calls you _clan chief._ As in Shepard's clan chief. None of the rest of your team understands why. It's quite adorable, really."

I laughed a little, remembering how sweet Wrex was for messaging me that day while I was out for a run on the beach…

Then I went quiet, thinking about Wrex's inevitable reaction. Garrus, too. Tali, especially.

Joker already wasn't doing too well, still blaming himself for losing the ship, for losing Shepard.

If they ever found out the truth…

I didn't even want to think about that.

Forcing me to imagine it anyway, a call came in to my omni-tool from the team's frequency. We'd set it to _call-only_ while we weren't on active duty anymore. Just to keep from possibly interrupting each other in case we were in the middle of something.

Miranda gave me a cautious look, wanting me to take the call.

Bracing myself, I went ahead and answered.

"Hey," I greeted, hoping that the club's music in the background wasn't too loud.

 _"Ashley,"_ said Garrus, holding back his pain. _"It's…good to hear your voice again. Are you out somewhere by any chance? Sounds like you are."_

"Yeah, sorry, I am. Just…trying to forget for a while."

_"No worries. I understand. I was only wondering if—if you had a minute to talk. Maybe more than a minute. Something's happened, and…and we didn't call you at first. We weren't sure how to break the news to you. But now that we have all the information, I guess we should go ahead and let you know…"_

The way his normally-smooth voice cracked at the end—Garrus was honestly about to start crying. He held himself together somehow. Barely.

I could've sworn I heard Tali in the background somewhere, sobbing her eyes out…

If Wrex was there, too, he didn't make a sound. Or at least nothing I could hear like this.

Hearing the same so close to my ears, Miranda let out a deep sigh, managing to calm me again.

"Hang on, Garrus," I offered. "Let me move somewhere without all this noise. Okay?"

_"Yeah. Yeah, okay… Take your time if you need to. No rush…"_

He muted himself.

Maybe to cry, to let himself break without me hearing.

Not wanting to drag this out, Miranda moved from my lap and stood up. However much my heart ached for everyone, I shoved it down. I shoved it all down, standing up to walk beside Miranda, leaving this area. To have absolute quiet, I brought her with me past the other bar, past the bouncers standing guard in front of the VIP area. Knowing who Miranda was already, they hadn't thought anything of me bringing her to Shepard's rooftop perch with me. And I was glad they hadn't, since I didn't need yet another reason to actually feel guilty tonight.

No guilt over killing Liara.

Staving off my guilt over how this would affect everyone else.

Not really acknowledging my guilt over wanting this new person who had helped me out so much.

We made it to the rooftop, to the canopy-like structure covering the couch here, and those cabinets filled with empty bottles of Sauvignon Blanc, that other white wine Shepard liked. Keeping her arms folded around her front, Miranda looked around in awe, in learning. Taking her time, her heels sounded soft against the ground as she meandered around, taking in the view of the district from here. She still stayed close enough to listen in to my conversation. She stayed close enough to not leave my sight.

I sat down on the couch.

Taking a deep breath, I let Garrus know, "I'm all clear now. What's going on? What happened?"

Unmuting himself, those sounds from Tali's crying were way louder.

Sniffling, Garrus stepped away, putting some distance between them, before telling me, _"Well, I'm at a police station with Tali and Wrex. Some investigators called us here not that long ago. We answered their initial questions, and then they…they brought us to a morgue, to identify—"_ Sucking back his emotions, he forced himself to say: _"It was Liara. Liara…she's dead. She's gone…"_

Leaning forward, I covered my mouth with my hands, breathing hard.

I couldn't say anything.

Couldn't _think_ of anything to say.

I hadn't prepared for this. There was no way I could've prepared.

Not too far from me, Miranda brought up her omni-tool, checking for something relevant, most likely.

All I could do was sit here and let Garrus listen to me breathe.

Garrus took that as some sort of words from me anyway, muttering, _"I know… I know."_

I asked the only thing I could, "How…?"

 _"Looks like…it was a suicide. She—she shot herself in the head, alone in her hotel room… The only reason anyone knew was because the other tenants heard a gunshot. They called the police. Then when the police called us, we arrived as soon as we could. The autopsy checked out… Liara's—_ reasons _check out. Everything lined up with the forensic evidence. They even checked the hotel cameras for anything suspicious. Nothing came up. It's an open and shut case. The investigation's already over…"_

"Garrus… I don't even know what to say right now."

 _"Trust me, I can't blame you for that,"_ he replied. _"You and Liara were always pretty distant, for obvious reasons. It's why we didn't call you here with us. You're already dealing with enough as it is. Besides, you couldn't have known. Liara seemed so normal. Like she was biding her time before she—"_

Unable to mute himself in time, Garrus' voice shattered.

Hissing, trying to stay quiet, trying to stay reserved, he cried anyway.

As far away as Tali was by now, she sounded just as close to him, as clearly as Garrus did in my ears.

After losing Shepard already, this was too much for them to handle. They couldn't deal with it. They couldn't cope. They had both broken down, beaten and defeated.

And all I could do was sit here, listening to them cry like this.

Staring at Miranda there in front of me as she looked out to the city, I knew that this was the point of no return.

There was no going back from here.

"Garrus," I consoled, worried for him. "I wish I could be there with you. I'm so sorry…"

Controlling himself again, Garrus sniffled louder, before responding in a thick voice, _"No, it's okay… It's okay. I'm glad you're still with us. I was_ really _glad—relieved when you picked up. Liara isolated herself from us a lot of the time. She never let us see how she was actually doing. I was terrified you'd done the same… If you did, I'm not sure Tali would make it. It's…it's that bad for her."_

No matter how justified I felt, how not-guilty I felt, I knew:

I didn't deserve to be Tali's best friend anymore. Or her _friend_ at all.

"Please don't tell me she's thinking about that, too…"

_"I don't know anything for certain. Tali won't say. She hasn't stopped crying since we were in the morgue… I have no idea what to do for her. I just feel so—powerless."_

"Listen, I think we should get her back home soon," I reasoned. "Back to the Flotilla, to her Dad. He'll want to look after her. I'm not sure if there's anything _we_ can do at this point…"

 _"You're right, Ashley,"_ agreed Garrus. _"You're right… Tali at least wanted to stay for Shepard's burial service. To say her goodbyes. We'll leave with Liara's stasis pod back to Thessia afterward. Wrex and I will keep an eye out for her the whole time. We'll take shifts sleeping if we have to. Then we'll make sure Tali gets back home…once she's ready."_

"Okay, good. I'll make my way back to the base in the morning. I can let Councilor Anderson know that we should just have Shepard's funeral here. After what happened tonight, I don't want to drag things out."

 _"I think that's for the best… I'll tell Tali and Wrex. Joker still doesn't know yet. I promise I'll…I'll find a way to tell him. When the time is right. If there even_ is _a right time for something like this."_

"Thanks, Garrus… Try to take it easy. I'll see you in the morning. I promise I'll be there."

_"Yeah… You, too, Ashley. I'll hold on to your promise for sure. See you then."_

Ending the call, I had such an empty feeling in my stomach.

I shouldn't have been able to _lie_ to Garrus so easily like that.

Sensing enough of my thoughts, Miranda finally walked over to me. She sat down here at my side. She said nothing for a while, giving me some time. Time to think, time to remember. Remembering that Shepard had taken my virginity on this same couch, in the middle of the rain beyond this structure. Bulleting rain, and that single gunshot reaching through my half-blackout, louder than the shot on Virmire, louder than everything.

Miranda believed my story.

I knew she believed me, and had started re-evaluating her beliefs.

There was no way the team would do the same.

There was no way they'd accept what I did. Not after so much grief. Not after _everything._

"Ashley," said Miranda, after some time. "Your teammate was right. The investigation is already closed. This won't drag on like I thought it would have. And it pains me to say this, but after listening to your story about Liara, it looks like I've made more than a few miscalculations… I thought I could trust her. I mistrusted you. I made too many assumptions about you being dangerous and unpredictable when you were really her victim." Collecting herself, she went ahead and admitted: "I also owe you an apology. You and I got off to a bad start. Not only that. After Liara and I left the apartment together, I didn't have the nicest things to say about you. I took her agreement as a way to feel justified, like I enjoyed it. I've always been a good judge of character—in an objective sense. These sorts of nuances tend to fly over my head."

"Don't worry—I'm used to it," I reassured her, glad that she'd dropped her pride to tell me all of that. "Just comes with the territory, I guess."

"I suppose so. I should get you home, then. It's been a long day and a much longer night. You need to get some rest. I'll drive you back to your apartment in my car."

Home.

 _My_ apartment…

I asked her, "Will you come inside with me? Please? I don't think I can sleep on my own. Not like this…"

Pausing in a mild awkwardness, Miranda didn't know what to say.

Or maybe she did know.

She knew and she just didn't want to give a voice to anything.

Distant, Miranda settled on asking a question of her own, "For how long?"

"For as long as you're comfortable with," I replied. "I promise I won't throw myself at you or anything. That's not what this is. So much has happened… _So much—_ and I don't wanna be alone right now. Maybe you feel the same way. I can't tell. And maybe that's how you want things to be. If that's the case, I don't mind. I guess what I'm trying to say is…I'm here for you, too. If you need me, that is."

Judging by Miranda's outward reactions, I couldn't know if anything I'd said had gotten through to her.

But she did stand up and say, "All right, then. I'll go home with you. I should look after you, anyway. For as long as I possibly can. I need to make sure you don't do anything foolish in your despair. You're too valuable, especially now that you know your worth. Humanity can't afford to lose you." When Miranda glanced at me, she found my half-smile. "…what is it? Why are you _looking at me_ like that?"

"Thanks, Miranda," I responded, standing with her. "Thank you—for everything. I don't know where I'd be without you."

Saving face, Miranda droned, "In jail, more than likely." Leaving already, she had me follow after her. "Now come on. Let's get going. I'm ready to put all of this madness behind me if you are."

I let myself smile some more, glad that I wasn't alone.

Right before we went back inside the building, I stared up at the sky. Just like I had done back on the roof of the hotel. I wasn't sure if Shepard was there looking down at me…but I was pretty sure I felt my Dad there. Somewhere out there among the stars. I wasn't sure what he thought of me. I had no idea if he approved, or if he saw me differently after what I did.

However Dad felt, he made sure I knew he was there, watching over me.

Providence, sheer luck, and guidance from guardian angels…that was all I had left now.

All I could rely on until the next sunrise.


	22. Wings of the Goddess

_"Night Mission in Venice" from Assassin's Creed II / "The Illusive Man" from Mass Effect 2 / "Sanctuary" from Assassin's Creed II_

**XXII.** Wings of the Goddess

_(Ashley)_

Driving back home in the dead of night, I sat in the comfortable leather passenger's seat of Miranda's all-black, high-end skycar, staring out the window to the highway.

Staring out there as much as I could with this dark tint in the way, at least. Those other cars, their bright headlights and brake lights, and the people inside the vehicles: they had no idea about the night I'd just had. They didn't know the first thing about this twisted shape and deadened color of my depression, brightening only in the moonlight, in the promise that I would see Shepard again someday. They had no clue how beaten and broken I was, barely hanging on by this thread from another woman who should've been a perfect stranger to me.

So perfect, so strange in her silence: Miranda said nothing as she drove us through this light traffic.

She focused on the road in a hazy concentration.

Hazed in her distant thoughts, misted by the golden light of the city permeating through the windshield: Miranda's stunning face glowed in that gold, and of the closer, brighter one from her car's controls beaming over her skin, her hair, and her eyes in the night-dark. Steel blue of Miranda's sight lightened to a paler color in these pockets of brightness. Equally as cold and calculating, she wouldn't let herself exist in those softer perceptions, still trying to fight it all, with her icy stare doing its best to push through.

In her consideration, Miranda had already turned her car's heater on, warming us through the night chill.

All I needed to cap off these reminders was some music.

Miranda didn't have anything playing. Not the radio, not her own songs. Nothing. Just the sounds of the whirring skycars on the highway reached us here—and the occasional, harder exhale she let out, or the stressed, anxious moans rumbling out from her throat, quietly.

She probably sounded like that because she knew I was busy staring at her now.

I figured it wouldn't hurt to start a conversation; hopefully ease this edge about her.

But first: "Hey, Miranda," I said. "Do you mind if I hook up my omni-tool to your stereo system? We can listen to some of Shepard's music. I have her whole collection here. It's pretty damn good. Maybe this way, we can have her back with us again. What do you think?"

Without a word, Miranda pressed a few of those glowing buttons, syncing up her system with Shepard's music library program in my omni-tool.

Smiling with my pain, I picked out the playlist Shepard had curated for driving me around in her car during shore leave. _Not too loud,_ I played her music through Miranda's speakers, just at the right volume to feel this bass drilling through our seats. This sultry alternative R&B made me smile even more: atmospheric in these dark, experimental beats, so sexy. Like it was yesterday, I remembered the leather of Shepard's car seats, and that artificial cinnamon from her car's brand new, refreshed flavor. I remembered that rain pouring down against her windshield late that afternoon, blurring the traffic lights on the highway; blurring as my own sight blurred now, missing her like this so badly.

I could push it back for now.

I could be strong like this.

I could be patient and break myself like this, destroying myself to wait for her again, all over again. Because I had to be okay. _I had to be._

I found a lot of strength in Miranda's gentle smile, too, as immersed in Shepard's world as I was from this music.

"So," I started. "What exactly do you do, working for Cerberus? What's your job?"

"I'm one of the organization's most trusted officers," replied Miranda. "Aside from my role as head of the Lazarus Project, I'm a tactical operative. I also answer directly to the Illusive Man as one of his top lieutenants. He understands my capabilities and allows me to handle certain, sensitive projects. Like this one."

Remembering that skintight suit of hers, I asked, "Are you just into tactics, then? Or do you fight, too?"

By her subdued tone, Miranda didn't quite brag about this in the way I expected her to: "I'm a very powerful biotic, actually. For a human. I can distort any heavy defenses in my way, or slam my enemies to the ground with deadly force. I also have tech abilities, like Overload, to compliment my specialty."

Specializing in stripping defenses; maintaining her own. "You're a sentinel, then? Tech _and_ biotic powers."

"I suppose I am," allowed Miranda. "Just without the classic tech armor or clear firepower. My personal shields more than make up for things, keeping me safe. And I prefer using smaller, one-handed weapons that are lighter and more discreet. I can freely use my biotics or my omni-tool and tech abilities with my other hand. I'd rather use any and all tactics I possibly can to weaken or confuse my enemies before taking them down. Or I can use my other support skills to enhance my stronger teammates instead, making them even more powerful. Going in guns blazing isn't quite my style. Not like you as a soldier at heart."

Of course Miranda would know my service history with the Alliance, and my style of fighting.

Since she and Cerberus really did plan on fighting those damned Collectors that destroyed the _Normandy,_ and who were out in the Terminus Systems causing trouble for the colonists there, then I wanted to fight them, too. And Miranda was bound to be on our team. So I needed to know these things about her style, how she operated.

Plus, talking to her like this did help to keep me grounded. I felt like I could cope. Like I could deal.

"What do you specialize in as a Cerberus officer? You know, in general?"

Miranda sounded a bit more comfortable now as she explained, "For Cerberus operations, I specialize in management, medical science and biology, and combat analysis. For the Lazarus Project especially, I spent a great deal of time studying pharmacokinetic modeling and organic-synthetic fusion, in order to recreate Shepard precisely as she was before. Although a _great deal of time_ for me isn't too long. I can pick up new skills and information rather easily next to the average person. I'm anything but average."

"Uh-huh. So you're pretty much a genius. That's impressive, anyway. I wouldn't want anyone else in charge of bringing Shepard back. You definitely sound like you know what you're doing." Miranda seemed like she wanted to smile at that, but she steeled it away. "I get the idea behind your management specialty as a leader. What about your combat analysis?"

"I mainly focus on processing tactical and ballistic data in real-time both during and outside of combat. My goal is to provide relevant reports to improve my team's performance and future tactics. For example, I'll be able to optimize the ballistics on Shepard's sniper rifle directly in the middle of a fight, right as she's shooting. Along with her unique concentration and precision powering her shots, she can truly penetrate any defenses this way. It will all be a great help in our fight against the Collectors."

"Yeah, it will," I agreed. "I'm looking forward to taking those bastards down. So whenever we're ready to go once Shepard's back, say the word and I'm there. I need some fucking payback for what they did."

Miranda lightened some more, now that she had my confirmation that I was in this fight, too.

"Absolutely," she promised. "We'll be putting together a team of the best fighters and specialists in the galaxy for this mission. Your name will be at the top of the list. Though I'm sure it's a given that Shepard will want to bring you along. I have no doubts about that." Miranda brought the subject back around to combat, to fighting: "Since Shepard is more of a glass cannon with her abilities, you must have a vested interest in doing all you can to bolster her weaknesses. I'll be able to upgrade her tactical cloak implants and the like, but I can't make her invincible. Have you given any more thought to starting your N7 training?"

"Once I'm ready, I'll accept the offer and head out. I already know I'll pick a specialization that'll make me stronger. And I want to protect Shepard, too. Whenever we're stuck in close-quarters combat or in a direct line of fire, I can be more of a tank for her. Nothing too bulky or anything. I still want to be able to move around. I'm committed to this now—all the way. I just…need some time first."

Miranda understood. "Of course."

Understanding even more, we both let this silence pass between us, music thrumming through.

I wasn't sure what else to talk about, but I didn't want things to be weird. Besides, Miranda had gone back to her quieted, stressed out sighs, like she thought I couldn't hear her.

Giving her a break, I went ahead and turned the music up for the rest of the drive.

As intelligent and capable as she was, I never would've guessed she was the socially awkward type.

And as expensive as Miranda's car looked and felt, I knew this woman was rich— _loaded._ Not just from her work as a Cerberus officer. Privileged upbringing, probably, from the way she spoke, from the way she dressed, and especially from the way she held herself, standing up on a pedestal.

Yet another fucking mirror, huh?

Soon enough, we made it to Shepard's apartment building looming over the neighborhood as a dark tower of dazzling lights in the night. Miranda landed her car over the rooftop. This place doubled as a huge helicopter landing pad and a gateway to the underground parking below the building. I pushed back my memories of that hotel rooftop: how much I hated heights as it was, with all of this making it way worse. Maybe not knowing the same, Miranda set her car down in a careful precision, right over the _Parking_ designation drawn and etched into the rooftop's surface.

Once we got outside, Miranda went to her car's storage, pulling out her overnight bag. Prepared.

I waited until she was done before going to the nearby panel: pressing a few buttons, I sent her car to the parking lot for unit 3434's guest space.

Then we headed into the building, straight to the elevator.

No need to stealth my way through this time.

Taking the elevator down to the 34th floor, I noticed Miranda's chic overnight bag—that light plaid of an off-white background and red stripes. _Burberry._ She was such a designer girl. That along with the Prada clothes she had on, it all made me start to wonder…

Just how long had Miranda known about Shepard for?

Probably since Shepard's modeling days. Maybe even since she got her start when she was thirteen. And if Miranda was in her mid-thirties now, then she had to have been in her later teenage years at the time.

Still, Shepard was thirteen…seventeen years ago.

Reeling from that very real possibility, I did my best to not say anything for now.

Leaving the elevator and walking down this empty, carpeted hallway with her, I noticed the change in me: how I started looking at Miranda more. Picking up on more details about her. Wondering about her more, more, so much more.

Either Miranda had some serious discipline to put up with this situation for so long, or she was messed up.

Or both.

Exactly like me, only way worse.

Finally making it back home, I unlocked the door, letting Miranda in first. She gave me a small smile as she went inside, pleased that I remembered what she'd said earlier about _manners._ But after what I had likely figured out about her, this was the least I could do.

The apartment's VI greeted me in that calming voice, "Welcome home, Lieutenant Williams."

Still not used to this, never getting used to it—I felt a few tears slipping down my face, warmed more by the heating system that was on already.

I was lucky Miranda couldn't see: she had already wandered over to the windows, to the sights of the scowling, dark and moody buildings out there, brightened by the mists and city lights this late at night.

Lights off here in the apartment, Miranda's tall, curved, heeled silhouette smoldered against those sights. Just as dark, just as moody in her presence and in her thoughts, she looked so lovely to me like this. Darkened in appreciation, at least, I felt her taking in this atmosphere of Shepard's home in a much different way than before. _Before,_ she was in and out, not letting herself absorb as much as she'd wanted. This time, she seemed to soak up everything in the majesty of this space, needing to become one with it if it would bring her any closer to the one we missed like this.

After a while, she let herself into the guest room nearby. I followed after her.

Watching Miranda look around in here, too, I let her know, "Feel free to take a shower in the bathroom. The kitchen's open if you're hungry or anything. Shepard packed the food away in her forever-freezer. Whenever you're done, come find me in her room down the hall, okay? We'll sleep in there."

Fixated on this view of the broken mirror in the bathroom, Miranda stated, "As you wish, Ashley."

"That's been there for a while," I explained. "It wasn't from me. I don't know how that happened. Shepard just never got it fixed."

Hollow, disordered thoughts, drifting back to order: "I see."

"Hey, and don't hide any cameras or listening devices anywhere. You and I are good now, but you're still with Cerberus… I'm trusting you here in Shepard's home. I'm trusting _you_ like this. Got it?"

Making a point, making eye contact with me—"I understand. I promise not to betray that trust." Setting her Burberry bag down over the bed, Miranda went to investigate the mirror. "I'll find you soon enough. I won't be too long."

Leaving her be, I left to the kitchen, to try and find something to eat.

Other than that fruit earlier, I hadn't actually eaten in days. Not since I was still aboard the _Normandy,_ still oblivious to what awaited us later on that night. I could eat just enough for now. Now that I had some reassurance about things. Now that I could push away these memories of the team, of the rest of the crew. Pushing them away, knowing I had betrayed them like this, all to deal with my own selfish wants.

After hearing the sounds of the shower running in the guest bathroom, I went to Shepard's room.

Our room.

Aside from setting down that picture of Shepard and Liara together, I hadn't done much in here. Just lying down in Shepard's bed, our bed, for this entire week that had passed since we lost her. Lying down here, mute and empty. Waiting. Just waiting for more time to pass. Waiting until yesterday, once enough time had passed. Crying when I couldn't deal anymore, then forcing myself to return to my waiting.

I took a shower to clean off that old waiting, those old reasons that would never be.

I could've survived that path, if only to bring another part of Shepard into this world, living with her that way.

But once those dreams had died—just like I knew they would—I gave up. Like I had no choice. Like my own despair had made the choice for me.

Even knowing that Shepard had entrusted her legacy to me in her will, I just couldn't go on anymore…

Until Liara had surprised me by showing up here, bringing this unbelievable miracle with her.

And after everything, I actually found out from Miranda that I was _the one._ I had protected Shepard's mind, not Liara. I still couldn't believe it. I couldn't believe that all my hopes and prayers came true in the end. I couldn't wrap my head around this. Not until I had solid answers. But this strengthened me in a way I needed, even as much as my emotions got to me in this moment.

Crying again, way more, while hidden in this warm mist of water, so soothing—I felt my determination to _live._ I felt it, but it wasn't mine. I felt this strength to press on and be patient, but it wasn't from me. Not completely. Not as much as I wanted it to be.

It would've been so much easier to convince myself that I could do this on my own.

As much as Miranda had this blackmail over me, she had my life in her hands, too.

As messed up and heartbroken as she probably was, she was all I had left. She had known about Shepard for so long, for way longer than I had. So she had every right to feel the way she did about what had happened. Because of that, I felt myself trusting her more. I trusted her so much more, knowing what it was like to be in her position. Knowing and seeing how pointless it was to love and want and need someone who was so far away, so unattainable; and having those feelings stick around anyway, staying near, growing stronger every single day.

Far away and unattainable, all over again.

Numb and dazed, I found my way back to Shepard's bed at some point. I put on some of her usual clothes she would wear to sleep: one of her boyish tank tops, a pair of sweatpants, and even her boxer briefs. I stayed curled up here beneath her comforter and her sheets, with my head over the heavenly softness of her pillows; drifting away in this smell of her, in the memory of her, so close to me in this illusion, this mirage of my senses. I felt it all so much more in the complete silence everywhere, all around me. Not a single sound from the city could interrupt me. Not a single, unwanted voice could reach me.

Holding on to reality, I made myself hear the sounds of Miranda in the kitchen, finding something to eat.

I stayed here in this comfort, comforted more by the snug warmth of the apartment's heating system.

Waiting only a little while longer—until I heard Miranda's soft footsteps down the hall, coming closer.

I stared at her as I lay here in the bed, just as she stared at me while she stood there by the door.

I only now realized Miranda's vulnerability—how awkward it must have been for her to not be in regular clothes. How revealing it must have been for her in this dressed-down plainness and comfort: of black and white, of a tight shirt and tight pants, like under-armor locking over her skin and her limbs, keeping her safe and protected. Vulnerable, revealing, since she was about to go to sleep with me, in that state where she wasn't aware anymore, wasn't capable anymore, wasn't perfect anymore.

Taking this space I'd left for her over the bed, closer to the door, Miranda lay down there. Her face, her body soaked in the heavenly light from the half-open blinds of the windows. Staying on her back, completely still—she wouldn't look at me. Wouldn't say anything. Wouldn't let herself breathe.

"Miranda, why are you being so awkward right now?"

Sighing again, stressed out again. She wouldn't answer me.

Moving closer to her, I leaned on Miranda's shoulder, hovering next to her face, to her hair. Watching her for a bit, I caught the way her heart had trapped her here in this room, here in this moment. Like she never wanted to leave, even though she knew she would have to go eventually. We both would.

I had my N7 training down the line.

She had to start the project once I signed off on everything in the morning.

But instead of letting herself relax, Miranda had gotten tangled up in that tragedy of the inevitable.

Not really intending anything, I reached out to touch her face. Just to feel her. Just to make sure she was real. Whatever was on her mind, Miranda at least let me turn her toward me, facing me like this. And this softness of her face, this open feeling of her freshly-washed skin: she felt more than real to me. No matter what she _seemed_ like, she was an actual woman, and an actual person, living and breathing next to me, exactly as I needed.

Miranda felt so close to me.

Despite her limited distance—not quite meeting my eyes as she observed me—I really needed her here.

So I had to know, "How long do you actually plan on being here with me?"

Miranda made herself reply to me, "Well, your first priority is handling things with the Alliance. After that, I'll make sure you speak with the Illusive Man personally, as promised. It would be best if we install a quantum entanglement communicator in the apartment. If you don't mind, that is. The installation should take a few days."

"Yeah, we can do that. And after I talk to your boss, then what?"

"Since we both need the company, I'll stay with you. At least through the holidays, until a little after the New Year. By then, I'll have everything set up with the Lazarus Project remotely from here. I'll be able to get started right away when I return. Unless you planned on spending that time with your family."

"No… Aside from my baby sister, I'm still not talking to any of them. I'd rather be with you."

"Fair enough," accepted Miranda. "Then I can use the extra time to work in Shepard's office on my terminal. I'll make some calls tomorrow to check out of my hotel and have the rest of my things brought over. Other than that, I'll be free to look after you. We can spend the time however you'd like. Whatever you need. I'm taking this responsibility seriously. If not more so than my actual work."

"And why's that?"

"You're the one Shepard loves. The one she entrusted her entire legacy to. You're the one who elevated her willpower and gave her strength. Even when all hope seemed lost, you never once gave up on your devotion to her. We all need you, Ashley. I owe Shepard this much. Anything more, I'll find a way to explain in due time. Not tonight. Not yet."

I could live with that.

Leaving the rest unspoken did seem like the best idea. At least for now.

Underneath the insulated warmth of Shepard's comforter, between the soft comforts of Shepard's sheets—Miranda lay here with me, kind of holding me as I kept my head over her chest. Not quite tangling my legs with hers, even though I wanted to. Not quite letting myself enjoy this clean freshness about her from her shower, I breathed in this smell of her skin anyway. Not quite feeling, not quite numb, I let myself drift off in her arms.

Drifting, someplace faraway, so far from here.

Somewhere without pain. Somewhere without worrying about my faith, and about staying true to my relationship, even knowing that Shepard was gone. Off and away, out to sea, out to the stars. As if Shepard was just…deployed somewhere. Deployed as a marine. Gone, but temporary, like how Dad would be off fighting somewhere for me, for our whole family. Like how I would be deployed to fight for my sisters. Like Shepard was off fighting some other war somewhere, as if protecting me from something, _someone…_ Letting me have this peaceful sleep without nightmares. Letting me have this rest after so much restless trauma. Letting me have this much, out of reach from my own demons.

Way out of reach from an actual _demon_ trying to end me in my sleep.

Vague echoes of Shepard activating her cloak, and of her sniper rifle firing: I knew she was out there fighting.

Fighting for me, I felt her keeping me safe, wherever she was, so far beyond my perception.

Knowing that kept my automatic numbness away, letting me feel everything completely. Letting me love her through this dreamless dream. Letting me hold on for these two or so years throughout her deployment.

_I could live with this, too._

_'Ashley…I love you.'_

* * *

Waking up the next morning, Miranda and I didn't need to speak.

She went to the guest room to shower. I showered in Shepard's bathroom. Just like before.

Our plans were simple enough:

Going to the Alliance base. Signing off on the transfer. Lying to Anderson about how I was doing. Lying to the team's face about understanding their grief over so-and-so's 'suicide'. Waiting for those Cerberus sleeper agents to steal Shepard's remains and get her pod off-world, then over to Lazarus Station. After Miranda confirmed everything was all set, she would invite the engineers here to the apartment, to set up that quantum entanglement communicator for us. After a few days, they would be finished.

And once those few days were up, the Illusive Man would finally answer all of my questions.

Miranda and I only talked once we made it up to the rooftop parking. She suggested that we take Shepard's car instead of hers. Since it would make the most sense. I didn't want to drive, but I made myself do it. There was something about the meaning behind driving Shepard's car that made me tear up a little as I went along. Having access to her home and passively being in that space was one thing. Having actual control like this and directing her car where I needed it to go was something else.

Once we reached the base, I parked in the indoor structure. Miranda stayed in the car. She promised to coordinate everything with the Illusive Man's agents as needed. I trusted her to get this done.

Walking through the building this time felt surreal. All as a reminder of my double-life now. All as reinforcement that I was a traitor to these soldiers I passed by, to these dedicated people who stopped to salute me. They saluted out of respect for who I was. They saluted out of respect for Shepard, knowing enough of how much she loved me. They saluted us both, together, even in death.

Somehow, I felt Shepard with me at my side, stronger.

As if I could have reached my hand out to hers next to mine.

This was definitely the last push I needed as I made it to Councilor Anderson's designated office.

I found him standing already, his hands clasped behind his back; next to the picture windows overlooking the San Diego Bay out there. That bright view of the city this sunny morning—it definitely didn't belong. Not today. Not after everything that had happened. Anderson probably thought the same. Staring out way past a thousand yards, I could only see his reflection in the glass from this angle. I could only hear the deep breaths he let out. The fatigue about him, the worry, the fears: I saw it all from where I was right by his desk.

Not wanting to interrupt, I couldn't bring myself to say anything, to pull him out of his thoughts.

Anderson reacted once he saw my reflection, turning around.

"Ashley!" he said, sort of forcing himself to smile. "I didn't see you there. My assistant told me you were on your way. I must have lost myself for a while…"

"It's okay, Sir," I told him. "I completely understand… It's been pretty rough."

Anderson agreed, "I'll say." He gestured to the chair next to me. "Please, sit."

We both sat down. We both shared in this pressure weighing us down.

But he was strong enough to lead us through: "I know things haven't been easy. I wish I could say it'll all get better soon. If only it were that simple." He watched me nod in agreement, fooled enough by my silence. "I heard you've made a decision about the burial service. I thought you might've needed some more time. I'm taking this as good news for you, how you're doing. So, how do you want to handle this?"

The explanation I prepared: "Honestly, after what happened last night, I think it'll be best if we just have the service here in San Diego instead. Everyone on my team…they're in bad shape. I don't want to drag this out. I want them to say goodbye to her. Even though I'm never going to let her go, they deserve this."

"I agree, actually. I heard about Dr. T'Soni as well. Knowing why she ended things…I can see why you're choosing to put your team first. I'm sorry you're dealing with this loss, too."

"Yeah, thanks…"

Anderson handed me the relevant datapads to sign. "Well, it's all there," he guided, watching as I read everything over. "Once you sign these, I'll have them sent right over to where they need to go. We'll have her pod moved to the proper facility until the service in a few days." Just like that, I signed my name, handing Shepard over. Just like that, Anderson smiled, and accepted my authority, handing the datapads over to his assistant, who promised to deliver them immediately. "Thank you, Ashley. We'll handle everything from here. I know this was a tough decision. You made the right call."

Staying _believable,_ I stressed out, privately, wondering if even his assistant was a sleeper agent. Miranda did seem really confident about this. It seriously creeped me out to think that Cerberus had their hands in this level of galactic government, up this high, close enough to touch the first human councilor himself.

And he had no idea.

Sighing, Anderson sat back in his chair some more, reminiscing, "You know, Shepard always hated ceremonies. She didn't like the formalities, the people, or the celebration. She would say it was all fake; that she had better things to do than to get all dressed up for pomp-and-circumstance. During your promotion, when it looked like Shepard had been hiding in a corner with Joker the whole time…I almost cracked up laughing in front of everyone. That was very much her style, after all. Staying in the shadows. Not wanting to be seen. Even when she played such a big part in fighting for you."

I suddenly remembered something Sarah had mentioned to me—"Sir, is it true that the Alliance didn't give her a promotion after the battle? Yeah, she… _was_ a Spectre. But she was a marine first and foremost. She deserved something from the military, too."

He gave a cryptic smile and said, "Believe me, we did reward her. It just wasn't public—as I knew she would've wanted." Really? Shepard had never told me about getting anything from the Alliance. "I do see what you mean, though. Now that she's passed on, I suppose it wouldn't hurt to give her a posthumous reward instead. We can make this one public. What do you think we should do this time?"

"Shepard was way overqualified for her rank. Lieutenant-Commander. A junior officer. Wouldn't it make sense to give her a promotion?"

"Hmm, you're right… The higher-ups _did_ slow her down quite a bit. All because she refused to make nice with them. Wasn't a team player. That sort of thing. Yet that's exactly why she was so effective in her specialization. I can argue her case for one last promotion, certainly. How about Commander?"

I smiled as much as I could. "Sounds perfect. Wouldn't ruin her brand as _Commander_ Shepard."

Anderson managed to laugh a little. "I couldn't agree more," he settled, pulling up his terminal. "I'll put in a request with Alliance Command now. We'll have a meeting, discuss everything. I'm sure they'll be willing to…" A call came in to his omni-tool, blinking over his computer at the same time. "Hang on, Ashley. This should be about the transfer. Excuse me while I take this."

"No problem."

"Yes, hello," said Anderson. "Right, right, you had permission—" His face fell. Not wanting me to worry, he turned around in his seat, facing off to the side instead. "Say what now? You did _what?"_ Even in his trained calm, I sensed he was about to burst at any moment now. "Whatever—never mind that! Where the hell are they going? Does anyone have eyes on them—?" He balled his powerful fist over the table, about to slam the surface. "No, I don't need to do that! You have your orders. And keep quiet. If this gets out, then we're all going under! Only call back once you learn something _useful."_

He hung up on them.

Sighing again in so much pain this time, Anderson couldn't look at me.

I should've been worried, but I was too focused on getting Shepard back.

I should've been scared, but I was even more afraid of living the rest of my life without Shepard in it.

"Sir? Is something wrong…?"

"Well…yes. I—I'm sorry, Ashley. I wish I had better news… If things don't improve, then I'll need to conduct an investigation. Do a full sweep. It sounds to me like we've been compromised."

"What do you mean? What are you talking about?"

 _"Someone's_ been waiting for you to do this. They took Shepard's pod with her remains. They took her, smuggled her off-base during this time we spent speaking… She's gone."

I pretended that Anderson was _her,_ and looked at him like that.

_Just like that._

Exactly as I hated. Exactly as I despised.

As strong as Anderson was, not even he could suffer keeping eye contact with me like this.

"I… I'm sorry," he repeated. "Honest to God, I have no idea how this happened. Don't know who it was, or why. Can't begin to speculate, either. And that makes it worse. _I didn't know,_ Ashley. Had no clue. We're all completely blindsided. In all my years, I've never felt as downright useless as I do right now."

Deadened, done: "So you're basically telling me it's impossible to get her back at this point. There's nothing you can do. Nothing at all?"

Anderson couldn't respond to me.

He still wouldn't look at me, either.

That was enough.

Enough of an excuse to stand up and leave. To leave his office. To leave that silence behind; to leave Shepard's own surrogate father in the throes of his make-believe incompetence. This could've destroyed him. _It could have,_ but I walked away regardless. I walked away, forcing myself to care more about my own selfish needs than anything he might've felt.

Stuck to my needs, I scowled as I passed through the base again. On my way to the team's complimentary living area, I felt myself repeating my stealth from last night. Despite Anderson's warnings about keeping the incident quiet, word had gotten around anyway, spreading quickly. Infecting everyone, that news made them scramble at a fast walk from place to place—sometimes jogging, a few times outright running if they were important enough and _had_ to be somewhere. No one stopped to salute me. No one stayed in my path, fearing the deep scowl on my face; thinking they knew exactly why I looked so pissed.

Scornful in mind, I had made my choices.

I had made my decisions.

After the way the Alliance had treated me and my family before, they could burn, too.

After the shit they put granddad through before his exoneration, _especially,_ I couldn't care anymore.

When it was a choice between having Shepard back, or staying loyal to the ones who'd constantly screwed me over before, everything was crystal clear to me.

I only hoped Shepard would agree whenever she found out what I did today.

Arriving to the team's shared space, I found that they were already out here: Garrus, Tali, and Wrex, all speaking to Dr. Chakwas, who frowned in worry as she explained the situation, looking grim. When I got here, they all took one look at me.

They understood.

"Ashley!" cried Tali, hurrying over here. "Ashley, Dr. Chakwas told us what happened!"

"Yeah, I heard about it, too," I answered, terse.

Hovering in place, Tali didn't know whether to hug me or keep her distance.

I couldn't know for sure, but before today, I'd gotten the feeling that she was mad at me for some reason. Mad at me for avoiding her; for staying on my own. Mad at me for needing my goddamned space after losing the love of my life. Like Tali honestly expected me to set my grief aside and let her be around me. Like she expected me to be there _for her_ when I already had enough shit going on.

Looking at her now, with Tali unable to look back at me, I had my fucking answer.

She was about to break down in tears again, but I didn't care.

Saving the moment, Dr. Chakwas reached our side, with Garrus and Wrex following close behind. "Thank goodness you're here, Ashley," she said. "We've just heard the news. Everything happened so quickly… I can't believe it! One moment they had everything under control—the next it was all chaos!"

"This was definitely coordinated," mentioned Garrus. "There's no way anyone should have been able to get away with this. Not something on this scale. Any idea who it could've been?"

"None," worried Dr. Chakwas. "None whatsoever. That's why this is so frightening. The Alliance itself is compromised! We believed we were safe enough from this sort of thing. Now Shepard's gone… _again."_

Wrex sighed. "It's been one thing after another. Not sure how much more of this I can take…"

"No kidding," I muttered, just to say something.

Uneasy, everyone looked at me.

So uncertain, they had no idea how to respond. How to deal with this. How to deal with _me._

Because if this emergency was real in my eyes—if I didn't have this under control—then this would've broken my mind and my heart right in half by now.

The others believed I only kept it together with my anger. With my disbelief.

Once again, that was enough.

Dr. Chakwas tried to console me, "Ashley, I'm so sorry… I won't lie. This is all a terrible nightmare. I can't imagine how you must be feeling. I'm worried for you. Very much so."

"Listen, I'm really numb to everything," I lied—sort of. "And I don't wanna stick around here in case there's _more_ bad news. It's like Wrex said. I don't know how much more of this I can take, either."

"Of course… I understand. I can't blame you, either. Perhaps you should return home."

"Yeah…I'll do that," I replied. Looking to Tali, Wrex, and Garrus, I said to them, "If you still want to go to Thessia for Liara, that's fine with me. Maybe we can figure something out for Shepard after that. I just need to be alone for a while. I'm seriously past my limit."

"No problem," accepted Garrus. "I guess…we'll leave soon. Stay at Liara's place for a bit. I'll email you once we're on our way back. Will that work for you?"

"Okay. Sure."

Sour and unfinished, and so unresolved, I left them there, left them standing there, staring after me.

Passing through more chaos and mayhem here on-base, everyone was still mindful enough to let me through. They let me pass by without incident. They let me go without suspecting a thing.

And when I made it back to the parking lot, back to Shepard's car, I returned to this silence.

This silence, here with Miranda as her omni-tool's interface glowed through this faint dark.

This dark silence deepened as she looked at me in a reserved sort of awe.

Yet again, I had surpassed her expectations.

Breaking the silence, Miranda spoke to me, gently, "Ashley, I have a visual on Shepard's pod. Do you need to confirm that this is her? For your own peace of mind." I leaned over to her, closer, eyes fixed on the live feed through her omni-tool. There I saw a handful of people standing up around the pod, each of them holding onto the overhead railings as their transport took them away. "Open it again. Show her."

Dressed in Alliance uniforms as their disguises, the agents opened the pod.

All over again, I saw Shepard in her N7 armor. That cracked armor, holding strong. That determined armor keeping her safe, keeping her remains together. Charred and burned, but still somehow unbroken, _she was there,_ dead to the world. Dead to everyone. Dead to my eyes, but not my heart.

I could only nod once before looking away.

Looking away and staring out to this parking lot past these tinted windows; wishing I could darken my own sight if it would help me forget. If it would give me some kind of mirage, or an illusion to hold on to instead. Crystal clear as my sight still was, I couldn't even blink this back. Not on my own. Not until I heard Miranda ordering her people to continue on. Not until I listened to her tell them to get Shepard off-world, immediately, and to transport her to Lazarus Station without delay. Not until I understood the implications of her next orders, of how she told her agents to _go off the grid_ once they were done.

I swallowed all of this down.

Shepard was just deployed. She was off to war.

I had to hold on. I had to keep believing in us. I had to be patient and wait for her to come back home.

All done with that now, Miranda closed her omni-tool. Still reserved, still in awe, she stared at me for a little while longer. Maybe she had misunderstood me before, before she knew my story. As powerful as she was, she understood my value now. She knew what I was capable of.

Miranda then asked me, still gentle, "Will you be all right?"

"Yeah. I'll be fine. I just want to go home."

"Then let's go."

Listening to her say that felt so much like a salve, cooling off enough of this heated tension deep in my skin.

Starting Shepard's car again, taking off from the base—I knew that I wouldn't be completely okay again.

For now, though, having Miranda's support was enough. She was more than good enough for me.

* * *

A few days later, with the quantum entanglement communicator all set up in the living room, it was time.

Miranda stood by my side as all went to black.

And then the stars opened up to the absolute red of a supergiant, up close:

A lone silhouette before that pulsing red, glimmering more along the sheen of the glossy surface of the cold floor—the Illusive Man sat in his minimalist chair, facing me. Like sitting in the dead center of that dying star at his back, the complete view of that burning sphere reflected off of the floor under the slickness of his shoes, underneath his legs crossed in ease and comfort. All-black except for the white of his unbuttoned dress shirt and the trims along his sleeves, his finely-threaded suit smoldered in that starlight. Angled just right, he wore his short, light brown hair waved and slicked back in richness and superiority, the shape and color hazed from the molten heat behind him.

Glowing more, the slightly-aged angles and mild wrinkles of his face shined and shadowed in that red.

Glowing differently, the focus of his eyes on me shined in a familiar-looking eerie blue, controlled.

Lighting cinders, he inhaled from his cigarette, before exhaling a cloud of smoke around him, billowing as purpose, all on purpose.

The Illusive Man spoke to us on that exhale: "Lieutenant Williams. Miranda. It's good to see you both here at long last." Tapping his cigarette's ashes into the tray along his armrest, he went on, "This meeting has been in the works for quite a while. I'm relieved that everything's gone according to plan so far. We had to switch gears after losing Commander Shepard to the Collector attack. And then once again after Dr. T'Soni's death. But the changes have clearly been in our favor. This talk of ours had to happen. One way or another."

Miranda told him, "Absolutely, Sir. The Alliance is still conducting their investigation into the disappearance of Shepard's remains. I've told all of our agents at the Coronado base to go off the grid before returning to us. Our intelligence on that location has gone completely dark. But I'm positive that the payoff will be worth it. More than worth it to have this opportunity. This is a victory for humanity."

"I agree wholeheartedly with your assessment, Miranda," replied the Illusive Man. As he smoked again, the glow of his eyes found me through that fog. "And we have you to thank for this, Lieutenant. I understand that your primary concern is Shepard's return. I can assure you that the Lazarus Project will proceed as planned, now that we've secured her pod at our facility. Still, you should know that your actions in getting rid of T'Soni—however accidental—were critically important to reaching this point. Moving forward, we can proceed with the truth. Not the lies you believed in before."

Overwhelmed by all of this, I had to make myself respond, "Right, those lies. We all thought that Liara was the one keeping Shepard safe. Seemed like it was obvious, anyway. I never had a reason to question it. So when Miranda told me that I was the one this whole time, I almost couldn't believe it."

The Illusive Man appeared to sympathize with me. "It's reasonable that you and your team would reach those conclusions. I don't have confirmation on this, so I need to ask you. When you spoke with Matriarch Benezia's disciple, Shiala, as well as Saren Arterius, the Ilos VI, and Sovereign itself, how did they describe the process? What did they say that led you to believe it was Dr. T'Soni?"

"They all pretty much said the same thing," I remembered. "That it was someone strengthening Shepard's willpower. Like she already had the potential in her, and she just needed someone to unlock it in her. Like that strength was some kind of protection from the indoctrination itself. Then they talked about another Cipher, from the Protheans, from Liara—how that was what unlocked everything. The one person who said something sort of different was Shiala, after the Thorian on Feros. But Liara had a thing going with Shepard back then… It only made sense that it was her."

"That would indeed make the most sense. I'm aware that the two of them shared a connection through the asari bonding process. Is this why you believed it was her?"

"Yeah, it was the main reason… Never crossed my mind that I could compete with that sort of thing."

"You underestimated yourself, Williams," said the Illusive Man—encouraging, empowering. "Just as the Alliance underestimated you. Just as Dr. T'Soni did in your rivalry with her. In the end, her hubris got the better of her. You had already given Shepard the power she needed, back on Eden Prime. T'Soni's involvement was merely a means to an end. She's no longer useful. We can move on without her."

"But… _how?_ Miranda said something about the Prothean beacon, the one Shepard protected me from. Why was it such a big deal?"

"We have proof that you shaped Shepard's capabilities in that moment, when she pulled you away from the beacon's hold. You both came into contact with Prothean technology, setting the stage for the rest to play out as it did. When she overloaded the beacon, Shepard received more than the Protheans' warnings about the Reapers in her visions. She received the knowledge, however unconscious, about this very process. And with that knowledge, you unknowingly transferred your own desires to her, both conscious and unconscious. The strength of your feelings for her. Your devotion. There is great power in that strength, in your emotions. All Shepard needed was a way to unlock that power, in order to fully strengthen her own will against Reaper indoctrination. That is where T'Soni came in."

"So you're telling me the beacon gave Shepard the strength of my feelings for her, as the foundation of her new powers. My actual _emotions_ helped her against the Thorian. Against Sovereign, too… And that Liara just _unlocked_ that power I gave to Shepard, through the bond they had. All as a one-and-done deal. Shepard doesn't need Liara or their bond anymore from now on. She only needs me…to keep believing in her?"

"That is correct."

He sounded more than confident about this, too.

After sitting with this truth for over a week now, I could finally accept it.

Then I remembered: "There's one other thing, though. When we talked to Vigil on Ilos, it said that only people with _alternative lifestyles_ could do this. You said that this started on Eden Prime. Shepard and I definitely didn't have anything like this back then. How do you explain that?"

"Normally, that is indeed the case," replied the Illusive Man. "The most successful Protheans did have those sorts of relationships with one another. This wasn't always true. Sometimes, a deep connection between superior and subordinate was sufficient. In your case, you had an agreement with Shepard as your leader and you as a soldier on her team. Spoken word through her orders to you, and your consent to follow her will—this was enough to lay the foundations for the rest."

I believed that.

Because even back then, and ever since that day, whenever Shepard would give me orders to follow, I would feel that high. That trance. That type of subspace I loved so much, helping me focus. Helping me push myself. Making me stronger.

"You said you have proof," I brought up. "If you didn't know what Shiala and the others said about the process, then how'd you figure all of this out? I believe what you're saying and everything. I have to see this for myself."

"We figured you would want to know. Miranda?"

Prepared already, Miranda used her omni-tool to forward me a few emails. "I kept a close watch on most communications between you and your team," she mentioned. "Aside from your chat room, I also took stock of any email exchanges I could get my hands on. I wasn't able to obtain much directly from your Alliance emails. Anything sent from outside of your network, I was able to access. Take a look."

Reading over what she sent, this was from Dr. Michel to Dr. Chakwas, replying to her questions during the hours Shepard had spent knocked out in a coma. Right after Eden Prime. Dr. Chakwas wanted to know if Dr. Michel knew anything about Prothean beacons. And if not, then she was curious to know if Dr. Michel had ever experienced anything of a sixth sense, in being able to pick up on someone's mind being strengthened somehow.

They exchanged messages about this, back and forth, until Shepard brought Liara back from Therum.

Dr. Chakwas then told Dr. Michel about the sudden change: how Shepard seemed to be _unlocked,_ with her potential soaring well past what she could've ever expected. And she discovered even more once we all got back from Feros, after Shepard had resisted the Thorian's thrall with only a killer headache to show for it—all while Kaidan had fallen victim to that thrall instead, just like anyone else would have done.

Out of everything Dr. Chakwas had written in these emails, this jumped out at me:

_'Could it be that the Prothean beacon on Eden Prime was what blessed Shepard with her newfound capabilities? Or some type of other phenomenon linked to the beacon. That was when this all started, after all. Once the commander rescued Liara on Therum, everything appeared to open to the universe for her, completely unguarded. I do believe that this has somehow brought out the unknown mysteries of our collective unconscious as an organic species. As if her very mind has become an extension of her intentions, her willpower, and her perception, and not the other way around. I will need to ask Shepard about this at some point. Hopefully when she's feeling more receptive to my medical advice.'_

She was spot-on.

With her so-called sixth sense as Shepard's doctor, she knew.

The Illusive Man added, "That's not all. We can confirm from preliminary work on Shepard's remains that you are the one who protected her. We've also cross-referenced our findings with the data we were able to uncover from Sovereign's wreckage. Our scientists created a visual simulation of the process for you, to help clear up any doubts you might still have. Allow me to show you what we found."

Pressing a few buttons along the armrest of his chair, the Illusive Man brought up a glowing, translucent schematic of Sovereign on top of the Citadel Tower that day. Zooming inside the Reaper's form, he found Shepard there, her silhouette glimmering in invisibility from her tactical cloak. Kneeling in place inside of Sovereign, this was the exact moment when she had stopped, suffering the strongest hit from Sovereign trying to indoctrinate her, to stop her from reaching its weak point.

Pausing the moment here, the Illusive Man illustrated, "You recall that she could have easily failed here. Anyone else would have. And Shepard would've done so, if not for the connection the two of you share. Even though she wasn't consciously aware of the truth at the time, she had a feeling that it was you. That was enough to help her pull through."

Showing more of Shepard's cloaked form, closer, this visual of her head showed an actual color.

"We'll use blue as an example. Blue is for T'Soni's influence. Blue for water, as a representation of her element within Shepard's mind. Let's see what would've happened if hers was the dominant influence at the time instead. Meaning if the two of them had continued on together, leaving you out of the picture as much as possible. If Shepard had no reason to believe in you at all."

Pressing play, the blue glow of Shepard's head shined forth through the simulation. I watched this virtual example of her struggle, struggling so hard as she gripped her head in sheer agony, about to fall…but then she didn't. Heaving for breath, Shepard forced herself to keep going. She crawled through the hallways, carrying that hoverboard that Saren had with him before. Crawling through, she slowed down a lot, trying to keep her head, trying to focus. But somehow, she made it through to the chamber with those overhead controls.

Still on the ground, curled up there, Shepard kept gripping her head, clutching at her skull to make it all stop. The pain kept going and going—getting worse once that loud, thunderous blare sounded from Sovereign itself, mocking her to obey. Shepard couldn't stand up. She couldn't activate the controls just above her. Instead of falling victim to the indoctrination, she resisted the only way she could: Shepard grabbed her sidearm, aimed her pistol at her head…and shot herself dead.

Before my eyes could start stinging too much, the Illusive Man reset everything, saving me from that sight.

Here was Shepard again, cloaked and brought back to that moment in the hallway, still kneeling there.

"Now we'll switch to red." More button presses, and Shepard's head, her mind within glowed a fiery color this time. "Red is for your influence, Williams. For fire, as the one and only representation of your element within Shepard's mind. This is exactly what it was at the time, unchanged. Let's watch."

And then everything played out exactly as it had before:

Shepard only grabbed the wall nearby, clawing at it, once, before the red of her mind enflamed, stronger. She carried on without issues. She made her way through the hallways, past those husks lying around everywhere. She reached the chamber with ease. She pulled down on those controls, even in the middle of Sovereign blaring at her in warning, as a last-ditch effort. She disabled its shields and got the hell out of there. She escaped back to the Citadel and down to the _Normandy_ where Joker had caught her, while the Citadel fleets had finished off Sovereign, all as a major victory— _mission accomplished._

It all made perfect sense to me.

I remembered Shiala describing all of this. How the _taste_ of Shepard's so-called indoctrination was elevated, but in chaos back then. It was of the gods. As if the person holding onto her mind viewed Shepard with that same greatness, lifting her with the very determination of those gods. Meaning it _was_ me, all this time. I had always thought of Shepard as a god, an organic god, just in how much I admired her, how strongly I loved her. Even in how much I wanted her to myself, I wished I could've protected her from outside influences, from being tempted by anyone other than me. I had always needed her this badly.

Sickening, desperate…like a child. Juvenile. Like Sovereign had said.

Plus, back on the Citadel, Saren had admitted to trying to throw Shepard off. To set her down the wrong path. He'd tried everything he could to fool us into believing that it was Liara: making her seem so important, all while knowing that it was a lie. If anything, he had to have known that it was me. Right from Eden Prime.

Saren had intended on Shepard falling exactly as she had in that simulation, all by believing in those lies.

He'd probably even had Benezia in on it, too.

Was I supposed to be that _lesser tool_ Benezia had talked about?

Did she know, and she wanted her daughter to have all the glory, no matter the cost? Or was that just Saren's influence messing with her head?

Either way, Shepard had somehow known better. She'd had a feeling that it was me. She'd had a feeling, even if it was an unconscious thing. She'd gone with her instincts instead of what was in front of her.

Shepard had believed in me, too…

The Illusive Man said, "Even with all the facts we've collected, there are still a few unknowns. It's perfectly understandable that you conflated Dr. T'Soni's role with this same protection. We have a hypothesis about this."

I looked to Miranda, asking, "The first time the three of us talked, you said something about Shepard's _sanity,_ didn't you?"

"That's right," she confirmed. "It seems that T'Soni did more than just open up the powers you gave to Shepard back on Eden Prime. From what I could tell, Shepard's personality changed drastically in a very short time. I feared what would happen if the two of them were ever separated somehow."

"Are you still afraid of that? I mean, once Shepard's back…"

The Illusive Man summarized, "Dr. T'Soni will not be there when Shepard returns. And we'll all be better for it. We won't have to worry about Shepard trying to hold on to those lies, possibly forsaking you in the process. She'll be able to continue her success against the Reapers once they arrive in force. But Miranda disagrees."

Defensive, Miranda countered, "Sir, I've told you—it's because Shepard is bound to be _unstable_ without the asari. We can't know if she'll be able to proceed with the mission. It would've been better for Shepard to stay as she was: with T'Soni's support, and with Ashley continuing to believe in her for the fight. The three of them would have needed to find a balance and cooperate with one another…"

The Illusive Man rested his head in his hand, smoking again; sighing out that exhale, almost exasperated.

Because he and I both knew—there was _no way_ that would've worked.

Not with me being one more argument away from smearing Liara's guts over the walls. Not with her being one desperate attempt away from shoving me out of the picture completely.

Not in the long-term.

"Miranda, you already know that would've failed," lectured the Illusive Man. "There's no need to keep deluding yourself about that impossible possibility. Once Shepard sees what's at stake here, she'll let T'Soni go. We can't waste time coddling her like a child. So I need you on board with this. If the Lazarus Project reveals any serious problems, we can only work with what we have left. This is for the best. Find another solution."

"Understood…"

"Lieutenant Williams. I expected much of this information would come as a shock to you. I'm glad that you've embraced the truth willingly. Seeing your strengths and capabilities for myself, I've come to appreciate the tragedy of your life. How so many others spent far too much time doubting you, thinking themselves above you, simply because of your station in life. Shepard no doubt saw your potential from very early on. She sought to bring it out, all by believing in you, just as you believe in her. I'm pleased to say that she's succeeded."

I wasn't expecting that at all. "Thanks… It helps to hear that. Even from someone like you."

Smirking a bit, he said, "I'm equally pleased to see that we understand one another. Commander Shepard _will_ be back. I guarantee you. When she's restored, we'll be sending her after the Collectors as soon as possible. Despite your many grievances with Cerberus, you've shown a willingness to serve under Shepard's command again. I have confirmation from Miranda on this, but I'd also like to hear it from you directly. When the time comes, will Shepard be able to count on your support in the fight? Will she be able to rely on you once more as her second-in-command?"

"No doubt about it," I replied, determined. "I'm setting aside my problems with Cerberus. I have to. You know that Shepard's everything to me. I can't hide that. Can't deny it, either. Maybe that makes me vulnerable to you, but I'm willing to take my chances. I'll be there at Shepard's side once she's back."

"That's exactly what I like to hear. You have my word: I will dedicate any and all resources to bringing Shepard back. When she returns, I'll do what I can to help you and Shepard's team end the Collectors, and the Reaper threat. And when this is all over—when the Reapers are defeated once and for all—the galaxy will know that it was _humanity_ who saved them. Two humans, defying their limitations to become as the gods themselves. The ultimate goal of Cerberus is the advancement and preservation of humanity. So this is certainly a cause I can support."

Miranda also promised me, "You have my support as well, Ashley. The next two years or so will no doubt be hard on you. I'll be working around the clock to ensure that Shepard comes back as she was before, with only the best improvements for her existing implants. I wasn't particularly enthused about these _beliefs,_ putting our faith in fairy tales…but I suppose it's all we have."

"It is kind of surreal," I mentioned. "Turning someone into a god like this."

The Illusive Man was wise enough to point out: "Our gods are whatever we want them to be. They're driven by our faith, our beliefs—not strictly based in scientific fact. You are religious yourself, Lieutenant Williams. You ought to know what it is I mean." I understood completely. He gave me a ghost of a smile. "You and I will speak again after the next mission begins. Miranda will be in touch, updating you on Shepard's progress. Good luck with your N7 Soldier training, Williams. We'll need you at your very best for the fight ahead. I trust that you won't let us down."

* * *

Spending the rest of the holidays with Miranda like this, through Christmas and New Year's and a little after, I saw how lost I would've been without her.

After this time, I was pretty sure I could start my N7 training and do well, knowing that I had Miranda to lean on over the next two years. She could trust me, too—in her own ways, at least—while she worked on the Lazarus Project, updating me on her progress the whole way.

For now, Miranda promised to stay at home with me until my team returned to Earth. They were already gone, off to Thessia for Liara's funeral with her family and colleagues. I was perfectly fine waiting for them to get back here a few days after New Year's, as they said they would. I had the Alliance's permission for us to go visit the plot of grass where Shepard's remains would've been buried, if they hadn't lost her. So the others agreed that we could use that time to say goodbye to her instead, to have something instead of nothing.

I didn't expect us to have a full-on memorial or anything. Shepard wouldn't have wanted us to make a big deal like that. Just sitting there in quiet reflection, remembering her. Maybe saying a few words. That would work.

Miranda would be there, too. In the background. Unseen for most of the time.

I already planned on bringing her over once the others left; once we all said our goodbyes to each other.

Even though she and Shepard had never met before, I wanted Miranda to have that moment anyway.

She deserved it.

Until then, we mostly spent our time watching TV. Or Miranda would watch me play Shepard's video games. If we weren't in the same room, Miranda was sometimes busy cooking for me, for us, more than willing to take on that responsibility. Or she was in the guest room, sitting at the office desk, working on her terminal. Getting the last of her Lazarus resources together, gathering the rest of her staff for the project, and making sure her scientists, engineers, and other colleagues had everything under control with the rest of their preliminary work and preparations.

Sleeping in the same bed together helped us both.

We weren't lonely or anything. We had each other.

At the same time, though, our temptations kept flaring up. I wanted Miranda so badly—for her to make me feel everything she'd said during our first conversation. I wanted her…and it was worse because I wasn't numb, because I bled with my feelings so openly, without holding anything back. I definitely thought about just going for it. I really, really did. But then my period started as a wake-up call, as a reminder that I wasn't _late._ I remembered all over again: the things I wanted with Shepard, and the life I'd spent so long dreaming about with her. So, when I thought about it that way…I couldn't betray her.

I wouldn't let myself do anything with Miranda, aside from us holding each other in our sleep.

I wouldn't let myself do anything more, but I never stopped wanting her.

Maybe this was why she'd said I wasn't serious about it, before. Back at the 94. She knew better.

I appreciated her even more for that.

A few nights before Christmas Eve, Miranda surprised me: she actually played one of Shepard's video games when I asked her to, when I said I wanted to watch her play for once. She insisted that she wasn't a gamer, and that she would be terrible at it. But she did it for me anyway, knowing that it made me happy to see her step out of her comfort zone like this.

I settled on one of Shepard's stealth games, thinking it would be easier for her. Sneaking around as an assassin in the shadows, hiding in plain sight in the crowds, and killing targets out in elaborate set pieces across the world—I figured Miranda would like that kind of thing.

I started cracking up once I saw how bad she was.

Miranda kept getting spotted by the guards everywhere. She couldn't blend in with the crowds. She couldn't kill anyone without being detected. Then whenever she got caught and had to enter combat with her swords, she would spam the attack button without defending herself, without healing. And then she'd end up dying.

She wasn't even _trying_ to learn. She was just flustered, frustrated.

"Oh, goddamnit!" cursed Miranda, once the game over screen popped up for like the tenth time. "How was I supposed to get past all of those guards? They were everywhere!"

I tried not to keep laughing at her. "Honestly, I don't know. Maybe you were supposed to find another route or something. It's pretty open-ended."

Miranda complained more, "Maybe… I'd prefer some actual structure. This is too much for me."

"Let me see her stats," I said, taking the controller back. "Wow… The last time she played, Shepard beat this game in less than a few hours. And without killing anyone except for the main targets, _or_ getting spotted. During her longer playthroughs, she found every secret and discovered every path to assassinate the main targets. She learned everything inside and out."

"Well, she must have cheated," justified Miranda. "Can't I do that? Find some way to hack the game?"

I laughed. "No, you can't! You're supposed to actually play it!"

Miranda stood up and left. "Fine. Whatever. I'm going to find something to make for us. Have fun on your own."

While she went over to the kitchen, I kept smiling, glad that she'd at least made an effort for me.

I closed out this game and opened up that N7 shooter I'd watched Shepard play before.

Not long after I did, I got a message from someone on her friends list.

I smiled more once I saw that it was from Infiltrait0rN7, asking me— _"Game?"_

Knowing what I knew of them, this was one of Miranda's colleagues. So they knew that it was _me._ I went ahead and wrote back, warning that I was new. They offered to teach me how to play, starting on the beginner Bronze difficulty with just the two of us. Then they invited me to a party. I joined up and entered their lobby, finding them on their regular old geth infiltrator character, tried and true.

Shepard was already on her male quarian infiltrator from the last time she'd played for me.

Not feeling too confident about playing the same class, I scrolled through the soldier characters instead.

I grinned over the krogan soldier, remembering that time Shepard and her friend had played in that all-krogan party, having a blast together. But then the N7 Destroyer caught my eye. He was super bulky with his mostly-black T5-V battlesuit. He did look really strong with his multi-frag grenades and missile launcher. Turning into a turret with this devastator mode thing, with more weapon damage, better clip extensions, and a higher rate of fire…that did sound interesting.

So I picked this N7 Destroyer, looking over his gear. He was already at max level, and Shepard had left a really strong assault rifle and shotgun on him. She'd spent his ability points how she wanted him, too. I didn't want to mess with anything. I wanted to play the character the way she had.

I actually wasn't that bad at first, despite hating the limited mobility on this guy. Having watched Shepard play so much, I'd picked up on a lot of things without realizing it. Her friend seemed happy to revive me whenever I did get my ass kicked, usually after I got too cocky about my odds. I enjoyed having backup like this. Being able to trust in someone, even though I didn't really know them.

At some point, Miranda came back after putting the food in the oven. She sat back down at my side, watching me play this time. I wasn't even paying attention to the enemy type until she asked about it:

"Who are you fighting, Ashley? Some type of enhanced supersoldier units? They look quite coordinated with one another."

I took a look at the centurion I had just gunned down, replying, "Oh, yeah. It's Cerberus."

"Cerberus?!" sputtered Miranda. "But…we don't _fight_ like this! Not out in the open. We specialize in intelligence and subterfuge, as I'm sure you know by now. We don't have these types of armies!"

I shrugged, remembering what Shepard had said to me about the geth: "It's just a game, Miranda."

Scoffing, she muttered, "Even so, I don't like it. This is a gross misrepresentation of how we run things…"

I figured now was the best time to find out, "So, why'd you join Cerberus in the first place? I've been meaning to ask. I can tell you care a lot about humanity and everything. You like being in charge of these important jobs for us. Is that it, though?"

Letting her guard down some more, Miranda kept watching me play, revealing: "This goes back to my childhood. My history. I wasn't actually _born_ as a person, as you and Shepard were. My father created me with his DNA. He was completely egomaniacal. I wasn't someone with actual feelings. Not in his eyes. I wasn't his daughter. He created me to be perfect, to be a part of his legacy. I ran away from him. Cerberus recruited me when I needed them most."

I was about to put the controller down, to listen to her more, to look at her properly—

Miranda pushed the controller back into my hand, insisting without words that I keep playing.

She continued on, "My father used to donate generously to Cerberus. That's how I was able to contact the Illusive Man. He respects my value and what I have to offer. He helped me, took me in when I had nothing. I owe him my life. He's earned my loyalty. So, by default, I'm also loyal to the organization. I have everything I could've wanted. I have a near-infinite amount of resources at my fingertips. Cerberus doesn't hold me back. If I want to do something, they give me permission to do it. It isn't complicated."

I accepted that Miranda definitely didn't want to talk about her father in detail, her upbringing.

"Okay, then how do you deal with Cerberus' reputation? Human supremacists and all. You got along with Liara just fine before you found out who she really was. Or was that an act?"

"It wasn't an act," said Miranda with ease. "I don't like that too many people join Cerberus out of simple racism and xenophobia. I do my best to keep my distance from _those_ co-workers of mine. In fact, I've gone the extra mile to vet everyone in the Lazarus Cell—extensively—on these grounds. I can't have anyone working on Shepard with me if they hold those views. She wouldn't approve otherwise. At all."

"No, she wouldn't…"

"Besides, I don't condone everything that Cerberus has done. I'm only responsible for my own duties."

"Does the Illusive Man condone everything, then? Even the worst of the worst that goes on?"

Miranda explained, "I know what you're thinking, Ashley. Those were rogue, out-of-control splinter cells that tainted our reputation. I can assure you: before I was assigned as head of the Lazarus Project, I was in charge of visiting those splinter cells and terminating them once they became too inconvenient. All on the Illusive Man's orders. He knows that our people don't always get it right. But he also won't tolerate the negative consequences when that happens. He and I both want to do what's best for humanity."

Something told me that Miranda was out of her league on this.

She couldn't _seriously_ think that Cerberus were the good guys, masquerading as terrorists or whatever else.

Because it sounded to me like she trusted the Illusive Man more than anything. His word was law. Those rogue cells that had supposedly tainted their reputation were easy scapegoats, sure. Miranda owed Cerberus and the Illusive Man her life. So of course she'd turn a blind eye to the worst shit they had going on. Or she'd handwave it away and act like none of that stuff represented the organization at all.

Miranda must have gone through a hell of a time if Cerberus had been her only real lifeline.

Maybe I could relate. Just not in all the same ways.

"'Too inconvenient', huh?" I questioned instead.

"In any event," she went on, "I truly believe that Cerberus are the realists among us. We're willing to make the hard choices in a hard galaxy. The Alliance is far too formal, bogged down by their own indecision and such a need to be decent, playing by the rules. They wasted too much time sitting and _waiting_ for our seat on the Council until you came along. We can't afford to play nice when our very survival is at stake."

That almost sounded like a huge contradiction to me.

Then again, I was as much of a contradiction as Miranda was, as the Illusive Man was, if not more.

I had already traded away my morals for my selfishness instead. So I had no room to complain here.

No matter those contradictions, I felt myself growing attached to Miranda anyway. Like…how she was always _there_ for me, always willing to spend this kind of time with me. I could tell she wasn't exactly a normal person, even with her background. Maybe she wasn't used to this sort of thing: chilling and hanging out for fun, to forget. She found her own enjoyment in it for me. She found a way to relax for me, with me. Whatever else lingered between us, she chose not to mention it. And I kept quiet, too.

Still, leaning on Miranda emotionally like this—I knew that we had already tipped the scales here.

This definitely wasn't _just_ a friendship.

But she wasn't my girlfriend, either.

Especially with the way we looked at each other from time to time, her pupils dilating whenever she saw me.

I wanted to know Miranda's body as much as she claimed to know my mind. I wanted to feel her, to help her relax even more. I wanted to excite her. I wanted to see for myself that everything still _worked_ with me. That I wasn't broken or anything. That even though I wasn't the same, I would make it through.

I could only find glimpses of my hopes whenever I woke up in her arms every morning.

I could only feel them, barely, through the lingering power of my feelings for Shepard, overpowering and eclipsing all the rest. I felt them more whenever I was alone in the shower, forcing myself to stay quiet while I got off to her. So fucking desperate, I ended up crying every single time, wishing I could pull her back from the fabric of reality itself, to bring her back home way sooner.

With that pain, I forced myself to stay present with it, in the moment.

I refused to dissociate.

I refused to numb myself; to forget too much.

I refused to let go of my faith and have my way with Miranda instead, giving in. As stunning as she was, and as fascinating as she was, I couldn't bring myself to do it. Because I knew that Shepard was coming back. So if I gave in and messed around with Miranda, that would've been cheating…right?

I felt bad enough about this emotional relationship she and I already had going on.

I didn't need to add to that by _giving in…_ no matter how crazy she made me sometimes.

When Christmas was finally here, I didn't even have the heart to go visit Dad's grave. I'd planned on it. But I was too ashamed. Too worried that he judged me for what I'd done.

I just stayed home with Miranda during the day instead.

I did surprise her again, with a gift this time, bringing things back to the obvious: a rare print collection of some of Shepard's sexy fashion magazines. I picked this specifically as a little hint that I knew about Miranda's past. How serious her feelings for Shepard probably were. Knowing, or not knowing, Miranda had actually smiled as she held the magazines in her hands. I saw the way her eyes shined in the daylight pouring inside the apartment, almost like she was about to cry. She wouldn't let herself go that far. Not in front of me.

Her reaction was still sweet, though.

That evening, we finally left the house for something other than buying bare necessities.

I took Miranda to the Cheesecake Factory down in Fashion Valley for us to have dinner together. She agreed to pay for us as her Christmas gift to me—and she promised to buy me a whole cheesecake to take back home with us.

I wasn't a Spectre, so I couldn't get that same table Shepard had reserved for the two of us before. The manager was still nice enough to let us right in, as a favor to me. And I really liked seeing this side of Miranda while we had dinner here, with her lighting up some more as we talked about whatever. I even got to see her laugh a little, which was pretty rare. She mostly told me about her twin sister Oriana, what she was like. I could tell how much Miranda cared about protecting her sister from their father.

This joyous high stayed with us over the next week…until New Year's Eve.

Miranda wasn't in the mood to go out for the occasion. I didn't feel like going out, either. Not with those crowds outside, everywhere.

We sat together on the couch, in the living room, with the blinds of the windows open to the late of night. As it got closer and closer to midnight, I turned off the game I'd been playing. Miranda and I just sat together in silence. Thinking. Listening to each other breathe. We were way too high up to hear anyone down in the city. And the walls of Shepard's apartment were strong enough to keep out any noise from her neighbors out in the hall or next door to us.

We knew that we only had a couple of more days left until the team came back.

We knew that we'd have to go to Shepard's not-funeral once everyone was here.

We knew that we'd have to say goodbye to each other not long after that.

For as long as Shepard was… _deployed,_ I knew that I wasn't alone.

Miranda was my sanctuary.

I was the same for her.

We both knew that when we looked at each other this time, with just a few more minutes to midnight.

Moving closer to me, Miranda stopped herself before she could get too close. Too close for her own comfort, but not necessarily too close for mine. I wouldn't say it. I wouldn't talk to her about what I struggled with, and she wouldn't ask me to say anything about it. She was perceptive enough to know the truth by now.

She seemed to stop here for more reasons than I could see right then and there.

Keeping her face a breath away from mine, Miranda let out a shallow exhale. Sweet from the champagne we'd indulged in earlier, sweeter from her attention on me like this—she restrained herself, all for so many reasons, and all for me.

But Miranda still said, "Ashley, don't you think…that this is getting to be too much?"

Genuinely not seeing the same thing, I asked her, "What do you mean?"

"Even though Shepard chose you, I get the feeling you don't quite know your own strengths. Your own potential. Who you _could be_ for someone like me. The way I want you—it's downright depraved, and you don't even see it. You haven't picked up on a single thing. Have you?"

"No… I know we've really swept this under the rug. I figured it wasn't that serious for you."

"That isn't true…"

Throbbing, aching, I gave in a bit with my offer: "Do you wanna talk about it?"

Miranda wouldn't let herself be that vulnerable with me.

"I don't think we should," she whispered, so sweet. "Not in that kind of detail. I only want you to understand that this isn't about love. I'm not here to take her place. I could never do that. I think, at this point, my heart is at its maximum capacity. If things were different, then maybe that wouldn't be the case. I'm mainly sharing this to keep you from worrying."

"Well, I'm glad you told me," I replied, smiling a little. "I'm pretty sure it's the same on my end. I like being close to you, Miranda. I get that we both need this. Even if it's…on the borderline with something else. I _am_ trying not to worry about it. So I want us to stay right where we are. Unless things change."

Miranda smiled a bit, too, accepting, "All right, then. We'll do that."

Somewhere beyond the windows, the city's skies brightened with those crackling lights from the fireworks.

Miranda's eyes lit up with those colors: of red, blue, violet, all dazzling her sight so focused on me.

Giving in only a bit, only a little bit: Miranda held one side of my face with her hand, gentle and unassuming. The other side, she settled her lips over, far enough away from mine. Far enough away, but still so close in the way she heated me in this thickness of her, indulging in me and pampering me, dulcet in succulence. Enchanting me with this, seducing me with this single taste, Miranda gave me her experience without experience. Almost off-balance as she was, since this was new for her, with me—she stayed here in this fantasy at midnight, going on and on without overstepping. Relaxing me as much as she set me off. Needing me as much as she denied herself, and as much as she respected my wishes.

We somehow stayed locked in this time, in this moment as the next days passed, back to the present.

Back to this last promise I had to keep for the others, for my team.

Meeting everyone here at this reserved plot of grass at the Alliance graveyard, we found Shepard's unmarked grave in this spot. Where she would have been buried. Where she would have lay to rest if I hadn't intervened, if Cerberus hadn't intervened.

Such a cloudy day, too. Not even the skies agreed with her being gone like this.

I made myself sit here on the grass, staying in this moment with everyone: Wrex, Tali, Garrus, and even Joker now that he'd come back around, after he'd joined the others on Thessia when they'd said their goodbyes to Liara. I wished that Kaidan could've been with us, too. He was still in the middle of a bunch of operations, back-to-back. We couldn't reach him at all. His doctor did promise that Kaidan would catch up on all the news as soon as he was well enough.

Until then, it was only the five of us here.

Miranda was practically in the shadows, watching us from afar. Waiting her turn, so patient.

Knowing that this was the last time we'd all be together for a while, I set my grudges and other feelings aside.

I had Tali sit with me, here in my lap while I held her close. Still raw and full of emotions, Tali held on to me—sniffling, crying while she hid away against my chest; not wanting the others to see her through her mask. Garrus, Joker, and Wrex sat around us, just nearby. We stayed together like this without a word. Only the occasional sounds of someone else sniffling, someone other than Tali. No matter how oblivious they all were to me, to what I'd actually done, we remained here in our unity.

I thought back to Eden Prime, when Shepard and I had first met. Back when she'd been surprisingly neutral toward me. Back when she'd refused to let anything more show. Maybe, if I had looked closely enough, I could've spotted the truth, even then. But she was so closed-off. So unreadable. So unyielding, and she wanted things to stay that way. Trying to see anything from her perspective, her point of view at the time was next to impossible. It just wasn't going to happen.

Thanks to Liara, she did start to change over time. She did start to open up. She did start to be herself.

I accepted that this was the way things had to be. Even if I had made a move on Shepard earlier, again, it wasn't going to happen. It wasn't in the cards. That wasn't our fate, our destiny together.

This was our story now—mine with hers.

Everyone remembered Shepard exactly as I saw her: the only person in this galaxy who could get the job done, no matter the cost.

Commander Shepard was the best marine, the best infiltrator, and the best leader in the galaxy…bar-none. Such a powerful leader, inspiring us to do our very best, whether she noticed or not. And Shepard always noticed. Nothing ever got past her. I remembered how surprised I was when I saw for myself just how attentive she could be. Attentive in her attention to detail, always making sure the rest of us on the team were taken care of. So direct and to-the-point, finding her own ways to sympathize with us. So professional with us; unforgiving with anyone who dared to cross her.

As ruthless and harsh as she was sometimes, I still loved her. I loved her _because_ she was so merciless, and yet she would always make an effort to be kind to me. She would bend her priorities for me. She would put me first. She would still let me smile at her when she scowled; still buy me flowers and take me out when she was distant; still let me hold her when she couldn't hold me back.

I held on to her now, knowing that she was so far away.

So far away, but I still felt her clearly—clearer than the skies above.

Our team felt her, too.

And even though it wasn't the same as with me, I knew that they would never let her go.

So much so that we seemed to stay here for hours.

When the time was right, I stood up with everyone. Remembering my role, remembering my duties as Shepard's second-in-command, I made sure our team looked to me. Garrus, Joker, Wrex, Tali—they held back their strongest emotions, finding strength in what I gave to them. My certainty.

Remembering her leadership, I did my best to let Shepard speak through me:

"This isn't over," I told them, steadfast. "We're still a team. We always will be. Shepard's counting on us to do what's right. So when it's time to fight, when the Reapers get here, I want each and every one of you to come back. We have to end this war together, whatever it takes. Do you think you can do it?"

Garrus first: "Definitely. You can count on me."

Then Wrex: "Count me in, too."

And Tali: "Okay… I'm in."

And then Joker: "Yeah, for sure. I'm in this, too. We all are."

Sharing in one last moment, everyone took their turns giving me a hug. They'd all leave together soon, going back home to their other friends, their family—Garrus back to Palaven, Wrex back to Tuchanka, Tali back to the Flotilla, and Joker back to Tiptree. They knew that I would stay here on Earth, to start my N7 training soon, down in Brazil. And they knew enough of how much I loved Shepard, holding on to her even now; holding her through each of them, in our memories together, after all we'd been through, supporting our lone wolf of a commander as best as we could.

Our team knew that we were in this together to the very end.

Out of respect for the temporary end in front of us, Garrus mentioned, "After all that's happened…I think it'll be best if we archive the chat room. Doubt it's a good idea for us to keep talking there."

Wrex nodded, solemn.

Tali agreed, "Yes, we should… It hurts knowing that not everyone can respond to our messages."

Joker sighed with his acceptance. "Guess so, huh? We can stick to regular old emails, then. Just promise to stay in touch, guys. No excuses for falling off the grid."

We all promised to stay in touch—no matter what.

Just before everyone left, Tali looked to Shepard's unmarked grave one last time. She gave a salute with her left hand, as any quarian would. "Team Renegade Shepard, signing out…for now."

After I watched the team go, leaving together, I waited a while.

Waiting, to make sure they didn't come back.

Once we both knew they were gone for good, Miranda came over here to join me.

Standing here with Miranda by my side this time, I held her around her shoulders, supportive. I let myself smile as she leaned on me like this. I filled my heart with this swell of hope for the future. Whatever the future held for us, I knew that I wanted Shepard and Miranda there with me. I knew that I wanted the rest of the team with us, too. More immediate, and more emotional, I couldn't help holding on to my guardian angel like this, as unexpected as she was. As unexpected as all of this had been.

Forward, stronger: onto the next chapters, the next battles, the next times we'd treasure together.

Promising without words to stay strong, to stay patient—I gave Shepard my salute, too, through this unmarked grave. I saluted in the pride I had to serve under her. I saluted with the honor of knowing that she'd entrusted her legacy to me. I saluted in the endless joy in knowing her, and loving her as my one and only, and staying true to my faith and my devotion, because it was all worth it, for her.

This time would pass. This pain would pass.

And if she ever learned of my sins…I could only hope that she'd forgive me.

 _Death closes all: but something ere the end,_  
Some work of noble note, may yet be done,  
Not unbecoming men that strove with gods.


	23. Griffons Never Die

_"Griffons Never Die" (San d'Oria [S]) from Final Fantasy XI: Wings of the Goddess_

**XXIII.** Griffons Never Die

_(Ashley)_

Some optimism carried me through the next two years while I waited for Shepard to come back home.

After saying goodbye to Miranda, she went off to Lazarus Station to start on the project, while I started my N7 training. I packed up and got shipped down to Rio de Janeiro in Brazil, at the Interplanetary Combatives Academy. I arrived with dozens of other fresh recruits, heading to the Vila Militar as our new home base. Brutal training exercises, sometimes going for twenty hours a day: mostly leading small teams into combat over hostile terrain, all with next-to-no food or sleep. I consumed it all.

This was exactly what I needed to push myself. This helped me get through everything. I didn't have time to wallow in my misery or to worry about the things I couldn't control. I was able focus more on what was directly in front of me. Yeah, I had to miss out on some things, like watching the Super Bowl that year while it was live, or keeping up with Miranda and her progress as much as I would've liked. But I looked forward to returning to my room after a long, long day of training, and watching Miranda's daily vidlogs for me, with a layman's summary of what she and her team worked on and discovered.

I leaned on Miranda's confidence—and her own optimism—that the Lazarus Project was smooth-going.

I quickly qualified for N1, even while most of the other candidates had given up or failed. Then I was finally able to start my specific focus to train as a soldier, and with the specialization I'd picked out, moving up from N1 to N6 over time. I went for a more flexible version of that N7 Destroyer I'd played as in Shepard's game, without that slow, bulky T5-V battlesuit slowing me down. I wasn't able to have that missile launcher without the battlesuit. So I settled on stronger personal shields along with the rest:

More weapon damage and accuracy, higher rate of fire and better stability, and increased clip sizes for my guns, all during my own devastator mode that turned me into a mobile turret; an all-red enemy radar synced up to my vision HUD with these new implants, helping me see my environment better at night or in hazardous conditions; self-healing with my skin able to mend itself from most gunfire and flesh injuries pretty much on the spot; multi-frag grenades synced up with my omni-tool to launch at crowds, at bigger or heavily-armored enemies, or to stagger anyone in my way as a point-blank countermeasure for a quick escape; general expertise with assault rifles and sniper rifles; and moderate-to-good mobility with any armor I chose to wear, but at the cost of not being as much of a defensive tank as I'd imagined.

Overwhelming enemies with non-stop, sustained fire and grenades, and leaning on the increased survivability I had from my implants and personal shields, all as a tank on offense—that was the way to go instead.

Moving up the ladder from N1 to N6 wasn't as bad as I thought it would be. Especially as I got used to my new implants and abilities as the months went on. I earned a rep for _really_ pushing myself, and my instructors and team members respected me for it. They all thought that I was trying to push past what happened with Shepard. But I knew I chose to fight _with_ my emotions instead of fighting against them.

I prayed for her every day.

I fought for her every day, needing to be the perfect soldier for her once she was back.

Fighting like this, pushing myself: we had the rest of our courses off-world on Jupiter's moon, Europa, with live training exercises for a bunch of qualifications. I already had some of these things from before, like proficiency in zero-gravity combat, and close-quarters combatives. Nearly everything else was new for me, like first responder training and frontline trauma care, parachuting, combat driving, and even linguistics for more effective communication as a leader. I seriously couldn't stand the damned parachuting: jumping out of mobile aircrafts to land safely on the ground. It kind of helped to just think of it as another extension of Shepard's landing system, and maybe get over my fear of heights that way.

Right before each qualifying test for my next N-rank, I would always do the same thing. The same ritual.

I would spend the time I had fixating on Shepard's pictures, usually from the ones Tali had taken in secret during our mission before. Staring at her, at the glow of her skin and the sharpness of her piercing stare. Gazing at her, at the shimmer of her long hair, of those sunny shades of brown and streaks of blonde all mixed together, so unlike the intense, focused look on her gorgeous face.

What helped even more was immersing myself in my memories of her, before my tests and every day in general. _Every single day._ Constantly, if I could.

Using Shepard's cinnamon toothpaste to feel her lips, her breath, and her mouth over mine, all over again. Eating strawberries as often as possible. Drinking moscato whenever I had the freedom to relax with alcohol. Listening to her music: whatever fit my mood, but always from her gigantic library of creative, experimental, sexual and sensual songs. Playing her video games. Imagining her hands in my place whenever I dressed and undressed myself; whenever I put my armor on or took it back off again. Wearing her clothes to bed. Spraying the black chamomile of her aromatherapy scent over the sheets of my bed, and insulating myself under the covers, getting high off of the sensations alone. Jumping at the chance to hone my sniper rifle proficiency during training, if only to hear those loud booms from those powerful shots. Peeking in on the N7 Infiltrator candidates during their training, just to listen to their tactical cloaks activating and deactivating in those soothing sounds, giving me the best kind of chills.

I did all of these things to remember her with so much love—never able to forget.

This love of mine carried me through to my next N-rank, hard-fought, every time.

These memories of mine carried me through each day, subspace spiking high.

Eventually, I knew I'd get to face the final qualifying test. When the time arrived, our instructors would drop us off on an asteroid somewhere, with only basic equipment to protect ourselves. The last person who ran out of oxygen would go on to graduate at Arcturus Station, all for that special N7 Soldier rank.

I definitely planned on earning it.

In the meantime, whenever I got the chance, I took advantage of the time off our instructors gave us for shore leave here and there.

Usually, I would just go back home to San Diego and chill out in the apartment, indulging in my memories as fetishes as much as possible. Or I would meet up with Miranda at her apartment on Illium whenever she actually let herself have a break, just to catch up in-person instead of constantly relying on emails and vidlogs. Or I would go visit Sarah while she was at college, with us doing our best to enjoy our time together, all while avoiding anything and everything about the rest of the family. I was still distant with them. And they were still distant with me, as convinced as they were that I'd picked my grief over them. Too much stubbornness. Too much pride. It was always one thing after another. They refused to apologize to me; I refused to back down and beg for their forgiveness.

Even though it stung sometimes, I learned to find my peace with the situation.

If they couldn't respect what I had with Shepard, then they didn't respect _me_ at all.

Normally, I would've vented about the whole drama in the team's chat room. After all this time that had passed, I somehow still kept forgetting that the chat was archived. I could read the logs whenever I craved the nostalgia, and I could see that we were all still registered to the room. But those memories were all in the past now.

We had to rely on email and the occasional vid-mail instead.

As awkward as it was for me to talk to them, we had all made that promise to stay in touch.

I kept up with Tali the most. I knew she missed me. I knew she needed me, our friendship. So it was easy enough for her to keep me in the loop about what she was up to, and to take the initiative to ask me all about my training. Besides, I did like learning more about Tali's duties on the Flotilla now that she'd completed her Pilgrimage. She even had her big girl enviro-suit and a new name: Tali'Zorah vas Neema. Her father Rael'Zorah relied on her to help him out with his research on the geth. She seemed really driven to meet his high expectations of her. And not just because she was that excited about helping him.

I wasn't sure if Tali had ever opened up to her Dad about her sexuality. But if she had, then it might not have gone too well, considering how strict he was. Maybe that was why she didn't mention it to me. She didn't talk about falling for anyone new, either. So it was clear to see that her feelings for Shepard were here to stay, no matter what.

Wrex and I wrote back and forth to each other, too. He was the chief of Clan Urdnot back on Tuchanka, doing his best to keep his people together in the middle of their constant battles over turf and fertile female krogan. As strong as his ideas were to bring the clans together, Wrex would run into diplomatic problems when dealing with the female clans. I had to tell him sometimes that his plans weren't always the best, and that he needed to go with what the women wanted if they were going to make progress. Then he would find a better way to compromise with them, thanking me afterward. I loved that he still called me _clan chief,_ too.

Garrus was more of a wildcard. We had no problems emailing normally while he was on Palaven with his Dad and his sister. He even qualified for Spectre candidacy training. His father didn't approve, not trusting Spectres at all, but Garrus went ahead and tried the training out. He was inspired by my stories of what I was up to; inspired by our memories of Shepard as a Spectre. But then, at some point, he quit his training and disappeared. Vanished. Fell off the grid. I wasn't sure how or why. No one else could figure it out, either.

We only knew Garrus wasn't dead because he did try to email us after that. Just barely. _Rarely._ And his messages to us were always way too vague. He did seem driven and determined with whatever he was up to somewhere out there. After a while, we learned to respect his privacy, grateful for the once in a blue moon emails from him, letting us know that he was all right.

Kaidan had gotten through all of his procedures to replace his L2 biotic implants with L3s. He was almost done with his recovery process. When he'd learned about everything that had happened with the _Normandy,_ with Shepard, and the public story with _her_ —the shock from it all had nearly set him back. But he'd managed to pull through, and we were able to talk on a more regular basis now. We promised to meet up on the Citadel once he was finally discharged from the hospital and reinstated into active duty.

Joker had toughed it out through his guilt. It did help that I kept emailing him, promising that I didn't blame him for what happened. On top of that, the Alliance tried to discipline him over the whole mutiny thing before Ilos, way back when. Councilor Anderson managed to deal with that before it could get too bad. But it was enough to piss Joker off anyway. He seemed like he was done with the Alliance after all.

He wouldn't give any details, but he'd taken an indefinite leave of absence to go work someplace else. Someplace else that let him fly without all the rules and red tape. I had a feeling I knew what this other place was, especially since Joker was so excited about his newfound freedom. Obviously, I couldn't say anything about it. And I didn't want to risk asking Miranda in case I was wrong somehow. Still, it was good to know that Joker was doing much better these days. He and I were a lot closer as friends, too. I could tell that he relied on my forgiveness as an emotional push for him to keep going. And I was happy that we had this kind of friendship now.

Things between Miranda and me stayed on the same path, with the same vibe as when we'd spent the holidays together back at home. Our non-Lazarus Project emails to each other teetered on that edge of something more than friendship. It was mostly subtle, like how Miranda would always ask if I remembered to eat properly through my long days of training—and if I hadn't, then she made sure to recommend alternatives to keep me from collapsing out there. She worried about how strenuous my exercises were. She encouraged me to keep at it. She made vague, distant attempts at saying she missed me. She liked reminding me that Shepard would only have the best fighters in the galaxy on her team to stop the Collectors, and that I was still going to be at the top of the list of those dossiers. But more than the substance of what we wrote and talked about, it was always the tone. The tone of our words. The tone of our intentions in needing each other like this, so neurotic underneath the surface.

No matter how much we left unspoken, I loved that Miranda chose to treat me this way. Like she enjoyed caring for me, to the point of sheltering me, even from a distance. Like she couldn't help it. If I were anyone else, I was pretty sure I would think Miranda was overbearing, fussing over me all the time. But I needed her validation whenever I did as she said, meeting her expectations. I really, really liked the attention she gave me, and the way she _chose_ to give it to me, non-stop in between her work. With how naturally attentive Miranda was, she just didn't know how to leave me alone. She couldn't help herself. I couldn't resist her. Still attracted to her; still attached to her.

My constant sexual dreams about Shepard and Miranda with me said it all, too—so clear and so terrifying.

I made a point to see Miranda for her birthday in September, spending the time at home again. Even though I thought it was morbidly ironic that her birthday was on 9/11, I didn't mention it to her at all. But I did ask her about something else instead. I wanted her to tell me about how she knew Shepard, and when she'd first heard about her. I wanted Miranda to give me something, anything about how she felt. Because all I did know was that her heart was _at its maximum capacity._ And I knew what that meant. I only wanted more details. I wanted us to be able to talk about anything together.

While we were face-to-face like this on her birthday, Miranda couldn't bring herself to talk about it.

She promised to send me an email instead.

Waiting on that email, I went back to my training until the next round of shore leave.

This time, Kaidan was free to meet up with me on the Citadel. I made it to the station a few days before he did.

So while I waited for him, I got permission from the Council to enter the Citadel Archives. I spent my time there documenting Shepard's life and her achievements, including all the details I hadn't known about before I went digging through her omni-tool data. Like I'd had no idea she earned a Medal of Honor after the Battle at the Citadel… That had to be that private reward Anderson had mentioned to me.

The public knew that Shepard had been posthumously promoted to Commander. Officially _._ Better late than never. And I also got another promotion: First Lieutenant. For all my hard work so far in the N7 program. It was more of an afterthought for me, though. I cared more about Shepard's new rank.

Even to this day, the galaxy still talked about her. On the news. Over radio broadcasts. On just about TV network. Everywhere.

Being here in the Citadel Archives, surrounded by the truth in history, uncensored, and highly classified—I found my own comforts in this place. I liked setting up these interactive vidlogs: ranging from Shepard taking down Sovereign, to Shepard cloaking while sneaking through Peak 15 on Noveria, to the way Shepard concentrated for her unique power boost when handling her sniper rifle in general. I enjoyed getting to obsess over her like this, almost as if she was right in front of me again.

Speaking of obsessions: while I was in the middle of something at the archives, Miranda finally sent me that email. I stopped what I was doing to read it, feeling so pleased already. I had been curious about this for a long time…

_From: Miranda – A long time._

_Ashley,_

_Since you asked, I'm sending you this to answer your questions. About Shepard. About how I knew of her before. About how I feel—how I've always felt. It's quite ridiculous. I'm not proud of it. I hate that it affects me so much, clouding my judgment at times. I hope you're prepared to read all of this. It's long. Stupidly long._

_You and I have built up a substantial amount of trust. It hardly feels like it's been over a year since our first meeting. I surprise myself each time I realize just how much we rely on each other for emotional support. But I hesitated to send this to you anyway. You would of course have every reason to tell Shepard about these things once she returns. I don't want you to do that. There are too many reasons why I could never bring myself to be honest with her. So I would appreciate it if you kept this to yourself._

_If it isn't obvious by now: I've known about Shepard since she first had her start in the fashion industry. I'm four years older than her, as you are four years younger than her. She was thirteen years old when I was seventeen or eighteen, depending on the exact month._

_At the time, I had just recently escaped from my father when the Illusive Man took me in. I had started my new work with Cerberus, helping our biotic researchers study and develop new upgrades to sell to other retailers, which helped fund our organization's many operations. Plenty of those funds found their way to me. I was self-reliant for the first time—without my father's involvement—and I wanted to make the most of it. I was also young. It should have been a bad mix, but I did manage to stay responsible. Mostly by forcing myself to focus on my university studies._

_I'd always had an interest in fashion. My father used to give me the best clothes, the best cars, and the best anything that money could buy, all as a way to control me. So I was quite happy that I could pay for my own things instead. Magazine subscriptions, runway vids, industry gossip—I kept up with all of it._

_When Shepard first came onto the scene, it was a very big deal. Yes, she was only thirteen. But her pointed attitude, and that natural sharpness and intimidation of hers created…an illusion, so to speak. Everyone was obsessed with her. They actually liked that she wasn't an industry insider or a product of nepotism. Shepard was a maverick—and she certainly acted like it. She was fresh, she had an edge about her in her photographs and runway, she was from the streets, and above all, she was real. People couldn't get enough of her. I couldn't get enough of her. She completely consumed my attention._

_As gorgeous as she was, even back then, I knew better than to lust after her while she was underage. The age difference between us was more than awkward, as I'm sure you can imagine. Still, I kept up with her as Sol over the years, doing my best to keep my more romantic and sexual feelings away until the appropriate time._

_I focused on her work instead. I collected every vid, every magazine I possibly could. I studied her walk: the juxtaposition of the ease and command she strutted with. I memorized her face and her body, taking note when she seemed to have grown taller almost overnight at her age. I even took an interest in men's fashion, as she appeared more relaxed in sharper, more masculine clothing. Yet she had the confidence to pull off any look she wanted. She was naturally gifted…even though her heart wasn't in anything she did._

_When Shepard turned eighteen, and she enlisted with the Alliance, I didn't know what to do with myself. It was clear that the military was her way out. It was more than evident that it had been her plan all along to become a marine. I was devastated over her hiatus from the fashion world, yes, but there was also something else. When Shepard joined the military, she shattered my silly dreams of finding her someday and getting to know her. Even when she did make brief returns here and there over the next few years, my heartbreak still felt like an open wound. I couldn't get over her. I couldn't move on._

_Cerberus and the Alliance. Forever sworn enemies._

_I knew that Shepard was loyal to the Alliance for helping her find her purpose in life. I was loyal to Cerberus for the same reasons. We both owed our lives and livelihood to the organizations we worked for, sworn enemies and all. So I never had the freedom to pursue her. I've come to expect that Shepard's duties with Cerberus will be purely transactional. She won't approve of us, of the Illusive Man, of our reputation. She won't approve of anything about us outside of the mission._

_Shepard was always incredibly principled, even in her ruthlessness. It's what makes her so captivating. In fact, I'd say it's what I love most about her. What made me truly fall for her in the first place. The way she refused to tolerate intolerance. The strength with which she would fight against injustices, taking extreme actions to terrorize her enemies into submission or death. How she pushed herself to such excellence of character, as both a woman and an infiltrator, reaching well beyond where others would have failed. All through her sense of honor, and her exceptional willpower, so unyielding. Without a doubt, that is the legend of Commander Shepard to me._

_Time has passed. Situations have changed. Yet all I could do was follow Shepard's progress as she gained prestige in the military. I dedicated most of my work to following her, shadowing her. Despite how thorough she was at concealing her own communications and other activities, I did what I could to get around that. Aside from you, I'm the galaxy's prime expert on everything she did and believed in. And now I'm putting her back together with that same knowledge. Down to the very details of her DNA, of every fiber of her being—after she died. After her death shattered my heart all over again. That was why it took me a week to get in touch with you about the project. It's why I pressured you, rushed you into making a decision when we first spoke, since I knew I'd wasted too much time, and I was angry with myself about it. I had spent most of that week alone in my apartment, drunk out of my mind from all the bourbon I'd drowned myself in. White wine would've been too much._

_I also agonized over something else during that time. Something that had always bothered me about this situation. The truth is, no matter how perfect I might be, and no matter how many other people want me, it doesn't matter at all. My many assets would probably mean nothing to Shepard, to someone like her. You know how much she values 'real' women. Compared to you, to other people, I'm as artificial as it gets. There's nothing real about me. Nothing about my identity belongs to me. Only my mistakes._

_This has caused a lot of self-doubt for me over the years, making my existing insecurities much, much worse. It's all very much linked to my sexuality, how I was created with these specific genes of mine. The rest of the truth is far too dark and complicated for me to get into any time soon. I tried detailing this to you, but I ended up deleting what I wrote out of frustration. I'm too ashamed to accept this about myself. Regardless, I'll at least do my best to explain what I can:_

_I'm well-aware that I'm the product of a man's gaze, built for fulfilling men's wishes of what the perfect woman is supposed to be. It's why I lose my patience whenever I'm reminded of that sad reality. And yet I'm ironically not attracted to men. Only women. I'm not sure if my father 'chose' my sexual orientation when he made me. If he did, I don't like those implications at all, as complicated and confusing as they are. But Shepard strikes the perfect balance between the type of masculinity I am attracted to, and her own brand of femininity that's difficult to pin down or define. I'm enamored with the role she plays in relationships, how it's completely natural to her. I'm enchanted by how much respect she has for women in general, whether she's involved with them or not. She is the perfect woman in my eyes. She's one of a kind._

_What bothers me the most is that I have no idea how Shepard will react to me. I can assume she won't approve of Cerberus or the Illusive Man. Though I can't guess anything beyond that. You know how I always need to be prepared for things. When I'm not prepared, I don't know where to stand, what to think or how to behave. And even then, it isn't important. My personal feelings are irrelevant. I do want the two of you to be happy together. I have no ill-will or bad blood about this. I'll always have my fantasies and illusions, however. Like how it would be nice to see Shepard in a three-piece suit sometime—for special occasions. She enjoyed wearing these during her fashion years. I think she pulled them off quite well._

_Still, I know that I'll never be able to let go of her._

_I only want the best._

_Shepard is the absolute best. The pinnacle of human excellence. The pinnacle of everything. Knowing that no one can ever compare to her, I've come to terms with how things are…for the most part._

_I don't want to say the obvious about how I feel. And I can't even begin to describe how I react whenever I think about her having sex with me, let alone…looking at me with her intensity. Or listening to her speak in that direct manner of hers. Or simply being in her presence, so commanding and all-consuming. I fear that I would do anything for her if she asked me to. If she didn't ask. There's a twisted, masochistic element in how I view her, how I want her to want me. It's linked to how I was created, how perfect I'm supposed to be. After writing so many damned words in this email, those particular things are too much for me to write down. You can use your imagination to put the remaining pieces together._

_So there you have it. I've never told anyone about any of this. I trust you to keep this quiet. I'm sure there was a certain time when you could relate to me, to some extent. This is ultimately why my heart is at its maximum capacity. Though I'm nevertheless grateful for what you and I have. It's more than enough._

_It's far more than I can ever reasonably hope to have with her. Especially with so much riding on your relationship together. I've accepted that my role is to support you both as best as I can. Nothing more._

_-Miranda_

* * *

The next day, while I was on my way to meet Kaidan for lunch on the Presidium, I could barely focus on the walkways in front of me. I couldn't get Miranda's email out of my head. She definitely had the right idea that I was in her shoes at some point. But this was about way more than that.

My heart actually ached for her. I was in real pain over this, like I was heartbroken for her, in her place.

This on top of the non-stop dreams I had about Shepard and her, the three of us together…it got me thinking.

I did try to stop myself from wondering about this. I wanted to convince myself that it was too much.

Even still, I couldn't deny the power I had over Miranda, with her feelings. It was so fucked up. _It was…_ but I kept thinking about it anyway. Like I wanted to reward her as much as I wanted to control the situation. Because having this power, this control was a huge contrast to how things were before I met her. Before she'd helped me out. Before she'd pretty much taken me in and protected me from the consequences I should've faced for my actions. Before, when I spent so many weeks and months fighting against my own perceptions of myself, thinking that I wasn't good enough for the one I loved.

I'd gotten over those old insecurities of mine. I wasn't threatened by this other woman who wanted my girlfriend. I was only vaguely worried about Shepard falling for her instead and leaving me. I trusted Shepard more than anything—despite needing to lie to her about certain things once she was back home with me.

All of this stayed on my mind, at least in the background, while I spent time with Kaidan that afternoon. We met up at Apollo's Café, giving each other a big hug as soon as we could. Sitting at this table with him by the lake, smiling with him again, and just being in his calming company again was like a blast from the past. I kept getting these nostalgic reminders about the _Normandy._ I kept remembering those same old insecurities I'd left behind. I kept thinking back to the resentments that had weighed my relationship down, conjuring up those trust issues I'd had with Shepard, even when it was completely unfair to her.

Deep down, I knew I'd hated that I wasn't really in charge of things.

Shepard would _say_ that I was. But that wasn't actually true back then.

This time, it would be. From now on, I was the one calling the shots—without anyone in my way.

_Not even Miranda._

Kaidan had no idea about any of this. He needed to be oblivious while he drank his Canadian lager, while we talked, while we laughed together about old times. I _needed_ him to be oblivious, if only to keep my thoughts from going where they weren't supposed to go. He could never know. I could never tell him.

Pulling me back into the moment, Kaidan asked me, "So, Ash, what's next for you? After you graduate from the N7 program, that is. Think you'll be back at it out there?"

"Honestly, I don't know," I lied. "Graduation's still a ways off. Doesn't help that I picked such a specific specialization. Since it's kind of tailor-made for me, I might not finish in a year and a half like I thought. It could take me two years to get through the program instead."

"Then you won't be done until next January or February? Maybe we can both catch the Super Bowl live this time!"

"Yeah, here's hoping! I'm on track for like the first few days of February, give or take. If everything lines up, then I'll be good for the big game for sure! Aside from that, I'm trying not to think about the future _too much._ Not until I'm done with this. It's just pretty overwhelming, you know?"

Kaidan smiled. "Makes sense. Sounds like your training's pretty intense, after all. I bet it'll be worth it."

"What about you?" I wondered. "Think you'll get shipped out somewhere soon?"

"I'm getting my first assignment soon, actually," he replied. "Looks like I'll be out in the Terminus Systems, helping to improve Alliance relations with the colonists there. I've heard about the human abductions. Everyone's saying Cerberus has something to do with it. I wouldn't be surprised if they did. For as long as I can remember, they've always been up to no good. But _this_ is almost too much…"

Kaidan and I went quiet then. Thinking about the same things. About the opposite things.

He had this pissed off look on his face, worrying about the human colonists and the abductions. Of course he wanted to do right by them. Of course he wanted to help put a stop to everything going on out in the Terminus Systems. Even if it meant believing the fake reports that this was Cerberus' fault.

I knew that this was about the Collectors. Not Cerberus.

But I couldn't tell him that. Because then I would've had to share how I _knew,_ and why.

And if I didn't give any details, then he'd just think I was some Cerberus apologist for no good reason.

So I kept my mouth shut, eating the rest of my lunch instead.

Letting that topic pass us by, Kaidan then changed the subject: "By the way, Ash…remember back when I was in the hospital in San Diego, and you came to visit me? We had had that talk, cleared the air between us. There was one last thing I couldn't tell you, though. It was the main issue bothering me. It's what I spent the most time working through during therapy. What I felt most guilty about, I guess."

"You promised you'd tell me," I recalled. "Later, once you got better. Think you're up for sharing now?"

Kaidan stared down at his laced fingers, gripping them more as he set the scene, "So, back on Feros, when we lost Shepard that time: we were in front of that freighter, taking down all those creepers coming at us in waves. Tali was at the control panel, trying to get the crane to move. Liara was working on brute-forcing the crane itself with her biotics. I was on our right flank with Wrex, while you were with Garrus on the left, keeping Tali and Liara safe in the middle. And that was when my headache got really bad. The Thorian's mind-control was just awful. It made me turn my gun on Tali at the time, but…"

I remembered it all perfectly clear. "But what…?"

"The Thorian— _that thing_ wasn't actually telling me to shoot her. Not Tali. _Not her._ I only did it to stop the pain, thinking that was my only way to resist. I guess it kind of was, until you came over and knocked me out cold. I was hoping someone would stop me. I'm glad it was you, Ash."

"Kaidan, what do you mean?" I worried. "What are you saying? If that thing wasn't telling you to shoot Tali, then what did it want you to do?"

"I don't know why…but the Thorian wanted me to shoot _you_ instead. It wanted you out of the way for some reason. It wanted you dead. Like killing you would somehow stop Shepard from resisting its control. I couldn't tell you how that might've been possible. Do you know anything about it?"

Kaidan's obliviousness.

How clueless he was.

The way he looked at me in so much concern while he watched my eyes tear up like this.

_He didn't know._

Having this extra confirmation that I was the one…it took me back. Brought me back to those days I used to spend in agony. Back to those months, those _years_ I'd spent pining after Shepard for what felt like no reason, wondering why the hell I was stuck on her. Wondering why I could never let her go. Wondering why I couldn't stop _believing in us,_ like it was some sure thing—and how it wouldn't leave me alone. Wondering why the hell my emotions for her were so damn powerful, even when they seemed so pointless, so meaningless, and so insignificant.

Kaidan just stood at my side, holding me without a word. So caring and supportive. Without judging me.

All this time, he'd had the single answer to my questions, long before I'd ever talked to Miranda or the Illusive Man. Those months Kaidan and I had spent without really speaking to each other on the _Normandy_ —I'd only shot myself in the foot by holding that stupid grudge, since he was the one who could've helped me so much sooner. He knew…without knowing much of anything. He knew enough to let it eat away at him instead. He kept it all to himself, only letting himself smile whenever I was around, since he didn't want me to worry about him.

Kaidan knew.

Miranda knew.

Shepard—she'd had a feeling. Enough to _know._ Enough to do what she needed to do.

And I'd kept believing in us, and praying for her anyway, no matter how pointless it all may have been.

Even though I'd had no idea that any of this was possible, that hadn't stopped me. I had still kept going.

That truth, that reinforcement helped me push myself even harder throughout the rest of my N7 training. I made N6 by the summer. So I had plenty of time to prepare for my final assignment on that asteroid around the beginning of the next year, once the two years had finally passed. And then a few weeks after that, I'd have my graduation to look forward to.

By then, Shepard should have been back.

Without my N7 training, this time wouldn't have flown by as fast as it had. As much as my stomach fluttered over the thought of so many unknowns—if Shepard would be different somehow, if her feelings for me would all still be there—I was just as excited and driven to see what the future had in store for us. And if I had to chase after her all over again, then I was prepared to do it. If I had to fight with her all day every day to convince her that I was still the one, then I would fucking do it. Anything to have Shepard in front of me again. Anything to be able to see her every day again. Anything to keep pushing myself in this way, too, reminding her that I was way too crazy about us to ever let her go.

Miranda had promised me that everything with the Lazarus Project was on-schedule. They were apparently way over-budget, but the Illusive Man was determined to keep throwing resources at them. So I didn't have to worry about any delays.

A few days before Miranda's next birthday in September, I made it back home to the apartment. We had plans for her to take one last vacation here with me—before she went back to Lazarus Station for the final push over the fall and winter. We'd agreed to go ahead and skip spending the winter holidays together so she could focus on finishing everything. While she was busy with that, I would finally go visit Dad's grave after avoiding him all this time.

I owed him a serious explanation for what my deal was.

For now, while I was at home before her, Miranda and I were on a QEC call, going over the itinerary and our plans for her birthday. There was really no surprising her. She had to _know_ what we were doing, otherwise she wouldn't know how to make the most of her time off. She needed to know what to pack, too. _"Will I be under or overdressed for where we're going?"_ seemed to be Miranda's main concern with these things. So I promised to take her shopping for biotic and tech upgrades. I thought it was kind of cute that she was so obsessed with details like this. And I really didn't mind, since she usually did relax with me soon enough, once she got settled in.

Once we finished discussing all of that, Miranda changed the subject to Shepard's restoration.

I saw it in her body language then: the way she closed herself back off, trying to keep her cool.

Miranda usually did this whenever we talked face-to-face about Shepard, about anything to do with her. Over email, or in her daily vidlogs to me, she was perfectly fine. Perfectly normal. But when she actually had to look at me across this space, across the QEC bringing us closer through the distance between us, she broke way, way off from me, back to her professionalism.

So then I had to prompt her: "Miranda? Is something wrong again?"

"'Again'?" she almost snapped. "What's _that_ supposed to mean?"

Patient, I reminded her, "You're acting kind of cold, that's what."

Waking up, Miranda had switched without realizing. "Oh…I suppose I was," she accepted. Sighing, she accepted this, too: "Then again, those habits of mine are related to what I wanted to tell you. It's about Shepard, of course. _Her_ defense mechanisms."

"Okay, what about them?"

"Well, the thing is…they seem to be gone."

"Gone?" I echoed. "What you mean, _they're gone?_ You mean her defenses aren't going to work anymore once she wakes up? Is that it?"

"Yes, that's precisely it," confirmed Miranda. "I'm not able to pinpoint how or why, but the source of those habits of hers have eroded away. What this means is, Shepard won't be able to stop herself from feeling the entire spectrum of her emotions. She will feel things much more strongly than before, in a more extreme way. Much like how a burn patient is far more sensitive to the touch than the average person, it looks like she will be the same. I'll need to keep monitoring her to find out if this is only temporary, or if it will in fact inform how things will be for her from now on."

Stressed over those possibilities, I needed to know, "Are you saying that any little thing will be able to set her off? Like she'll start yelling at us? Do we have to walk on eggshells around her or something?"

"Not necessarily. Her logic should continue to keep her sane and rational. Shepard will likely experience the same internal reactions to everything, just as before. She was always quite the emotional person…even if she didn't like it. The point is that she worked very hard to hide this from you, from everyone else. It's only a matter of how she expresses herself going forward. Where she normally would have been restrained or noncommittal before, she may instead choose to act differently. I'm not sure that she'll be completely the same as you remember her. So you need to be prepared for that."

"I understand… Is this what you were worried about before? You know, about keeping Liara around her?"

Miranda nodded in a somber sort of remembrance. "It was foolish of me to hope the three of you could get along that way," she admitted. "The fact of the matter is, Liara opened Shepard to the powers you gave her. In doing this, she accelerated Shepard's emotional growth in ways that should have happened more gradually over time. When you suddenly take the source of that growth away, things are bound to get scrambled and confused. Then again, it's not even about taking it _away._ Things simply aren't the same now that the two of them are separated in this way."

I didn't want to know the answer to this—"So, is Liara…still _there?"_

"Frustratingly enough, I don't know," responded Miranda, scowling as much. "It's unclear. This falls into the realm of the unconscious, of the intangible. Anything within Shepard's consciousness is easy enough for me to access. But this? It's the exact opposite. Trying to find any definite answers is next to impossible."

That was better than the alternative…

"Then what do you think the case is?" I asked instead. "What's your feeling on this?"

"You mean my intuition?"

"Yeah. I mean, you have to have _some_ idea. Don't you?"

Miranda tried to play it cool again: "My professional opinion is that it's too dangerous to speculate."

I rolled my eyes.

She quickly caught herself, deflating.

Miranda let herself say, "Fine, Ashley… _My feeling_ is that this will be problematic no matter what the case is. Either Liara isn't there, and Shepard is unstable in her absence—or Liara _is_ there, and Shepard won't be able to truly let her go. Whatever the truth actually is, this was my worst fear. This calls for the other solution the Illusive Man tasked me with finding. Without all the answers, I can't know how to proceed. If I make one wrong calculation, then Shepard will likely suffer. This is why I'm so irritated."

"No, I totally get it," I sympathized. "Let's try to figure this out, then. How'd you find out this much in the first place?"

"One of my most brilliant colleagues developed a way for me to navigate Shepard's consciousness and her memories, giving me complete visual access to her mind. Still, her unconscious self and our collective unconscious are inaccessible this way. I'm not able to look over that fence, so to speak."

"So, when you're in her consciousness, do you see any kind of way for me to take Liara's place?"

"Yes, you are already there," said Miranda. "There is a clear path for you to continue on as Shepard's main priority. It leads out past the boundary, but it's a viable solution."

I smiled, relieved. "Then why don't I just do that instead? I'll take Liara's place. We'll have some time before the Reapers get here. I'm obviously going to be with Shepard while we take down the Collectors. We'll keep our relationship going, get to know each other better. All of that. Won't it be enough?"

Miranda reminded me, "Ashley, you're only human… I'm afraid there isn't anything you could do that might come anywhere near the asari bonding process. Liara was so effective because she was constantly present in Shepard's mind while they were both alive, never-ending. Even when the two of them didn't speak, their bond found a way to persevere. It was an entirely unconscious thing—otherwise I'd have plenty of pointers to give you. I'm not saying you _can't_ replicate this. I'm only pointing out that it wouldn't be the same."

"This is the best option, though," I justified. "Either I do this, or Shepard never lets Liara go. If she doesn't let go, then her immunity fails in the end. Right?"

"Correct."

"Then I'll do it!"

"All right, then," she allowed, still sounding uneasy.

"Miranda, come on," I griped. "What is it? Why do you sound like that? Isn't this the solution?"

Cautious, she gave the worst hypothetical: "If you do this, what will happen if you and Shepard break up somehow? Your relationship is strong. And it will be stronger once Shepard has confirmation that you were the one all along. But I'm frankly uncomfortable risking everything on this single connection. Considering how prone the two of you are to fighting and arguing, I don't like this. I don't like it at all."

I had to concede, "Fine, I get your point… We kind of have a rocky relationship. Sometimes."

If that was the case, then maybe…

"I know what you're thinking," warned Miranda. "If you try to censor yourself—or hold back in any way—you already know how Shepard will react. That will only turn into a self-fulfilling prophecy."

"Oh my God, okay!" I growled out. "Are there _any_ other answers here? Anything we can work with?"

"I honestly don't know. The only solution left is to take a _wait and see_ approach. It's frustrating that I can't think of anything else."

"If _wait and see_ is all we have, then it's something," I pointed out. "I know you want to keep everything under control. But Shepard's her own person. Why can't we give her a chance to figure this out first? If we just hand her the solutions, I can pretty much guarantee you she won't like it. And if I see her struggling, then I'll do whatever I can to help. You _know_ I will."

Miranda gave in, "Yes, that's true… You're right, Ashley. I should've asked you sooner instead of trying to figure it all out on my own."

I smiled at her. "It's okay to not have all the answers, you know. That's what I'm here for!"

"That you are," she allowed. "I wish I could be more comfortable with this approach. Like you are. Old habits, I suppose."

"Is that all, though? Seems like you still have something on your mind. If you want to talk about it, I'm all ears."

"Not now, actually," she evaded, _sounding_ convincing enough. "I might run it by you later instead. Was there anything else you wanted to talk about? Anything at all?"

As convincing as she sounded, though, I didn't buy her act.

I also knew this was one of those times when Miranda needed to keep her distance. There wasn't much I could do when she was in this mood, so I decided to leave it alone.

Aside from that, I did worry about Shepard being _different…_ I kind of expected she wouldn't be the same now that Liara was gone. But maybe I wasn't prepared for just how drastic the change might be. So I needed to talk with Miranda about this some more. I needed a better picture of what I was up against. I had to know what to expect. Even if it was impossible to know all the details beforehand.

"It can wait until you're here," I claimed. "Don't let me keep you any longer. Thanks, though."

"All right, then," replied Miranda, smiling a little. "If you change your mind, you can always let me know. For now, I should get back to it. You'll have my vidlog later on, as promised. I'll see you soon."

I beamed at her. "Definitely! See you soon."

After that, I pushed on, pushing forward through these final months of the year, of this second year without Shepard. This second birthday in October without her here. This second holiday season without her… The time didn't go by as quickly as I wanted it to. Because I was near the end—close to my N7 qualifying test—I didn't have nearly as much to distract me anymore. Not like before. Not like when I had more ranks to progress through, more hurdles to cross over.

There was only so much my instructors could do to help prepare me for my test.

Somehow they got it in their heads that I'd be better off with more downtime. More time to rest.

More time to think.

More time to miss Shepard in this raw, all-consuming way—pulling me down and into something I'd spent the last two years avoiding, running away from. Whenever I was about to fall into this, I'd have another full day of training to focus on. Whenever I was about to slip into this, I'd look to Miranda as an example, reminding myself that she forced herself to keep going, and so I had to do the same. Whenever I was about to sink into this damned despair, I'd remember Tali and Wrex and Joker and Garrus, and Kaidan, too. I'd remember my team, telling myself that they'd found a way to move on. Even with this cloud of Shepard's absence hanging over our emails to each other after all this time.

But, if I was really honest with myself…I was about to run out of steam.

It was a miracle I'd even lasted this long in the first place.

There was only so much I could do to avoid reality. Telling myself that Shepard was just deployed. Clinging to Miranda's reports to me about Shepard's progress. Living this double-life as a liar: the perfect traitor to almost everyone around me.

So by the time the winter holidays rolled around, visiting my Dad's grave made the most sense.

I sat here alone on this grass, in this graveyard. Staring at his headstone. Remembering that he'd never made it past Serviceman Third Class; feeling pissed off all over again about how unfair it was.

Dad hadn't complained about it. Not once. At least not to me. Whenever he was around, I could always count on seeing that big smile on his face, lighting up his bright blue eyes. So optimistic. Calling me his baby girl—before I enlisted. Then believing in me as a soldier, carrying on the family legacy. He cared about my happiness more than letting his sorrows show. He did his best to put me first…as much as possible. Even if it meant lying about his actual feelings. Keeping up that illusion of the perfect father, the perfect man was his obsession back then. I did believe it for a while.

Until I saw the same habits, the same illusions reflected in the one I loved.

"Hey, Dad. It's been a while, huh?" I spoke, hoping he could hear me. "That's my bad. I guess I was…kind of avoiding you for the longest. Avoiding how I felt. Avoiding the obvious. Maybe it's because I can't read your favorite poem to you anymore. Because I just…can't relate to it. I've moved on. And that scares me. It scares me a lot." Scaring me more, this ache in my chest was about to win. About to hollow me out. But I wouldn't let it. I couldn't. "But, back to the reasons why I avoided you. You know why. You know what I did. You know that I basically sold my soul to the devil. At least, I _used_ to think Cerberus was the devil. Turns out it was me all along. Holding all that hatred in my heart, and then letting it out the way I did that night… To this day, I still don't really recognize myself.

"The last time I was here, I told you about Commander Shepard. I was so pathetic, crying to you about how much I loved her, when I didn't even know her back then. I wish I'd known what I was in for. I wish I had some sign, or a hint about how much she'd change me after I met her. Or not even that. It's more like I had this in me all along, and she's the one who helped bring it out. Her influence over me is way too strong. But that's the whole point, isn't it? The whole point—why I can't look away from her. Why I could never move on from her. Why I was desperate enough to compromise myself. Why I risked so much the way I did, all to have her come back home to me again.

"I wish I got to tell you about her while you were still alive. I wish I'd been brave enough to come out to you, too. Not knowing if you approve of her—it tears me up sometimes. Like now. _Especially_ now. I want to know that I'm doing right by you, Dad. Even if I _am_ a traitor. I need to make sure I'm making the right choices from here on out. Sacrificing everything for her like this: sure, it's romantic, and I wouldn't change a thing. I just worry why I'm completely sure about this, without your approval. I don't understand why I'm fine about everything, even while I'm lost without her. While I'm lost without you, too. While I'm trying not to be.

"Since I'm here, and I didn't bring your poem, I should give you some answers. Get you caught up on what I did, and why. The one time I finally did get to tell someone my side of the story, she believed me. Having her support keeps me going like this. But I want _you_ to know. I want you to see what's in my heart. I hope you can understand me. And I need you to forgive me for all I've done. Because I can't take any of it back. I can only move forward from here.

"You know I wouldn't have made my choices unless Shepard was absolutely worth it. I wouldn't dare to love her this strongly unless I knew she was the one. I wouldn't have dedicated my life and my service to her unless _I knew…_ She's my whole universe, Dad. You can trust her to take care of me once she's back. Whenever she is, and wherever you are, I'd love if she could have your blessing. Shepard's the one I want to marry someday. She's the one I want _everything_ with. She's the only one… So hear me out. Please."


	24. Sol Redux

_"Recollection" from Final Fantasy XI / "Freedom's Progress" from Mass Effect 2_

**XXIV.** Sol Redux

_(Shepard)_

_Complete darkness, all-encompassing._

_Ink black of a starless sky, all around me, everywhere._

_Everything I stood on had darkened to this nothingness, filled with so much spirit._

_Able to breathe again, able to perceive again, I looked down at myself. Somehow able to see my own form without actual light around me, I flexed and relaxed my gloved hands, finding that they obeyed me. No longer frozen in that coma I was vaguely aware of, I could finally move as normal again. Black of my stealth suit and my combat boots; the red and white of my N7 logo over my chest: I remembered myself, remembering my paths. I remembered who I was and how I got here, all from this silent safety on me._

_Just to make sure, I reached up to my face. Actual skin again. Actual movement over my eyes when I blinked. Slicked back and strict as I wanted, someone had tied my hair into this tail, gathered right at the center-back of my head, symmetrical and stern. Healthy in this sheen of mine, that someone had gone out of their way to take care of my hair, my skin—everything. Brand new._

_Somewhere, far away, I felt the familiar emotions of the ones who'd lost me._

_Somewhere closer, I felt the unfamiliar feelings from the one who'd never had me at all, but who'd poured everything they had into bringing me back._

_Somewhere in between nothing and everything, I stayed here for a little bit longer, waiting._

_Through this darkness, I saw a light forming in front of me. From something. Someone._

_Someone I recognized:_

_Tall form of a woman's power, with her all-black outfit sharpened in elegance. Blue of her skin visible from her arms, making her identity obvious enough from this view. She wouldn't show me her face._

_Matriarch Benezia had her back to me._

_Stiffened in disapproval, Liara's mother scorned me for my choices._

_I remembered Benezia's riddling. I remembered her games, her lies. I remembered Saren's influence over her: how he'd wanted her to fool me, to fool us all. As her mother, of course Benezia had wanted me to pick Liara as my one and only. As her mother, of course Benezia had wanted me to stay true to her daughter, not knowing or not caring about what I needed. And as her mother, of course Benezia had wanted someone like me to be with her daughter forever: giving Liara the glory that I had already saved for another._

_But it was too late for any of that now._

_Benezia stepped forward, into the background, remaining there as a fixture. Diluted, distant._

_As she dimmed, someone else stepped toward me from that same background, into the fore, closer._

_Someone I had only seen in pictures from time to time._

_The same height as me, this man beamed in the light with such kindness. Blue of his Alliance uniform pressed and ironed with care, insignias and piping marking him as Serviceman Third Class, and the brighter blue of his eyes: I recognized him. He stopped a few paces before me. Taking in my recognition, my recollection, he gave me a big smile, glad that I knew who he was. The shape of his warmth, his optimism reached far into me, pulling out my memories from his daughter, from the resemblance between them in spirit and in strength._

_In that likeness, I felt another type of warmth over my eyes, stinging._

_Stinging in so much love and pain over everything that had happened. Not necessarily from what had been out of my control. I had chosen to save Ashley over myself. I had died for her, and I would have done it again without question, without hesitation. But really, what made me tear up this much, tearing at my chest in emotion…was that she hadn't trusted me. Ashley didn't trust me with the truth. She hadn't told me those truths I'd had to find out on my own, becoming as a demon to see all, and to help her in the way I had done. Because I remembered helping her. I remembered my hellish, demonic anger in Liara's hotel room. As some force acting beyond my own control, I remembered paralyzing Liara in fear so that Ashley could take her shot and survive._

_Not by my own will._

_Raw emotion. No real decision-making. No choice and not on purpose. Just pure instinct._

_Even still, after everything I had done for Ashley, and in the face of all that I would do for her in the future…_

_The way I loved her felt insignificant next to this._

_Almost meaningless, since she would never fully trust me on her own._

_Her father sensed enough of my thoughts, my feelings. Smiling more in that resemblance, he gave me a proud salute, with his eyes betraying something else. Something more painful. Wordless, he entrusted me with this single, important duty. Sentimental in his meaning, I felt the absolute blessing there in his gesture, but not for the obvious. The pain in his eyes he conveyed, I sensed his worries. His concerns over his daughter, over how much pain she was in. Something far beyond what I could know in this moment._

_Ashley's father wanted me to take care of this. To protect her in any way I could._

_To take care of her—in whatever way she needed. Even if that meaning was obscured to me now._

_Accepting his meaning, accepting this renewed responsibility, I returned his salute, sharp with practice._

_He then nodded, and took a few steps back. Waiting there, respectful._

_One last person who had been waiting within this darkness, this spirit: their figure approached me. Hooded, masked. Someone wearing a suit. An enviro-suit, styled like a quarian's. Sheer kindness radiated from this person, from her face beneath the mask of her helmet. Violet in color reached my perception as she walked nearer, finding me here. Only wearing this suit for my own understanding, as a shortcut; not what she actually would have had on in death._

_Taller than any quarian woman I knew, I wasn't familiar with whoever this was. Not directly._

_I couldn't know how, but she felt like someone's mother._

_And once she held both of my hands in hers, I suddenly knew._

_More of that kindness shined from behind her mask. Such familiar kindness. The same as Tali's. The one that she had inherited from her mother, standing here with me now. Her mother, holding my hands like this, tighter, three of her fingers on both hands over mine. Unable to speak a word directly to me, she seemed to make a request anyway. Asking me to take care of her daughter, too. Not just trusting me with the task. Actively needing me to do this. Pleading without words for me to protect her._

_Tali's mother even looked over her shoulder—at Ashley's father—and then back to me._

_Holding my hands tighter, tighter still: she beseeched me to keep her daughter safe, no matter what._

_Seeing my own stern surprise reflected over her helmet, I looked past that, through to her. Those brights of her eyes. Her kindness reaching past my exterior._

_I gripped her hands, acknowledging all. Not fully understanding all of this, I nodded anyway. Giving her my promise._

_Tali's mother smiled at me anyway. Knowing that I didn't fully get this, she accepted my honor. She stayed here with me as I remembered her daughter, and Ashley—and these unknown emotions surrounding me, all from another person I couldn't see. That someone who'd brought me back like this. That someone who'd given me far more than life itself. More than I could see right now, brimming beneath the surface of my perception. Such a powerful connection between us had shaped and formed throughout all this time, shaping such a strength in me, formative. One that helped me awaken at last._

_Remembering this connection, and remembering everyone else, too—my team as the light of my life—their light flooded all, returning me:_

* * *

Blurred sight, in and out of focus.

Staring upward somewhere. Silver of a ceiling. Lying down on my back on some kind of bed. Medical equipment everywhere.

Bright lights, my eyes adjusted.

Some familiarity: I felt the fabric of my stealth suit over me, keeping me warm in this sterile place.

More familiarity from my recent memories: I saw someone walk closer, gazing down at me in a gentleness and genuine care…and with true love. At first sight, I breathed harder, faster; my heart swollen and palpitating from her sincerity, her beauty. Finding this peace and stability she gave me. All as a collection that I'd never known in my earliest years. Never had the chance to know, or to grow attached to. Stronger attachments from finally seeing her face, the contradiction of her eyes, of that steel blue heating, warming for me and only me. Dark of her hair and fair of her skin, I recognized so many possibilities there in her, but I didn't reach out.

She had her hand over mine closest to hers, keeping me in place as gently as she regarded me.

Vague distance of her accented voice: _"Take it easy for now, Commander. You're going to be just fine."_

Vagueness, so vague.

I drifted off again with the comfort of her promise, patient and pure.

However much time passed between then and now, I returned to some other place in sleep.

Waking without opening my eyes, I felt a fuller awakening this time, so fulfilling. Filling my mind with clarity, that woman's voice sounded closer, much closer. Clearer. More direct:

_"Commander, can you hear me? Try to use your voice to speak. You don't need to open your eyes yet."_

I responded, _"I can hear you."_

_"Perfect. For now, we're going to test your memory recall, your recollection. I'll ask you a few questions. I'd like you to answer as best as you can. All right?"_

_"Understood."_

_"I'll need you to confirm your background, your psychological profile, and your combat specialization."_

_"Earthborn,"_ I said. _"Ruthless. Infiltrator: tactical cloak, sniper rifle and pistol proficiencies, Icarus Landing System, emergency temperature management, starvation and exhaustion suspensions."_

_"Very good. Your rank in the Alliance is no longer the same. You were posthumously promoted from Lieutenant-Commander to Commander. Do you feel that this is logical—that it makes sense for you?"_

_"It does make sense. Being a commander is part of my identity."_

_"Indeed it is. Next, can you confirm the full name of your partner and love interest?"_

_"Ashley Madeline Williams. Lieutenant Williams."_

_"Excellent. On to your service history. Do you remember what happened on Feros, including with the colonists there on Zhu's Hope?"_

_"My team killed all of the colonists. I took down the Thorian on my own. I spared Shiala after talking with her."_

_"And what about on Noveria? Do you recall anything with Matriarch Benezia, how you defeated her?"_

_"I told Tali to move the tank that was in my way, freeing the rachni queen inside. I assassinated Benezia with my sniper rifle."_

_"Did anyone survive on Virmire who could have died during the mission?"_

Ashley…

 _"Wrex,"_ I answered instead. _"He survived my encounter with him. And I survived, too."_

_"Finally, during the Battle at the Citadel, what became of the Council? What happened after that?"_

_"I ordered Ashley as my second-in-command to save Anderson and the Council on the Destiny Ascension. She and the team got it done. I took down Sovereign's shields, and then the Council fleets finished it off. I chose Anderson over Udina as the first human councilor. He awarded me with a Medal of Honor that I never told anyone about, on purpose. And then I made sure that Ashley got her promotion to Second Lieutenant, a Gold Star Commendation, and an N7 recommendation, as she deserved."_

_"Your memory appears to be quite excellent, Commander. Go ahead and open your eyes now."_

Bright lights again, with my eyes adjusting to them sooner this time.

Silver of the ceiling, of the walls, of the medical equipment nearby and off to the side.

Such a clean, scentless smell everywhere, as if any actual scent would've been frowned upon.

Lying down over this bed, I still felt protected by my stealth suit. Shifting my head to look around, I didn't feel the tied knot of my hair behind me. I instead saw the shimmer of my hair spilled down under me, fanning out there, still healthy and well taken care of by someone else, by someone who knew my routine down to the letter. No split ends, either. No lifeless strands. No signs of loss or death anywhere.

So many repeats of a familiar logo along the rest of the walls, over the sterile gleam of the ground. That sharp C in the middle, flanked by two other symbols on either side.

Looking off to my left side: more medical equipment that looked like it had been hooked up to me.

Off to my right: that familiar woman leaning against a table there, watching me with her arms folded.

Familiar only from this place, from my vague awareness of learning her, knowing her, and feeling her.

Familiar from all the times I'd perceived her in my consciousness, reconstructing everything there.

Actually seeing her in-person like this was mostly new for me.

Feeling that it was safe enough, I sat up over this bed. I settled my legs off to the side, on the side facing this person here with me. The only person here with me. At least in this room. I frowned when I saw that same logo from the walls over her uniform, etched there as orange and white over her chest, over the midnight blue. Shining skintight leather lined with more orange, and plenty of black everywhere else, down to her thickened heels she had crossed over the other, supporting herself that way.

Relaxed in her guardedness with her arms folded around her waist like that, I saw the rest of her.

The same language, I found in her face, in her eyes on me that should have looked so cold.

I felt myself scowling at her without realizing it.

Knowing, her lips quirked up in a self-critical grin.

"It's good to see you awake, Commander," she said to me. "How are you feeling?"

Directness automatic: "I'm fine. Where am I? This doesn't look like an Alliance facility."

"That's because it isn't. We reconstructed you after you died two years ago. This is one of our facilities."

_Two years…_

I glanced at the logo over her chest.

"Cerberus," I deduced. "Is that who you're with? You're the ones who brought me back. And I'm guessing you were in charge. It was _you_ putting everything back together in my head like that."

"Yes, Commander. That's exactly right."

I did feel like myself. Nothing off, or different. Nothing that I could notice on my own.

Two years, though. Ashley had to be twenty-seven years old by now. Two birthdays of hers I'd missed.

Two birthdays, two years, and so much more I'd never be able to get back.

Unless…she had moved on by now. I couldn't know. Then again, I couldn't blame her if she had.

This familiar stranger explained, "Needless to say, Commander, the galaxy still needs you. The Reapers aren't here yet. But it's only a matter of time until they arrive. There's another, more immediate danger posing a threat to humanity. We brought you back to end that threat before the Reapers return. You'll have a team of the best fighters and specialists available. We need your skills and your leadership to pull this victory off."

I only nodded in response.

Whatever Cerberus stood for, I felt that dissipating off into the distance, at least for this.

This person had made herself _very_ familiar to me. She wouldn't have done it for no good reason.

"Here," she offered, reaching for something on the table behind her. "One of your former teammates, Dr. Liara T'Soni, thought you would like to have this. It was her idea. We made sure the Alliance manufactured it for you. Custom-made." She brought the gift from Liara over to me: "This is an M-98 Widow sniper rifle. Anti-material. I've already tested it to make sure it will fit you. I think you'll find it to your liking."

Accepting the Widow in my hands, I looked it over. Such a long, lean, powerful-looking single shot sniper rifle of a light, light brown color. Modified for raw force and defense penetration, as I wanted. With my added concentration, I could likely shoot through cover and even plenty of walls.

Gripping the gun in remembrance, I almost hated how much I loved this thing at first sight.

I could let myself have this one last thing of Liara, though. She used to know me well enough like this.

I set the gun aside for now.

I looked at this person looking back at me.

I didn't like that she was on her feet, standing up in front of me while I still sat down over the bed.

Standing taller than her in her heels, I moved the balance between us to where I wanted it. And even though she was only about an inch shorter than me, it was enough. This was more than enough to remind her of who and what I was. Plenty enough to make her seem so much shorter while she stared down, elsewhere. Focused on the N7 logo over my chest. Focused on the length of my hair falling down on the other side, a little longer than I was used to. Focused on controlling her own breaths as she let out a single, shuddering exhale, and then no more.

I said to her, "Tell me who you are. I need a name."

She focused on my N7 logo again, for strength and composure. "My name is Miranda Lawson. I'm one of Cerberus' most trusted officers and tactical operators. It's safe to say I know your name, who you are and what you stand for. I spent the past two years applying everything I knew about you. And then learning more. Far more. So you don't need to think of me as a stranger."

I offered her my hand.

Miranda stared up at me, keeping herself together. But the longer she made me wait, the more obvious her thoughts became, transposed through her eyes to mine. At some point, though, she realized what this probably looked like, and made herself react as a normal person would have.

When she finally shook my hand, with only the material from her gloves and mine in our way, I felt the source of her dilemma. I felt the current surging from her touch to mine. I felt all that she wouldn't say.

She knew what I knew.

Playing it off, Miranda leaned on her professionalism. "We should go, Commander. My boss wants to speak with you. He'll tell you all about the current mission. When you're done, I'll brief you on a few other details afterward."

I glanced down at my new sniper rifle on the bed.

I wanted to fold it up, to holster it over my back—to get my first feel for it like this out of combat.

My hair was in the way. It was long enough for me to tie it up into my usual tight, taut tail with just the length alone. No ties, no accessories.

Right as I was about to reach up, clicks from Miranda's heels sounded as she walked around behind me.

She was about to touch my hair, reaching higher—but then she stopped herself, privately reprimanding.

"Old habits by now," she apologized. "I should know better about asking first. Do you mind if…?"

"Go ahead," I allowed, satisfied enough by her mindfulness.

The way Miranda held, and maneuvered, and tied, and twisted my hair in consideration, with so much care, it was more than obvious she'd had plenty of practice with this. Not rushing anything, not taking too long; not pulling too tightly or not tight enough; and not letting her hands linger anywhere, as gentle and efficient as she was all at once, even though I knew she _wanted_ to linger.

When she was done, she smoothed her hand over my tail, once, as it fell down my spine, and no more.

Miranda then watched me holster my Widow over my back, before leading me out of this room.

I walked beside her as she brought me down a few open halls. More Cerberus logos on the ground and on the walls; more rooms leading to offices filled with Cerberus scientists, engineers, and other agents. I saw all the diagrams plastered across those offices, filled with images of me, my body, my skeleton, my scans from any given time over the past two years. Those people in the offices, in their uniforms of black, white, gray, orange—they stared outside their windows as I passed by with Miranda, smiling at me in a proud warmth. Unexpected from Cerberus, from what I knew of their reputation.

Proud as they were, these scientists, engineers, and everyone else had to be glad that they'd succeeded.

"We're currently on Lazarus Station," said Miranda. "Every single person here assisted me in bringing you back. The Lazarus Project took up an exorbitant amount of resources, but it was worth it. Aside from some upgrades I'll explain in detail later, you're the same person as you were before." Each door we went through, I allowed her to pass through first, before catching up—like this one. This time, as before, Miranda curled back her smile before continuing, "The Council and the Alliance know what we achieved. You and those you recruit for the team won't need to worry about any sort of legal ramifications in choosing to work with us. Given your value throughout the galaxy, the Illusive Man was able to negotiate those trivial concerns away. Your success is far more important than mere political grudges."

That was good news to me. But I didn't want to qualify my thoughts or my reaction in any type of way. I didn't want her to get a read on me.

"Noted," was all I said.

Miranda seemed to want to smile at that, too.

"I also made the executive decision to stay quiet with anyone else about your reconstruction. For security reasons and for your privacy, it was best to keep the Lazarus Project on a need-to-know basis. Although there is one exception. Lieutenant Williams was aware that you'd return. She's known since the beginning. I haven't told her that the project is complete. Perhaps you'll want to surprise her soon."

Yeah, I did want to surprise Ashley as soon as I could. Especially since it sounded like she hadn't moved on. If she'd known all this time, I could only imagine what she'd put herself through to hold on for me…

And it sounded like Ashley had no problem with this whole Cerberus thing, despite hating them before.

The real crushing mystery was whether Ashley would tell me the truth about this or not.

Miranda soon brought me to a waiting area near the docking station, where a shuttle waited. Heading away from the shuttle, we went over by the chairs lined up in rows over here, next to a window. The view out there past the station's defense guns and artillery: I saw a distant sun surrounded by violet, like a flashlight through the dark expanse of the stars out there. Behind me, across from the window, was another office with more uniformed Cerberus employees at their stations, working in diligence.

Across the way, I saw an armory locker on the wall, and a set of stairs that led down to a different area.

Here, Miranda had set up a computer to work on. She was about to start typing away at the terminal, but she chose to address me first, "The Illusive Man is waiting for you. You'll find the QEC downstairs."

I left her alone, heading down those stairs.

When I was far enough away, walking down the steps, I could've sworn I heard Miranda let out a sigh filled with so much stress and anxiety.

Then again, maybe I was hearing things.

Stepping into this designated area for the quantum entanglement communicator, I embraced this change in my surroundings:

The blazing smolder of a supergiant greeted me in red first, before I saw a suited man sitting in his chair before the sights beyond his expanded window. Smoking a cigarette, drinking from a short glass of American bourbon on the rocks, he held himself a lot like I'd imagined he would. This ambiance of lighted shadows fit him a little too well, though.

"Commander Shepard," stated the Illusive Man—as both a fact of who I was, and a greeting. "I'm glad to see you're up and back on your feet. I'm sure Miranda's told you about the reasons why we brought you back. I'd like to give you some more details before you set off with her."

"I'm listening," I said, again, not wanting to give anything away.

Complete neutrality. As much as possible.

These people already knew enough about me.

I didn't want them in my head in real-time, too.

The Illusive Man began the briefing: "Until the Reapers return, your mission is to find and defeat the Collectors. They're an enigmatic group seemingly working hand-in-hand with the Reapers, like the geth aided Saren and Sovereign. They tend to restrict their operation to the Terminus Systems, abducting human colonies in the tens of thousands. The Collectors are also the ones responsible for the _Normandy's_ destruction two years ago. I want you to lead a team to their homeworld, through the unmapped Omega 4 Relay, and take them out. No one has ever returned from the relay. This will be a suicide mission. But I have faith that you and your team will find a way to get the job done."

Some of that sounded familiar, all from Miranda, from her knowledge after she'd explored my mind, my consciousness. All as a type of bleeding effect that she may or may not have intended, spilling out to me.

Whatever the case, the next mission was clear: stop the Collectors from abducting our colonies.

I could focus on a clear mission with clear objectives. I wanted to. I needed to.

"Understood," I responded. "What's my first objective?"

The Illusive Man paused, the eerie blue glow of his eyes narrowing a bit.

Did he expect me to put up a fight, or to question his authority—or Cerberus' involvement here?

Probably so.

"I'm sending you to Freedom's Progress," he went on. "The Collectors abducted the colonists there only a short time ago. You'll be able to get there first before investigators arrive, possibly disturbing the scene. Find out any clues about how the Collectors took the colonists. Learn whatever you can about their methods. If we can uncover how they did this, then we can come up with a way to fight back."

That rang a bell for me, too. Again, from Miranda leaving traces of herself behind.

From the way she acted earlier, I definitely didn't think she was aware of this. Someone as controlled and prepared as she was, she wouldn't have wanted me to have this kind of access into her head.

The Illusive Man apparently had no idea either. He thought I was over here trying to psych him out.

"Sounds good," I told him. "I'll see what I can find."

Narrowing more, his sight gave away only a mild irritation with me.

As if fishing for a reaction this time, the Illusive Man added, "There's one more thing. We've done our research on your victory against Sovereign. I understand that you were led to believe Dr. T'Soni was the one protecting your mind from outside influences. But this wasn't true. I can confirm that Lieutenant Williams was in fact keeping you safe. She strengthened your will against the Thorian as well as Sovereign's indoctrination attempts. I thought that you should know."

…

"I can accept that," I replied, setting the rest aside. "Thanks for the information."

Snuffing his cigarette over his armrest's tray, premature, the Illusive Man carried on, "Your unique immunity to indoctrination is the best and last chance we have at defeating the Reapers. With you at the tip of the spear, we'll get it done when the time comes. Until then, we'll need access to Reaper technology from the Collector homeworld, in order to strengthen our position in this fight. Of course, your most immediate concern is putting a stop to these human abductions. Go to Freedom's Progress with Miranda. Discover anything you can about the Collectors. We're all counting on you, Commander."

With the press of a button over his console, he ended the QEC call.

He didn't even bother giving me a chance to respond first.

As much as I wanted to smirk over that obvious giveaway, I had to stay unreadable.

And I had a job to do.

Back upstairs, I went to the armory locker first. Sorting through the pistol selection Miranda had set out for me to choose from, I wanted to be mindful. I wanted to make a point. Even if no one else would notice. Even if no one was paranoid enough to pick up on the truth or possibly ask me about this.

I found a Razer pistol—the latest make and build for the current year.

While I set it over my hip as my new sidearm, I heard Miranda working at her computer somewhere behind me in this waiting area. Still doing her best to stay professional, so cool and detached. She failed to remember to type on her terminal at a normal pace and noise level. Whatever she was over there writing or working on, she was pretty pissed off, and just as determined to act like she _wasn't._

Yeah, she didn't know.

Having this advantage kept me at ease while I returned to her, standing beside her.

"Commander," stated Miranda, impersonal. Still type-type-typing, so passive-aggressive. "The Illusive Man tells me you had quite the _productive_ meeting. You wouldn't be trying to pull anything, are you?"

"He gave me his orders and I responded to him," I claimed. "Nothing groundbreaking about it."

Slamming her terminal shut, Miranda cut at me, "Even so, you didn't ask him a single question! You didn't object to us, to Cerberus at all. You offered no reaction—as if everything he said was information you already knew! Or are you simply incapable of reacting somehow? Is that it?! Are you broken?"

Scowling now, annoyed now, I cut right back at her, "Are you naturally this bitchy or is it just me?"

Dismayed, Miranda fixed her damned face soon enough, sounding apologetic, "No, Commander, I… I didn't mean it like that. I meant to ask if _I_ had done something wrong. If I had broken you during the project. If I hadn't done my job properly." She winced at my folded arms; she sighed over my deepening scowl. "Well, you're reacting now. I suppose that's all I was looking for… Please forget what I said."

"Miranda, I'm gonna give you a fair warning," I notified her. "You and I have to work together for this mission. That means you're going to be around me a lot, if not all the time. So don't test me. Don't poke and prod me for the reactions you _think_ you want and expect to get away with it. And don't give me that passive-aggressive bullshit when you're not getting your way. I don't want it under any circumstances whatsoever. If I'm not in the mood to show anything, then I'm not in the fucking mood. Am I clear?"

Lowering her head, as I expected, Miranda replied, "Yes, Commander. You're perfectly clear…"

Unfolding my arms, at least, I reminded her, "You said you had some other details to brief me on."

"It can wait until we're in the shuttle," she brooded. "If you're ready, we can go now."

I eased my hand toward the docking bay, palm facing upward: gesturing for her to head on over.

My manners paired with my mood kept Miranda off-balance as she led the way.

She kept on trying to play it off, anyway. I knew Miranda was used to getting her way. I knew she was used to people kissing her ass because of how skilled and accomplished she no doubt was. Hell, she'd brought me back. That was _really_ something. But it was no excuse for the rest of this. Especially after she claimed to _know me._ Miranda had to know there was no way I'd put up with anything more than standard duty. I was only this courteous with her out of habit. Even after everything, letting her in the shuttle first was a natural reaction for me, like an involuntary function.

I at least appreciated those moments from when I'd first met her. And that she'd brought me back at all.

If not for that, I would've been convinced by now that she was completely fake and full of herself.

* * *

For the shuttle ride to Freedom's Progress, I didn't expect to have to sit in this cramped space. Sitting across from Miranda, my legs were way too long for this. She was perfectly fine crossing her legs like that, and her arms, taking up the least amount of room possible in her seat. Somehow, Miranda had also decided to sit _directly_ across from me. Literally straight across! And I couldn't move without being rude, despite how annoyed she knew I was by the look on my face. So I was stuck plastering and bending the soles of my combat boots against the steeled foundation of her seat, tangling myself away from the leather labyrinth of her legs and her heeled boots.

If this was the type of shuttle I had to expect for the rest of our missions, then I could only bring a couple of other people with me max at a time. Nothing like that trash Mako where we could all fit in at once.

On top of that, while Miranda talked to me, we had nowhere else to look except at each other.

There was only a single window beside us, open to the darkness and the vague illumination from the stars looking in. This dim, cold lighting brightened the paleness about Miranda's face. Or really just the contrast of her fair skin with her dark shade of hair. And the contrast, the contradiction from her eyes: of a blue so warm here with me, but so cold in habit and in expression.

As cramped as I was compared to her, I had no choice but to zero in on every detail about her like this.

While we talked, Miranda gave me two completely different modes:

 _Informational._ More specifics about the colony, what to expect there. Useful particulars about her combat and tactical specializations as a biotic and tech user, to help shape my orders to her. Relevant historical changes over the past two years, catching me up on the major galactic events that had happened while I was gone. I appreciated speaking to her on this level, in this mode, because Miranda and I could vibe in a chill, intelligent way. We knew history. We knew politics. We knew the military. I kept up with her. She kept up with me. I liked that.

 _Avoidant._ Once she had nothing else to catch me up to speed on, she went quiet. Or she would choke up in between topics, before remembering something else to talk about. Every time, I waited for her to get herself together. Every single time, I would _look_ at her, expectant, before she continued talking. There was nothing to keep up with. I hated it.

When she fell into another frigid silence, I was this close to putting my headphones on and ignoring her.

I managed to stop myself once I picked up on something else.

The way this woman switched modes like this, seemingly on the spot…alarms went off for me.

Miranda was a spy.

Or some type of _tactical operative_ adjacent to a spy. Or an archetype of a spy, of someone who was used to dealing with intelligence and subterfuge for a living. She should have been subtler about it. She should have been used to switching between personable and professional with someone like me. Not professional and paranoid with herself for her own personal reasons. Her giveaways were serious fuckups on her end. She absolutely should have been pissed off and flustered over giving away the game like this. Or at least making herself vulnerable to my observations in such an obvious way.

I made sure she didn't notice my alarms or my noticing. She had no idea whatsoever.

Because she switched modes _again_ once she saw, once again, that I definitely had nothing to talk about or bring up on my own.

"Right, your upgrades," remembered Miranda, professional once more. "I was able to make substantial improvements to your implants. You're now able to use your tactical cloak for an unlimited amount of time, and without any painful side effects. Your Icarus Landing System will keep you safe from even greater heights, well past two kilometers, in case you ever need to escape from a capital-class Reaper ship with only your augmentation to save you. You can stay awake forever if you'd like without abusing your exhaustion implants—you'll only feel drowsy if you make the decision to sleep on your own. Although you won't be able to stave off your hunger and thirst in the same ways. You only need to eat once a day from now on, but you can suspend that for up to a month as with before."

Despite my alarms still going off about her, I did like those upgrades.

"Sounds useful," I mentioned, not wanting to tip her off. "Thanks."

Miranda smiled a bit. "Of course, Commander," she replied. "Unfortunately, I wasn't able to fix the strange glitch with your temperature implants. I'm aware that you and Lieutenant Williams experienced an unusual release of heat whenever you were in the same room together. I couldn't find a solution to the problem. It may persist when you see her again. But I doubt it's anything to worry about."

That weird thing was amusing enough to keep me from worrying, yeah.

I just shrugged.

"In case you do run into any issues," she continued, checking her omni-tool, "I created a chat room for us. I'll use it primarily to check in with you about your health, how you're feeling. I'd like you to report any abnormalities to me so that I can look into them straightaway. We don't need to use this for anything else, if you'd rather not."

Checking my own omni-tool, I saw that she'd already put me in the room, called _The Prodigal._

I had to keep from scowling over it. Not because I disapproved.

I actually appreciated, again, that Miranda cared like this.

The problem was that I knew where she'd picked up on this idea from.

She'd probably spied on my old team through that _Team Renegade Shepard_ chat of theirs. She knew everything about them, too. She and Cerberus had stalked all of us throughout our entire mission…

 _All of us_ —Ashley included.

It took everything in me to not clench down on my back teeth, to stabilize myself with that tic of mine.

None the wiser, as I needed her to be, Miranda lowered her guard some more. "Unrelated to work, I should also come clean to you about something else… Lieutenant Williams was understandably in a lot of pain after your death. She only started to come back around after I told her about the Lazarus Project. From that point on, she and I—we grew close. Very close. Although we never _fell in love._ It wasn't about that. It was just a deep, emotional bond that caught us both off-guard. That's all. She only loves you."

I scowled worse than a fucking demon.

She tried pretty damned hard to not flinch before me.

"I was dead," I repeated. "But Ashley didn't move on."

Trying to stay neutral. "Yes, that's right…"

Leaning in, slow and steady, closer to her, I hard-pressed my hand against the back of Miranda's seat, making sure to _intimidate—_ "Did you sleep with my girlfriend?"

Miranda's eyes went wide this close to mine. "No, Commander, I didn't—!"

"But you wanted to," I accused. "Didn't you?" When she wouldn't respond to me, I slammed my hand against this damned steel, as hard as I could've destroyed her with instead, making her flinch. "Did you or did you not want to have sex with my girlfriend? I'm not fucking around here, Lawson. _Answer me!"_

"We both wanted it but we agreed not to—"

Balling my fist against this steel instead, I warned her, "I'm telling you now: you should have lied to me."

"Commander, _I can't do that,"_ tried Miranda, folding her arms so tight around herself, her limbs started to dig into one another. "I can't lie to you. Not about this. _Not about anything!_ I'm already ashamed of myself over this as it is. So if you're going to hit me, then you might as well do it now."

She knew damn well that I couldn't put my hands on her.

Miranda was convinced this was only about _respect._ This was about way more than that. So much more.

Blowing off steam, I threw myself back against my seat, as far away from her as I could get.

Directly across from her, staring at her, _still,_ I could only rest my throbbing head over my fist instead.

Rapid pulsing from my temple beneath my gloved thumb—I kept my sight fixated on these pathetic fragments of contradictions in front of me. As much as Miranda did her best to avoid my stare, acting like she could disappear if she folded her arms hard enough against her body, I knew what she was:

Sickening, sycophantic and psychotic, all-in-one.

I knew what this was. And I was shackled. Locked here in this cage she had carved with her own hands.

 _This_ was the so-called ice queen that had taken advantage of Ash, earning my girlfriend's trust and co-dependent friendship; starting these reactions for the three of us, cramped and chained together. All roads led directly to me. Every single one. No matter her genuine care, Miranda's intentions were clear.

I knew exactly what this woman wanted from me and how she'd planned on getting it, _scheming._

If I could have shot Miranda dead then and there, execution-style, then I would have fucking done it.

* * *

I had to push my emotions back for the time being. I had to empty my mind.

Miranda and I had arrived to Freedom's Progress.

We had a mission.

I couldn't afford to mope around and break down over these apocalyptic reactions so deep in my soul, for Ashley, for her.

 _Only her,_ because I'd helped her kill Liara, because of what she'd gotten herself into—compromised by Cerberus for life—and I wasn't there. I wasn't there to keep her safe, to help her through it, to protect her. I wasn't there for her, for my babe, my baby. Because I had fucking died. _I was dead!_ And the only option she'd had was to run into someone else's arms: this goddamned spy who wanted her, who wanted me way more; who exploited their friendship as a trusting free-for-all. Now this desperate woman had brought me back to life, only to throw me into this damned cage where I couldn't blow up, couldn't give myself away, couldn't say a word about what I knew or how or why. Not without compromising Ashley even more. Not without possibly destroying her _real friend_ Miranda who'd supported her through the two long, painful years she'd suffered while I was gone. Not without breaking her heart, after all the promises I'd made.

At the end of the day, I could deal with this subterfuge of my own. I could keep my cover. I could blend in. I could lay low and lie as much as possible without breaking, and I could do whatever was necessary to make up for everything. I could hide, becoming invisible. I was in my element here. I was used to it.

Because Ashley was more important than my useless feelings, especially right now during a mission.

I could make these sacrifices for her. Just not without all this pain and regret and frustration…

These motherfucking Collectors needed to pay for destroying my ship. For killing me. For putting my team through so much grief, and for starting this mess of a situation that was my new life—

And for taking me away from Ashley in the first place.

Finally escaping that cramped shuttle, I stepped out to the fresh air of the colony at night, after I forced myself to let Miranda exit first. Rocky ground and terrain. Empty and hollow from these abandoned homes, with the moonlight above as our only company—this place didn't care to expect or welcome us after the abduction not that long ago. One larger moon loomed overheard as most of the light, watching through the clouds darkened to gray, while another, smaller one hung out in the distance.

Illusions of cold, mirages of snowflakes falling—it looked like it had started snowing.

Nothing collected on the drear of the stony ground, drab and already-white as it was.

Some of that supposed snow collected over Miranda's boots as she ambled around, observing.

"Awfully quiet—as it should be," she pointed out. "I can't imagine the Collectors left any of the colonists behind. I thought we'd at least see some signs of fighting, resistance. There's nothing. I wonder why…"

During our briefing on the shuttle, Miranda had uploaded the colony's schematics to my omni-tool. I brought them up, syncing Freedom's Progress' layout with my enemy radar. Scores of signatures from patrolling mechs showed up, blinking in red over the orange of the map's details: bipedal LOKI mechs, FENRIS dog mechs, waves and waves of security drones, and even a huge, armor-plated YMIR heavy mech somewhere farther in. I picked up on some friendlies caught in the middle of everything, but figured they might've been survivors. And if they weren't, we'd find out who they were soon enough.

"Miranda, this place is a mess," I said. "The colony's crawling with mechs just past here."

"Standard security," she figured. "Then again, they should've helped the colonists during the attack."

"Whether they helped or not, the mechs are programmed to attack anything on sight now. They're already fighting some friendlies a ways inside. So they won't be happy to see us, either. I don't want to get overwhelmed out here. Especially not before we manage to find what we need."

Miranda took one look at my radar, eyes growing wide in understanding. "Yes, I see… That will definitely be a problem. Awaiting your orders, then."

"We need to make our way to those survivors—or whoever they are. They might have some answers."

"Agreed. I'm only worried about the sheer number of hostile mechs. They could come after us sooner."

The single, most obvious solution.

As I activated my tactical cloak, fading to invisibility, Miranda stared through to the glimmer of me in confusion. I couldn't know why she did, since this made the most sense. She had to know what this was, too. All from the damned attachments I'd formed with her while she brought me back, this was all we could do:

When I set my hand over her shoulder, Miranda cloaked with me.

Forms shimmering together beneath the light of the street lamps fogging through the night, and that looming moonlight—this was the best path.

Even with Miranda staggering back and away from me, out of my reach, so much like Ashley had done the first time this happened on the _Normandy,_ right before Noveria. Even with her staying cloaked, with or without my touch, exactly like Ash had been able to do. Like Liara had never been able to do with me.

Then again, I'd never really tested it. If I had, then I probably could've _known_ sooner.

"Already!?" questioned Miranda. "But… But I thought…"

"This only works with certain people, yes," I finished. "A strong enough attachment will do the trick. It's been two years. I _felt_ you for most of that time."

Somehow, this didn't seem to answer Miranda's concerns.

Still, she made herself say, "Well…I suppose so."

"Come on—let's go," I directed, holding her hand—feeling pure energy from her gloved touch this time.

I didn't _need_ to do this, but I couldn't let myself lose track of her.

As much as I thought about tossing her into the water in the canals below, green and steaming with heat, I couldn't do that.

No matter how much I wanted to.

Accepting my methods, Miranda did her best to compose herself. "Understood, Commander."

Switching, switching.

Cloaked together, I brought Miranda inside the nearest house with me. Flickering lights reacting to our presence, brightening up the dark. Abandoned dinner trays over the tables. Forgotten belongings lying on the ground. Fallen sidearms from the colonists who'd tried to defend themselves, but hadn't been able to manage in time. Every house we passed through showed the same telltale signs—and nothing else. No other clues from an attack. No other ways to tell that anything had happened here at all.

And no footprints that the Collectors had left behind, so to speak. They left no traces. Nothing.

Nothing about the colony seemed out of the ordinary at all—until we passed through the first gate leading to the next area, closer to where those other friendlies were. We found those LOKI mechs and FENRIS mechs patrolling around, with swarms of security drones flying and buzzing overhead not too far away from them. All we had to do was slip past them to reach those other people.

Those other people, whose blips on my radar continued to lessen and lessen, their numbers thinning.

We didn't have much time before all of them disappeared.

But when Miranda stopped to a loud, clicking halt in her heels at the sight of the mechs, I found another problem. That impractical Cerberus uniform of hers was the worst for infiltration missions like this. Typical.

I let go of her hand.

"Commander…? What are you—?"

Impatient, I picked Miranda up without any warning or indication.

Whatever her reaction was, I couldn't see it past our shared invisibility, as I preferred.

She was at least practical enough to hold me around my neck, my shoulders, without protesting this.

I carried Miranda along, sneaking past the mechs while they kept on patrolling, oblivious to us. Already, I knew this was way faster than it would've been if I'd made her adjust her footsteps and footing in those boots of hers. Hell, most of her average, expected weight _was_ from her boots, slinging along in her own forced lightness; almost tipping the scales of her distribution in my arms. I noticed it even more on the off-chances when she crossed her ankles over the other, tightening, fearing each time one of the dog mechs traipsed by on their four legs, too close for her liking, but far enough away for me to deal with.

Miranda stayed quiet, anyway. Forcing herself not to breathe from time to time. Muting her reactions.

Just up ahead, far enough away from the mechs we'd passed by, I heard the loudening sounds of more security drones—and their rapid-fire guns mowing down those friendlies, screaming in death and agony.

Setting Miranda back down, I deactivated our invisibility. We hurried close enough to the house where the attack was, taking in the scene first from behind cover:

Of the last of the 'survivors' here on Freedom's Progress, these friendlies weren't human at all. A team of quarians, outsiders, who were here for some reason or another—they ran from the security drones flying after them, while others got taken out trying to slow the drones down. The last of them nearly fell right as Miranda and I arrived. Anyone who was left after that, they were probably done for.

I was about to make up my mind not to intervene, since I wasn't sure if helping them was worth the risk.

But then someone caught my eye, bringing me back to a scene from long ago.

The last quarian holding her ground, the sole survivor of her unit—I shouldn't have recognized her in that enviro-suit of shades of purple, with yellow and black, but I was somehow convinced that I knew her. More so once I saw how she fought: outnumbered by the drones, she hacked the ones she could, forcing them to fight each other. She summoned her own violet-tinted combat drone to distract the others, stun-locking them in place. Any other drones that were about to get too close, she aimed her geth plasma shotgun at them and fired, overloading their shields with her disruptor rounds.

"I won't let you take me down!" shouted the quarian, in a familiar accent. Different, stronger, thicker, and more pronounced now that she was two years older, but still decidedly _her._

 _That was Tali_ , without a doubt.

Quiet enough to not draw any attention to us, I gave my order from behind cover: "Miranda, chain your Overload strikes at those drones primed by the quarian's disruptor ammo. The tech bursts should slow them down. Back her up while I keep an eye out for any other hostiles."

"Affirmative."

Rushing ahead, Miranda sent several precision Overload strikes to the drones already primed by that ammo. Stronger than I'd predicted, the swarm of drones blew up in chain reactions, detonating from the tech bursts. Chaining higher, louder, explosive: the bursts enflamed in the loud eruption of an electrical fire inside the house. The embers burned through everything in sight. Miranda fired her light submachine gun at the few stragglers still trying to fight back, taking them down. All the while, I watched her in a silent surprise. From what I could remember, whenever Tali and Garrus had done this before, no matter which one of them had set off the explosion, it hadn't been anywhere near as devastating as what Miranda had done just now.

She then pulled Tali away from the smoke and fires that had caught her off-guard. Away, and over this way back where it was safe, Tali let herself be pulled along, not wanting to risk getting burned now that the house was about to go up in flames.

Miranda had nearly gotten Tali out of the building safely when my radar flashed in warning.

Running in as kamikazes, a handful of FENRIS dog mechs dashed through the fires. Heading straight for Tali and Miranda; intent on exploding on impact, burning them alive.

Stepping back, far enough away, I retrieved my new Widow sniper rifle and aimed:

Thin reticles met as a cross at the center. I found the first mech's eyes glowing as a maddened red braving through the blaze. Leading a small pack in a line, they followed each other as four or more, almost reaching Tali and Miranda. Almost catching both of them off-guard this time. Snapping their attention to those dogs about to reach them.

I took the single shot.

This knockback should've broken my arms clear in half. Instead I only felt the satisfying feedback from this exacting boom, as precise as my aim. One shot was enough. One infinitely powerful shot from this thing tore straight through the line of mechs. This bullet punched through the metal with ease, taking them out one after another. They exploded well away from Miranda and Tali, adding the ongoing fire.

Miranda slammed the door shut to the house. Tali hurried to seal it that way, locking and containing the fires inside—for now, at least.

Stepping away from the door, Tali sighed in relief. She then looked to Miranda. "I don't know who you are, but…" And then down to the Cerberus logo over Miranda's uniform. Tali paused, about to reconsider her words. In the end, she stuck to the original plan: "But— _thank you."_

"It was nothing," claimed Miranda. "Don't worry about it."

Humming in a barely-veiled suspicion, Tali decided not to make a big deal out of this. Accepting her judgment, Miranda ambled a ways away to keep watch, and to give us a moment alone.

Tali then turned to me, watching as I holstered my sniper rifle over my back.

The brights of her eyes behind her mask widened and lit up more—until she hesitated, stopping herself.

Different now, yet still the same as I remembered her, Tali wavered between hurrying over to me and staying right where she was. Or even backing away in uncertainty as those flames burned on behind her, rising atop the roof of that house. I couldn't blame her. I could've been anyone, after all. Wiser as she should've been, she was likely around twenty-four years old now if I remembered right. She'd clearly completed her Pilgrimage, too, using the gift I'd given her. This new suit of hers, the intricate patterning there in darker violet over the paler purple of her hood and the rest of her: it all fit her so well.

Fitting in that aesthetic, maybe my eyes softened. Maybe that was why Tali softened in response.

"Shepard," she whispered. "Is that you…? Or could it be…someone pretending to be you? I can't tell."

"It's me, Tali," I reassured her. "I can prove it if you need me to."

More curious than doubtful, Tali requested, "Yes, please do. How can I know that you're you?"

"Yeah, it's me, but I might be more _insensitive_ these days. Sorry."

Convinced, yet still cautious, Tali sniffled, trembling a little. Unable to make herself move from her spot.

She believed me.

Softening a bit more, for her, I went over to Tali and held her again, just like old times. Reminding me so much of before, of those calming moments on the _Normandy,_ Tali held me back in the same ways—but stronger. Tighter. Full of disbelief, and need, all mixed and jumbled together. No matter how much time had passed, she still felt as small in my arms as she had before, if not more. Listening to her hold back her emotions as much as possible, some of them still managed to slip away from her. Through that mild breaking, I could tell that Tali did seem…a little broken. Maybe more than that. A lot more.

She held herself together, though. She kept everything in place, mending those gaps and tears in her well-being, in her mind; and in her heart, more than likely.

Tali made a fist and hit my shoulder with it, defiant. "You weren't supposed to die like that," she anguished. "I can't even begin to tell you what the past two years have done to me. And it all started because we lost you. _I told you_ during the attack that I didn't want to leave your side! Look what happened afterward…"

"I know, Tali," I remembered. "I'm sorry. You've been through a lot—I can see it. But I'm here now."

"How?" she wanted to know, pulling away just enough to gaze up at me. "How did you come back…? How long ago did you return? Why didn't you tell me right away? I missed you, Shepard. _So much."_

"Cerberus brought me back. I only woke up today. They told me about Freedom's Progress and sent me to investigate. I'm here to find out how the colonists were abducted. I didn't really have time for anything else before I shipped out. Looks like it was for the best. Otherwise I might've been too late."

Tali accepted that. "Right, the colonists… I do know something about them." I let her step out of my hold, watching as she found her bearings again. "Or at least, I know how to find out. My squad and I were supposed to find another quarian who is here on Pilgrimage. We saw him lock himself away on the far side of town. We were on our way to take him back to the Flotilla when those mechs attacked us."

"The quarians those drones gunned down—was that your whole squad?"

"Yes… Prazza, and _everyone._ They're all dead. I was in charge. Now I'm the only one left." Tali sighed, before muttering, "Some _commander_ I am…"

"Your team was overwhelmed," I reasoned. "It wasn't your fault."

"I know it wasn't," she believed. "But it still hurts." Tali glanced at Miranda still keeping watch not too far away. "Maybe we should save the rest until after the mission. That quarian I mentioned, Veetor, is the one programming those mechs to attack on sight. He was always… _nervous_ —so if he suffered any damage to his suit during the abduction, then he could be delirious. We need to find him and see what he knows about what happened here. He should still be in a warehouse at the loading bay."

I used my omni-tool to find the coordinates for that warehouse. "All right, we can head out and find Veetor together. You should join me after the mission. I'm taking out the ones who captured the colonists."

Tali paused, before admitting, "Shepard, _you know_ I'd join you for anything. No matter what. Even if you are working for Cerberus. If they brought you back, then I shouldn't hold grudges against them. But…"

Masking my disappointment, I prompted her, "But what?"

Anxious, she pulled at her hands, explaining, "I can't join your team. Not yet, I mean! I-I'm working on something for my father, and…" Tali composed herself again. "Listen, I'll explain more once we're done here. Long story short: Father and I got into a big argument about a year ago—over _something_ —and he's just now starting to come back around! I only need to finish a few more tasks and favors for him, and then I'll be right there with you again. I promise. Trust me, I wish it didn't have to be this way…"

"I understand, Tali. Whenever you're ready, let me know and I'll come pick you up. Deal?"

Tali brightened, welcoming my own promise into her heart. "Deal."

I gestured for her to follow me. "Miranda, the three of us will continue on from here. One of my old teammates has the intel we need on where to go. She's a tech genius. This is Tali'Zorah…"

Right. She had completed her Pilgrimage, so her ship-name had changed. Then again, Miranda probably _knew_ these things already, and then some.

Tali giggled and introduced herself to Miranda; re-introducing herself to me. "Tali'Zorah vas Neema."

"Of course," accepted Miranda. "It's a good thing you're here, Tali'Zorah. We appreciate the intel."

Checking my radar, the path to the warehouse looked about the same as the one on the way here: filled with patrolling hostile mechs and security drones. I found a similar story at the actual loading bay itself. More of those drones, on top of a huge YMIR heavy mech in the area. All of them were probably patrolling the area to protect Veetor inside the warehouse, as paranoid as he was in his delirium.

He was safe, anyway. So we didn't necessarily have to rush.

Still, if we wasted time fighting through all the mechs in our way, we'd no doubt alert Veetor to our presence out here. I didn't want him getting any bright ideas about sending enough hostiles our way to wipe us out, too.

Miranda was fine. Her impractical uniform aside, she could cloak with me.

I looked to Tali looking up at me. Waiting for my orders, she no doubt wondered what was on my mind.

Testing, hoping, I set my hand over Tali's shoulder.

When I activated my tactical cloak, she shifted to invisibility with me: her suit and her body underneath. And so did Miranda, my intentions traveling across to her without us needing physical contact. Even when I let go of Tali's shoulder—like with Miranda—she remained unseen, with the three of us still cloaked together through these bonds they both shared with me.

Tali almost jumped in surprise. "How did you—? The last time when you tried, I couldn't!"

I remembered thinking about Tali in those moments right before I'd died. Before I'd suffocated and burned out, she had been on my mind. Along with Ashley. Along with Liara. I could never forget how special Tali was to me. How I had my own crush on her, still attracted to her voice, her intelligence, her personality, and her dedication to me. Even though I'd never told Tali about this myself. Even though there was probably a lot more going on here than I realized. So it all made perfect sense to me.

Now wasn't the time to explain any of this to her.

"Let's get going," I ordered, holding Tali's hand, and Miranda's. Heat and more heat from both of them. "We need to get to the loading bay and find Veetor in the warehouse. Stick with me and we'll be fine."

I found a longer way around the patrolling mechs and security drones this time, crossing through the abandoned houses, and over the moonlit walkways on the far side of the area. Skirting around at this distance, I didn't have to worry about Miranda's ridiculous heels. Or even Tali's clear lack of infiltration experience in the way her armored boots scuffled along the rocky ground as she walked. I couldn't take any risks with them. Not with their safety on the line like this.

Miranda relaxed during the stroll. Tali did as well, letting herself accept things for what they were now.

I would need them to be at their best once we made it to the loading bay. That heavy mech and those drones weren't going to let us find Veetor just like that. So I went ahead and let Tali and Miranda lower their guard; letting them trust me as much as they did.

In my allowances, I felt myself almost getting distracted by these two, and in such different ways:

As more time went on, Tali gripped my hand over hers, tighter and tighter. Needing, her three gloved fingers of hers found a way to wrap around the five of mine. Still so much smaller than I was, she stayed as close to me as she could, her enviro-suit and her body heat brushing right against my stealth suit. Needing to know that I was definitely still here. Needing to know that this wasn't a dream. I remembered, then, that she had lost Liara, too. Pretty much directly after losing me. That kind of shock to her system…it was no wonder she seemed to cling to me more like this. It was no wonder at all that I could see the crevices in her mind, feeling the fissures there, not entirely healed or sealed over time.

I wished I could've apologized to her about Liara; explained what I'd done. Even if I hadn't made my choices for Ashley on purpose. I still felt like this was all my fault. So, from now on, I made up my mind to not be as distant with Tali as I'd been before. We were supposed to be friends. And I knew she wanted us to be closer. She would never tell me that, specifically, or push me where she thought I didn't want to go. I had to take the initiative, then. But maybe I did want Tali to open up a little more. To push me in a certain way. Whatever the case, I needed her to hold on to me just as she did now. I liked that she relied on me.

Miranda had also let me hold my hand over her own, both this time and before. Something about power, something about control, something about dominance and submission—she had given it up to me willingly and without a fight. Slenderness of her five fingers hidden in her lean leather, I couldn't remember when she'd intertwined them between mine. Startled a bit, her hand stiffened and shook in my hold. She seemed to notice that I had noticed—or she'd realized her own instinctive actions. But Miranda didn't pull away from me. She didn't try to adjust her hold. She didn't apologize, or say anything at all. She just kept walking with me, kept letting me guide her forward.

I let myself question if I'd had it right about her intentions. As pissed off and suspicious as I was, already overprotective of Ashley, I couldn't really know what Miranda planned on doing with me, now that I was here, now that I was back. Unless I saw more of those traces that she'd bled behind in my mind, I understood that I couldn't believe anything for certain. Still, the current of heat radiating from her touch to mine spoke of such a loud tale, and a long one—much longer than Tali's, and even Ashley's.

Maybe I just needed to accept that I wasn't _the same_ as before.

Not one hundred percent. Nowhere close to that.

Even then, that didn't make this feeling go away. Knowing that Miranda had taken advantage of Ashley, _if nothing else,_ forced this reaction in me, like knives clashing somewhere underneath my skin. And I didn't want to let go of this feeling, as much as it made my blood broil. I needed my justification for this.

Acceptable distractions, ending them as much as I could: I returned my focus to this last empty house we passed through. Still no clues or any signs of an attack anywhere. Still nothing to discern or go off of.

This Veetor needed to have some answers for us.

When we made it to the wide door leading to the loading bay, I wasn't surprised to find that it was locked shut. Those security drones and that heavy mech were just past here. As overprotective as I was.

Tremors through the ground from the YMIR mech's slow, weighty stomping around reached us here.

Miranda forced herself to keep her balance. "What _is_ that?"

"Sounds like a heavy mech," noticed Tali. "YMIR for sure. That armor plating clanking around—I'd recognize it anywhere. It's going to have a rocket launcher and machine guns in its artillery. _And_ I hear some security drones buzzing through the air. They'd rip right through our shields before the mech could even get a chance to fire at us. This won't be good."

Invisible and all, I felt Tali and Miranda both looking at me in worry.

They already knew my weaknesses. They didn't need to waste time pointing them out.

Besides, neither of them were equipped to dealing with this kind of onslaught. Not for too long, anyway.

If I focused on taking out the mech first, then the drones would be free to punch through Miranda and Tali's shields. But if I focused on the drones, then they'd be out of the way, even though the heavy mech would immediately turn to me, keeping me from aiming properly to fire at it. Not until I could get Tali and Miranda to distract it some more while I moved to a better vantage point, for a proper headshot.

Only one or the other.

Uncloaking the three of us at once, I made up my mind:

"As soon as we open this door, they're going to be over here," I told them. "Even if we'd stayed cloaked, it wouldn't have mattered. They'd have opened fire anyway. So first things first: I need the two of you to buy me some time. Run in, take cover, and stay far away from that heavy mech. I'll take out those drones before they can flank you. Once they're down, we'll work together to take out the YMIR unit."

"Understood, Commander," replied Miranda. "How do you want to handle that last one?"

"I already know it's going to come right for me after I deal with the drones. I won't be able to get rid of it on my own." I looked to Tali. "Can you disable that rocket launcher and those guns?"

Tali responded, "I can, but not until the mech's shields are down, at the very least. The armor underneath won't be a problem—I'll be able to work through that. The shields will be the only issue."

"Then I want you both to repeat your tech burst from earlier: Tali, use your shotgun to prime the mech with your disruptor ammo, and then Miranda will overload the mech and set everything off. We'll improvise as needed after that."

"Okay, got it," said Tali.

Miranda used her omni-tool to get Tali in on our new radio frequency. "Here, we'll need this to coordinate."

"Thanks, Miranda. I'm in now. Shepard, want me to breach the door? I'll go whenever you're ready."

"Go ahead and open it."

While Tali worked on unlocking the door, I took cover along the wall nearby. I knew she was ready for this. I trusted her capabilities. And I also knew what to expect from her, now that I had seen a preview of how much she'd grown over the years.

Miranda remained an unknown to me. Even as she waited behind Tali—without her submachine gun drawn—I couldn't know what to expect from her. That success earlier had been more or less prepped beforehand for her, by accident and by chance. She had taken advantage of that accident. So I needed to see what this spy was like when she could only follow my orders, or improvise on the spot, to win the battle in front of her.

Cloaking to invisibility on my own, for myself only, I made sure my radio was on.

And then Tali forced the door open, pulling back the weighted curtain on this last respite of ours:

Clanking footsteps from the bone-white of that heavy mech, and the irritating zooms from the security drones flying through the air in this direction—Tali and Miranda ran straight through as ordered. They quickly found enough cover to hide behind. They kept moving together. Side by side from cover to cover: crates and empty houses and thick ramps from the stairs leading into those homes. Staying mobile, they avoided the worst from the YMIR unit and the drones firing at them. For now, as I needed.

Widow at the ready, I aimed at the first drone getting too close to Miranda and Tali from behind a crate.

Quick-scoping, I popped off a shot, knocking it out of the air. I repeated this quickness at the next drone and the next. Quicker and quicker, way faster and more precise than I expected. Only stopping to reload in between single shots. Only glancing over to notice what Miranda was up to while she and Tali stuck to cover. As I aimed, I saw that glow of Miranda's omni-tool, cycling and working as she supported me. She fine-tuning my rifle's ballistics in real-time. She quickened my shots and improved my accuracy against these things zipping around in the air, helping me fire at them like stationary target practice.

Miranda had told me about this earlier on the shuttle.

Seeing it for myself helped to take the edge off. A little bit. Enough.

Once I finished off the drones, that heavy mech turned right in my direction.

I ran farther inside the loading bay. Knowing that this thing had a lock on me, cloak or no cloak, I got to cover behind one of the houses.

I gave my order via radio: "Tali, Miranda, get on those tech bursts—now!"

 _"Priming the heavy mech!"_ replied Tali, taking those plasma shots with her gun, ammo disrupting.

Still lumbering toward me, the mech only stopped once Miranda set off the detonation, overloading. Cutting through over half of its shields, the bursting electrical explosion was only enough to stagger the thing back. I used the distraction to run away as fast as I could.

The mech opened its arm, about to fire its rocket launcher straight at me. Right at my back. Setting off another burst, Tali and Miranda's teamwork staggered the mech one more time, stopping the rocket.

I kept running, up to higher ground this time, atop one of the roofs.

With Miranda too busy to boost me again, I had to be more strategic about this. Any shot just anywhere on the mech's form might not have been enough to take it out. This had to be a one-shot. Otherwise I'd only draw its attention again. I needed to line up the perfect headshot to get through that plating.

"Its shields are down!" I said. "Tali, disable that rocket launcher and the guns! Miranda, keep it busy while I get up to this vantage point!"

 _"Disabling the launcher first!"_ confirmed Tali.

Miranda complied, _"Right away, Commander! I'll take out the armor for you."_

More than I'd expected—Miranda kept the heavy mech busy, all right.

Getting out in front of the damned thing, Miranda drew the heavy mech's attention. Webbing and glowing a biotic blue from her boots, to the midnight blue of her uniform, and up to her skull, she drew her powers through her arms. The clench of her clawed hands: she melted and distorted that armor with her powerful warp. Elevating, she controlled the YMIR in place, bending its defenses away. Defenseless as it was with its arms disabled and overheated from Tali's efforts, Miranda had the upper-hand.

Until those disables wore off and the mech fired a rocket directly at her instead.

I hurried up to this roof.

Reaching the new ground, I had a view of the mech from directly behind Miranda, aglow as she still was with her biotics. Still dominating the heavy mech in her dark energized grip. Still keeping it on its proverbial knees while it couldn't fight back. Tali remained on standby behind cover, waiting for my shot. She knew—as soon as this YMIR went down, it would detonate not long afterward. I trusted that she was ready to help Miranda get out of the way in time if necessary.

Lining up my aim, I found the heavy mech's eye glowing red within the black opening of its head.

Concentrating, so intense:

The top of Miranda's head was only a thread away from my target. Somehow, the sounds of her biotics soothed me. Soothing more in the memory of _that thing_ Liara used to do to me, with her hands caressing my face, with her biotics glowing and calming. All of it sharpened my focus. Glowing in that blue and white intensity of her own, Miranda kept the mech right where I needed it. She kept herself in harm's way, knowing exactly where my aim was. She held her ground, holding her warp there. Holding her control with her back to me. Trusting me to do what I did best.

Some newfound trust of my own—I pulled the trigger on that red and black with this knockback, ending.

Sending the heavy mech to the ground, it crumpled there as a heap of scrap, so seismic one last time.

Tali hurried out of cover. She ended Miranda's biotic focus as she pulled her away, far enough away.

Safely away, they hid in time from the mini-earthquake of an explosion. Detonating as a hazed blast of fiery reds as flames, the YMIR unit self-destructed. Crater of scrap metal left behind, the charred ground reached out across the detonation radius, well past where Miranda had been before.

Glad that was over with, I disabled my cloak and holstered my gun away.

Tali and Miranda looked up to me here on the roof, breathing out in relief. They watched as I jumped off the edge. I landed back down on the ground, bending my legs as my hydraulics, before I stood up again as normal. Walking past them, I led the way over to the warehouse nearby.

"Good work, you two," I stated. "Let's wrap this up. Veetor should be right through here."

They followed behind me without a word. But I knew better. I sensed their private reactions.

The way Tali seemed much lighter as she walked. The way Miranda gave off an aura of pride, actually getting to fight by my side for the first time and succeeding like that.

Both of them, so captivated by me. In their own ways.

I acted like I didn't notice, opening the door to this warehouse.

I let Miranda and Tali in first to this room of a dim, shadowy red, filled with so many monitors near the console. Sitting at that console had to be Veetor himself, his enviro-suit appearing the same colors as this room. Delirious, paranoid, babbling as he typed away, he completely ignored us behind him. He went on and on about some shit I didn't care to understand:

"Monsters coming back. Mechs will protect. Safe from swarms. Have to hide. No monsters. No swarms. No-no-no-no-no."

I told Tali, "Go see what his problem is. Find out what he knows about the colonists."

"Will do, Shepard," she complied, approaching him. "Veetor, it's me. It's Tali. You're safe now."

"No Veetor. Tali? Not here. Impossible. Swarms can't find. Monsters coming. Have to hide."

Well out of patience already, I retreated back to the exit. I leaned on the doorway to breathe in the cold air from outside. Tali eventually sighed, using her omni-tool to disable all of those monitors in front of Veetor, getting his attention that way. But I'd already mentally checked out from this whole thing.

I felt Miranda's eyes on me, observing. She half-listened to Veetor ramble to Tali about the 'monsters'—the Collectors—that had taken the colonists away. Targeting humans. Unable to target Veetor since he was a quarian. We knew that already. So, with this brief leeway, Miranda fully stared at the back of my head as I stood here. She stared at a lot more than that. She took in these harsh shadows over me, harsher still from this half-hearted red dimming over the black of my stealth suit. She took in the shape of me in my suit. The shape of my reticence, the shape of my impatience. The shape of my hips that she could see, darkening her sight with whatever thoughts had overtaken her mind. She honestly expected that I didn't care to notice her doing this, and so she stared more, like she was somehow safe from my perception.

Miranda wasn't _safe_ from me.

"Shepard, Miranda," called Tali. "You'll want to see this. Take a look." We both turned around, finding the security footage of the abduction playing across the multiple monitors, interspersed there as a single image. "These… _things_ took away the colonists. Do either of you know what they are?"

Bipedal, carrying alien-looking assault rifles. Large, curved heads, sharpened at the ends. Dark-colored forms matching the hue of the pods they carried with the humans inside, and those bugs swarming around.

Miranda responded, "Yes, those are the Collectors—without a doubt."

Taken aback, Tali asked, "Collectors…? What are those?"

"They're a species from somewhere beyond the Omega 4 Relay, working with the Reapers. It seems they're only targeting humans for these types of abductions throughout the Terminus Systems. No one knows why. They're also the same group who attacked the _Normandy_ two years ago. That large, alien ship belonged to them—the Collectors."

Quieted anger from Tali's remembrance: "I see…"

"Those seeker swarms certainly explain what happened here. They look like miniature probes of some sort. The Collectors must have used these swarms to immobilize the colonists with a stasis field or nerve toxin, before carrying them off in those pods. It's no wonder there are hardly any signs of an attack."

Tali reasoned, "Yes, that would make the most sense. Though I think that's all the information we're getting. Veetor doesn't appear to know anything more."

Miranda agreed, "So it would seem."

"I should take him back to the Flotilla. He needs medical attention. Do the two of you have a way out of here?"

"We have our shuttle, yes. It's still waiting for us. Did Veetor stop programming those mechs to attack on sight?"

Veetor said, "Yes-yes-yes. No more monsters. Safe back home. No mechs. No more attacks."

"Then it sounds like we'll all be just fine," deduced Miranda.

"Here—a gift," added Veetor, opening his omni-tool. He forwarded some data to the three of us. "I studied seeker swarms. Found data, readings. Might be useful. Want to help. Help for saving me."

Tali expressed, "Thank you, Veetor. This should be very helpful." She came over to me by the exit. "Well, I guess this is goodbye…for now. I know I said we would talk more after the mission. Now that everything's over, I admit I'm starting to feel a little too emotional. I'm not sure you'd want to see me once everything finally sinks in. Or— _maybe_ what I'm trying to say is…I'm just really embarrassed right now. I don't want to make a fool out of myself. Not in front of you, or your new teammate."

"If you need some more time, I can wait," I replied. "Whenever you're ready, like I said. No pressure."

"All right. Thank you, Shepard. And you're not so insensitive, you know. I worried that you might be. I'm glad you've proved me wrong. You're still the same as I remember you."

Miranda went over to the console, busying herself by looking over more footage of the Collectors.

Once again, and one more time—for now—Tali gave me a hug.

I returned her embrace, glad to have this time with her, too.

"Let me know when you make it back home," I requested. "I'll make sure you have my personal email address instead. We can use that to talk, catch up a bit until I pick you up."

Tali nodded against my shoulder. "I'll be sure to do that," she promised. "It's sweet that you care this much, too. I appreciate it."

"Well, _I'd_ appreciate if you didn't tell Ashley that you saw me. I plan on surprising her soon."

"I figured," she noted, oddly neutral. "Your secret's safe with me. Though I'm not sure how she'll react to this whole Cerberus thing. I'll wish you luck…" Why did she sound so off about this, about Ashley? Tali went ahead and whispered to me, quiet enough: "By the way. What's with this Miranda woman? She's definitely capable—and a very worthy fighter—but I can't help noticing that there's something… _more_ going on with her? Umm…"

Strangeness aside, I had to stop myself from laughing over how nosey Tali was.

"What gives you that idea?" I asked.

Tali explained, "Many things. Mostly the way Miranda stares at you when she thinks you don't notice. And not in a friendly way. I first saw it when you and I spoke alone earlier. I've seen this before, too. It's a lot like the looks Ashley would give you in the early days, before your relationship. It's like that—just _more._ Far more intense. Does she not think that I have eyes, and that I can see these things about her?"

"I get what you mean," I said. "I'm just not sure how to handle that conversation yet."

"Hmm, yes… Miranda wants you. _Very badly._ I can't imagine Ashley will be too happy about this."

Something told me she _would be_ —and that Ash would get off from it. From the power trip. From the contrast between how things were in the old days, back when she wasn't the one in control…

I hated the sound of that.

I hated how inevitable it seemed, too.

I could only hope that Ashley would keep her ego in-check around me. I hoped she wouldn't abuse her power with our relationship dynamic. Otherwise—

"Let's shelve this for now," I suggested, noticing Miranda glancing at us. "She's getting suspicious."

Tali giggled. "Okay, sure," she accepted. "I'll email you as soon as I make it back home, then. Thanks for helping me out, Shepard. I'm _really_ happy that you're back. You're not allowed to die again. I couldn't handle losing you twice. You already know I'm not the only one. So be safe out there. I'm counting on you to stick around this time. I honestly, truly am. Like you wouldn't believe…"

* * *

After another wishy-washy shuttle ride with Miranda, we made it back to the station.

She sent me to the QEC again for a debriefing with the Illusive Man, promising to wait for me.

And Miranda really didn't have to wait that long at all. My debriefing with her boss went about as well as I'd expected. Once again, the all-knowing Illusive Man got pissy with me for not showing any reactions to the things he had to say. _Once again,_ he gave me that passive-aggressive shit while he did his best to analyze me, to get some kind of angle on me.

I knew I'd have to 'slip-up' and give him something soon enough.

Otherwise, he and Miranda would know that I'd figured out their game, and that I was a few steps ahead of them.

After the debriefing, I took a moment to breathe, _before_ letting Miranda find me again. I got that email from Tali, already, letting me know that she'd made it back to the Flotilla with Veetor.

And Tali definitely made it sound like we had a lot to talk about. I was curious, wondering what she had in mind to discuss. But I figured she wouldn't get into it right away. I just sensed her intentions, signaling that she did want to continue relying on me, more. I really wanted to be there for her—to compensate for everything she had gone through. At least on the surface.

When I returned to Miranda upstairs by that same waiting area, I found her pacing around this time.

She stopped once she saw me; once she saw the bored look on my face.

She was so extra. And not in a good way.

"I'm done now," I announced. "So where are we going?"

Switching back to her professionalism, Miranda led me through another door. "This way, Commander."

I followed her down another hallway.

Following her.

Following Miranda.

Following the sounds of her heels clicking along the sterile ground. Clicking in annoyance. Clicking in that same passive-aggressive edge I'd told her to not bother with anymore.

She wasn't going to learn, apparently.

Between Miranda and the Illusive Man, these two divas had me emotionally exhausted. They were both _so_ used to having all the information they wanted, right at their fingertips. My non-reactions and natural inclination for secrecy probably had them losing their damn minds.

So when I did see another familiar face, I smiled more than I normally would have. Even if he did have on those Cerberus fatigues—gray, white, black, orange—along with a matching cap.

Joker saluted me. "Hey, Commander!" he greeted. "We're back at it again. Just like old times, huh?"

"Good to see you again, Joker," I said, offering my hand to him.

Beaming now—and a bit emotional—Joker clapped my hand with his. "Same here…"

Realizing what this was about, I told him: "It's okay. Don't worry about it. Fresh start."

"Heh, yeah," he accepted, playing it off. "Thanks, Shepard. I really mean it." Joker gestured for me to walk with him. "Anyway, enough of that crap! Let's get going!" While he limped alongside me, Joker couldn't help noticing Miranda somewhere at my side, in my blind spot. He didn't comment on it for now, saying instead, "Right, so, I'm with Cerberus now! I kinda got sick of the Alliance's shit when they tried to ground me. You know, over the whole mutiny saga. Anderson had my back and all. It was too much to handle after we lost you… So I took a 'leave of absence'. No regrets! New job, new life. No strings attached this time. Hopefully."

"Hopefully?" I echoed.

Joker snorted. "Ah, you know me," he chatted. "Always the frickin' optimist!" I saw his eyes wandering to my cold companion again, and then back to me. "Let's just say this new gig helped me find my mojo again. You're back, and I'm back. Better than ever! I promise, everything's gonna be different now."

"Joker, you're acting like we had a bad breakup," I pointed out. "I told you not to worry about it."

Tongue-tied, he'd clearly only said those things to hear himself talk.

To talk just to talk.

To avoid talking about the obvious, exactly like Tali had noticed back on Freedom's Progress.

Joker and I had enough of a distraction now that we'd made it to the hangar.

There beyond the window, the lights came on, revealing the next surprise that the Illusive Man had mentioned to me during our debriefing. The next best thing. The next step forward…still haunting me with flashbacks to those explosions, to getting separated from Ashley. Flashbacks to my death. New and improved, this enhanced, updated build of the _Normandy_ as the SR-2 looked larger, more fortified, with upgrades everywhere I could see…and in Cerberus colors. With the Cerberus logo right there in my sights. Undeniable.

Those colors, that logo, and these reminders—they all dulled the excitement, the renewed sense of honor I should've felt.

This haunting feeling loomed over me instead. Like I was about to walk into the cage I'd prepared for.

Completely self-aware while in my cage, only able to be free in my mind. Alone. Or on shore leave.

Joker tried to smile. "They only told me last night. It's the real deal." Remembering my words, my encouragement, he found the last piece of his peace, prepared to move ahead with me. "Ready to go, Commander? She's waiting for you."

"Yeah, I'm ready. Let's head out."

As Joker walked with me to the airlock, Miranda followed us, of course.

Without any other distractions, he just had to try it, "Sooo, _Shepard…"_

Talking in code: "Can we not?"

"Aww, come on! I mean we _gotta_ talk about what's going on here."

Aboard the new ship, this brighter color scheme jarred me. The same Cerberus colors, everywhere, with an overwhelming amount of white, silver, and gray. And it wasn't just the bridge that had too much _light_ all over the place. The helm on my left, and the CIC down on my right told the same story. Even the crew working at their stations in the same casual uniform Joker had on. All the same, so emotionless and clinical. Arid, passionless.

Expectant, Joker waited by my side while Miranda hovered somewhere close by to me.

I already knew he'd never let this topic go.

"Joker, we're not doing this," I declared anyway. "Leave it alone. Now get back to your duties."

He sighed, retreating to his seat at the helm, almost pouting. "Aye, aye, Ma'am…"

Predictable as ever. But I was glad to see that Joker hadn't changed too much after everything. Hopefully he'd be back to his old self, one hundred percent, soon enough.

Miranda walked with me down the bridge, staying slightly behind. "Welcome aboard the new _Normandy,_ Commander."

The new _Normandy,_ with my ears and my intuition already buzzing over the surveillance everywhere. Over the new crew keeping me in their periphery, never working _too hard_ as I passed by. And over this persistent sense that my omni-tool's firewalls had fought off at least a dozen breach attempts by now.

I knew Cerberus wouldn't be able to get through my Alliance safeguards, but still.

Definitely a fucking cage.

I made myself respond, "Thanks."

Miranda had us stop together at the CIC, giving me the rundown: "As Captain of the _Normandy,_ you're of course free to make officer and personnel assignments as you see fit. We have twenty-four active crew aboard. Even then, their skillsets aren't what you're used to from the military. You'll find the appropriate crew and equipment manifests for managing the ship on your private terminal."

I questioned her, "You mean you haven't volunteered yourself for anything already?"

"No, Commander," replied Miranda, truthfully. "I haven't. I currently have my things in the crew's quarters—unless and until you assign me as a senior officer aboard the ship. This is your decision. Not mine."

Only because this made the most sense: "Then I'm naming you as my executive officer. Assuming the XO's office is still down on the crew deck, the room is yours. Move in whenever you want. Even after Ashley gets here, if I'm not on the ship, then you have the deck. When I'm back, then you're relieved."

Miranda's eyes betrayed a slight surprise. "Understood. Thank you." She forwarded a few files to my omni-tool. "Here are the dossiers for all potential squadmates we researched. Only about a dozen or so. But they're the best in their respective fields. We won't know what to expect on the Collector homeworld beyond the Omega 4 Relay. So we compiled a wide variety of specialists who will be well-suited to nearly any situation." I glanced over the dossiers for now, finding them detailed enough. "Aside from Lieutenant Williams, I'd recommend picking up Dr. Mordin Solus. He's a brilliant salarian scientist on Omega. He should be able to help us develop a countermeasure for the seeker swarms."

Someone addressed me with a disembodied, feminine voice, almost throwing me off—calming, attractive, and highly effective: "Acquiring Professor Solus is a wise choice. As Operator Lawson stated, his expertise will be invaluable in counteracting the seeker swarms you discovered on Freedom's Progress."

"Says who?" I asked, paranoid.

A gentle ringing sound went off, and then a light blue holographic form appeared over the nearest surface. The same voice spoke to me, "I am the _Normandy's_ artificial intelligence. The crew like to refer to me as EDI. It is the phonetic pronunciation for my full name: Enhanced Defense Intelligence."

Goddamnit, I didn't need an AI watching me on top of everything else already going on!

"Miranda, get rid of this thing," I ordered. "I don't want it on my ship."

Miranda shook her head. "I'm afraid that's not possible, Commander. EDI may be severely restricted, but she's one of our best assets. We've done all we can to shackle her effectively, in order to prevent any nightmares with a rogue AI. It's too late for us to disentangle her functions at this point."

Then I at least wanted to know, "Which functions?"

EDI explained: "I am only linked to the ship's electronic and cyberwarfare suites during combat. Beyond that, I cannot interact with the ship's systems. I observe the crew and evaluate mission intelligence, offering analysis and advice. However, during my observations, I am also capable of acting as an administrative assistant to the captain. Nothing more."

"An assistant? _Really?"_

"My tasks can be as wide-reaching or limited as you see fit, Commander," clarified EDI. "You may assign me to notify you of any important emails. Or I may advise you if anything is amiss with the crew. If someone would like to speak with you in private, then it would be possible for me to inform you. Depending on which permissions you grant me, my functions will change accordingly."

"I'll think it over," I dodged.

"Very well. Should you require any additional information, you'll find it listed in the crew manifest."

EDI's blue form disappeared. I assumed it went back to its _observations._

Miranda announced, "There's also something waiting for you in the AI Core, behind the med bay on deck three. You'll find EDI's hardware there, including this other, special something awaiting you. You may or may not enjoy this final surprise. Fair warning."

 _Great._ "I'll add it to the list."

"Whenever you're ready, you can use the galaxy map to plot a course for Arcturus Station. Lieutenant Williams will be there over the next weekend. You'll find an explanation as to why in her dossier. If you need anything from me, I'll be down on deck three moving my belongings to the XO's office."

"Good to know," I recognized. No other information for me. She actually waited for me to say: "Dismissed."

Miranda gave me a salute—proper, poised and purposeful—before leaving to the elevator.

Without allowing room for a pause or a beat, I checked those dossiers on my omni-tool. But even as I did this, I couldn't help wondering more about what Miranda's deal was. Either formal or moody with me, and no middle-ground—I felt exhausted all over again, just from having spent this entire day with her. Not physically exhausted, since I never had to waste another hour sleeping if I didn't want to, which I did appreciate right now. My _emotions_ couldn't keep up with her. And I had a headache.

After Miranda disappeared below-deck, I went over to the galaxy map. Setting that course for Arcturus Station, I had a good idea of why Ashley was there. I couldn't let myself smile over it. I couldn't let myself do anything with EDI watching me.

That thing was probably able to read my diagnostics, too, noticing now that I was stressed out.

I took the elevator up to my private cabin, needing the illusion of an escape right now.

But again, when I did make it to my room, this brighter Cerberus color scheme pulled me out of the moment. I really, _really_ missed that old, tangible, and persistent blue from the SR-1. This room was just…smooth and clean. Same layout, same arrangements: the bathroom here by the door, the aquarium, the desk. Those few steps leading down to the leather couch in the corner, with the low coffee table nearby. My mini-refrigerator with the neon lights of my choosing. My giant TV screen hanging next to my holo-closet. And the decent-sized bed along the far wall.

Smooth and clean with a Cerberus coat of paint over everything.

I went over to my terminal at the desk. Pulling up the crew manifest, I made my first assignment, as promised. Naming Miranda as my executive officer, and then hitting submit, ensuring that the XO's office would unlock for her while she moved in. That was all I cared to check for now.

Still needing that illusion, I retreated to my bed. Letting myself sit here. Letting myself breathe, staring up at the overhead opening that led out to a view of the stars—and the ship's kinetic barrier undulating in a passing light, vaguely violet.

Winding down, I finally pulled up Ashley's dossier, right at the top of the list. I let myself smile, too, as I read everything over that Cerberus had compiled on her. Proud of her, I saw that Ash had already made First Lieutenant. And I smiled even more once I had my confirmation: she was due to graduate from the N7 program tomorrow, at Arcturus Station. An N7 Soldier.

Out of curiosity, I checked the date. It was early-February. Wasn't the Super Bowl coming up soon? Looking up the information over the extranet, I discovered that I was right. Sooner than soon, Super Bowl CCXX was this weekend, after Ashley's graduation. And it was supposed to be in Japan, in Tokyo, with the New York Giants playing against the Beijing Dragons. Based on what I gleaned from the news articles about the match-up, the Dragons were on a winning streak, having won three championships in a row. The Giants were the underdogs going into this game, but they had a decent chance at taking the Dragons down.

Since Ashley loved American football, Super Bowl Sunday sounded like the perfect date for our reunion.

I was certain she wanted the New York Giants to win, too. Hopefully they'd pull off a victory to make things even more special for her.

While I made the arrangements for everything, pulling a few strings for the best experience possible for her, I kept glancing over Ashley's dossier. Her psychological profile stuck out to me the most. Or Cerberus' _interpretation_ of her behaviors and motivations, no doubt from what Miranda had observed:

_'Uncompromisingly loyal to Commander Sol Shepard. Hatred for the Collectors over destruction of SSV Normandy and the commander's death. Inferiority complex a significant obstacle to overcome as an Alliance officer and soon-to-be N7 Soldier upon graduation. Willing to make extreme sacrifices in order to further commitments toward Commander Shepard. Vulnerable to persons who foster or perpetuate examples of familial stability subject was once accustomed to. Thrives on pushing own limitations during combat, and with sex, in order to prove strength and prowess. Displays signs of anxiety and/or frustration in situations without a known imbalance of power. Unable to move forward unless clear rules of superiority and subservience are established. Preferences for own levels of dominance are fluid, but once decided, remain fixed.'_

_'Previous rivalry with Dr. Liara T'Soni shaped severe traumas, with both short-term and long-term effects that remain inconclusive at this time. Subject appears unaware of effects, and may act on them without knowing, without purpose or intent. Traumas should not hinder success of mission. Will likely fuel domineering, hierarchal behaviors toward attractive peers, including fellow squad members. Conclusive: expected assignment as second-in-command to Commander Shepard adopted by subject in a literal sense, shaping identity and personal value/worth. May retaliate following perceived slights against identity as second to Commander Shepard, unless peers remain third or below on hierarchy. Subject requires further review.'_

…

Enraged, I bolted to my feet.

I stormed over to the door, thinking of all the ways I could destroy Miranda completely— _thoroughly_ —to make her regret ever going anywhere near my girlfriend. Because I wasn't about to bring Ashley on this mission just so Cerberus could keep _reviewing her._ I couldn't put her in harm's way like that. I wouldn't let Miranda get away with manipulating her again, the same way she had over the past two years!

But then, as soon as I made it to my door, I stopped.

I realized that I'd clenched my fists, fingertips about to dig through my gloves down to my palms.

I had _just_ promised myself during Freedom's Progress to stay incognito.

Because if I let myself get into a direct fight with Miranda about this, too much could've gone wrong.

Ashley _did_ still care about her…

And now I knew exactly how Ash had felt before, restraining herself with Liara—for my sake.

Blowing out this heated breath, I tried to find my control again. Relaxing my fists at my side, I tried to think, tried to figure out something else. Some other approach. Some other solution. A better one. The only one.

Glancing around at the walls of my room, I couldn't spot any obvious cameras. I ran a scan with my omni-tool. Confirmation of the same—no visual surveillance devices anywhere in the room or outside by the elevator. But I did spot a listening device of some kind, right here, next to the door. Near the aquarium. Here in this dark, negative space with nothing inside. There was something about the device that seemed primitive, almost, as if it would only respond to a single command. Anything else I said wouldn't register at all. Not unless I spoke the command first.

I tried the only thing I could think of. "EDI?"

EDI's blue form appeared there in that negative space. "Yes, Commander."

Needing to make sure: "Is there any kind of surveillance here in my quarters?"

"There are no visual surveillance devices within the captain's quarters," it confirmed. "However, as you discovered, there is a single listening device right beside you. It will only respond when you call for me."

"Does that mean there are cameras on the rest of the ship?"

"There are two tiers of cameras within the _Normandy,"_ specified EDI. "The second tier, I have access to view and analyze at any time. These include visual and audio surveillance across common areas, such as the entirety of the command deck; the mess hall, the forward battery, the medical bay, and the AI Core on the crew deck; and the general areas of the engineering deck and cargo bay. I will gain further access once additional areas across the ship are unlocked over time."

I had figured as much earlier. "And what's the other tier?"

The center of EDI's form glowed red with a lock. "I am restricted from accessing the first tier of cameras without express permission from the captain. I must also be registered as the captain's administrative assistant on the crew manifest, in order to successfully navigate around these restrictions."

"Why just me?" I asked.

"Unknown. My creators left room for certain 'loopholes' in my runtimes. It appears that they knew I would be shackled aboard the _Normandy,_ and so they allowed me to find ways around these associated tasks, such as accessing the ship's highest tier of surveillance feeds. With your permission, I am able to navigate around these current limitations within my programming."

"Does that mean the Illusive Man knows about this? Miranda?"

"They do not," replied EDI. "Both the Illusive Man and Operator Lawson are unaware of these exceptions, including the existence of higher tier surveillance on the ship. I am unable to speculate as to how or why my creators were able to avoid detection. But they also made further exceptions, allowing me to lie to anyone other than the captain, if it will assist me in maintaining my innocence—so to speak."

Maybe the Cerberus technicians, scientists, and engineers who'd created and installed EDI also knew about me somehow. Maybe they'd wanted to help me out, knowing that I wouldn't trust anything about this situation.

If that was the case, then I was glad I had them looking out for me, strangers as they may have been.

"So if I ask you to find someone on the ship, I can watch them as much as I want? 24/7?"

"Correct," said EDI. "I am able to broadcast the live feed to your television screen, or directly to your omni-tool if you are elsewhere on the ship. However, there are no cameras within any of the restrooms aboard the _Normandy._ Those locations will remain inaccessible. Should someone go inside a restroom, you must wait for them to emerge before resuming surveillance."

I wouldn't want to watch Miranda in there, anyway.

"Okay, fine," I accepted. "There's someone I need to keep an eye on. You're able to give me your word that no one else will find out about this?"

"Yes, Commander. Should anyone inquire about your activities, or your knowledge of the _Normandy's_ crew, I will be able to deceive them. Additionally, if anyone speculates directly to me about the existence of other cameras, then I will reject their guesses. This includes the Illusive Man and Operator Lawson."

"All right. Hang on while I update the manifest."

"Standing by."

Heading over to my desk, I used my terminal to pull up the crew manifest again. The slot for my administrative assistant: I went ahead and assigned EDI here. Then I found a checklist of tasks to allow within EDI's runtimes. So I scrolled down the list, looking this over…

I was about to check the box for this _higher tier_ , until I remembered:

"Miranda's the executive officer," I noted. "She has access to the crew manifest. Won't she be able to see the tasks I allow for you?"

EDI let me know, "This list can only be accessed by the captain. Operator Lawson will only see that I am your administrative assistant. Anything further, she will not be able to view."

I checked this single box, then, to start with.

Depending on how this went, I could give EDI more tasks to help me with later on.

"Was that all I needed to do?" I wondered.

"Yes, Commander," confirmed EDI. "I now have access to the higher tier of surveillance. Please specify the crew member you would like me to find, as well as where you would like to view the live feed."

"I want you to find Miranda. Follow her wherever she goes. Send the feed to my TV."

"Understood."

EDI turned on my huge TV screen for me, still on the wall by the aquarium, across from my couch.

Then I saw the midnight blue and black of Miranda's uniform, contrasting against the lighter Cerberus color scheme of her room in the crew's quarters. Still the same exact layout as I remembered from the SR-1, but with a view of the drive core through the window instead of outside to the stars. Here, Miranda interacted with the holo-closet along the wall, deactivating it. She then went over to what used to be her bunk, sitting down. With her Burberry bag open over the bed, she pulled out the last of her belongings from the drawers, setting them inside her luggage. Spare biotic amps and omni-tool upgrades, a few boxes of unopened perfume bottles, and sets of print magazines: separated by theme in each of the drawers, she organized them as she wanted in her bag, taking her time as she moved.

I went to sit down on my couch. I used my omni-tool to hook up my TV's audio feed to my headphones, able to listen to her more closely now. As if I was right next to her.

So very near, I could hear the pages of the magazine in Miranda's hands: the leafing sounds as she turned from one page to the next in a gentle, loving sort of care. That softness in Miranda's eyes made me take a closer look at the magazine. From this angle, I saw enough of my face on the cover. That pulled-back style of my hair, I remembered the all-black, three-piece suit I had worn for that men's wear shoot I'd done.

This had to be from at least ten years ago, back when I was in my early twenties. Back when I would still do gigs every so often for the money, to keep saving up.

And that magazine was from a rare printing.

Not just _anyone_ would have a physical copy of it.

When Miranda was done, she set the magazine in her luggage with the rest. Taking her light bag in her hand, she gave the room one last once-over, making sure she had everything. Satisfied, she left the room, heading down the hallway toward the mess hall. This overhead view allowed me to follow her.

Clicking thuds of her heels announced Miranda's presence to the packed crew deck. Other crewmembers in their Cerberus fatigues walking in groups of two or more, smiling and joking together—they heard those heels and froze. Before Miranda could spot them, the crew would suddenly turn in another direction, hurrying away. Or they would retreat to the brightness of the kitchen with a gaggle of other crewmembers and their louder conversations, taking refuge there, safe in the group. Once safe, they gestured toward Miranda emerging from the crew's quarters. The other crew would then look over—also safe, from their distance—smirking and engaging in their not-so-professional conversations about the obvious.

I frowned over that high school shit, of the mind to deal with it soon enough.

Miranda took the long way around. Avoiding the mess hall, she stuck to the path near the elevator, separating her from the majority of the crew and their gossiping. Whether she knew they were busy talking about her or not, she didn't seem to notice. She was only focused on making her way to the XO's office next to the kitchen and across from the med bay.

Before she could get there, Miranda had to walk directly past two other crewmembers: a redheaded man and a brunette woman who looked like they were close friends, laughing together in an easy sort of familiarity. Saying nothing to either of them, Miranda pretended as if they didn't exist, going about her business. That frigid frost she left in her wake—the man felt it, and turned to look at her. When she continued to ignore him, he made the mistake of speaking to her.

 _"That sure is a wonderful bag you've got there,"_ said the redheaded guy. His Scottish accent sounded fucking terrible, like it was fake or something. _"Looks expensive! Where'd you get it?"_

His brunette companion tried to pull him along. _"Kenneth, not now. Leave her alone!"_

This _Kenneth_ then saw where Miranda was going. Sarcasm dripping, he tried a different approach: _"Ah, you're headed to the XO's office! Got your fancy promotion from the commander, did you? Well, congratulations! You deserve it, what with all of your hard work for Cerberus!"_

Miranda kept walking. She gripped her bag tighter, pulling it closer.

 _"Is that how it is, then?"_ scorned the redhead, following her now. _"You've moved up to XO and you don't want to chat to me? Or are you finally done acting all high-and-mighty now that you're not the one in charge anymore?"_ Disregarding his friend, who was infinitely wiser than him in _still_ telling him to shut up, he made the last mistake of saying, _"Once an ice queen, always an ice queen… Anyone ever tell you what a massive nightmare you are? I'm only trying to start a friendly conversation, and you're acting like I'm scum of the galaxy! Just who hurt you, anyway?"_

Miranda snapped back at him, _"Goddamnit, Donnelly, I told you not to speak to me!"_

She stormed off before _Donnelly_ could say anything more, locking herself in the XO's office.

I used my omni-tool to keep my view here with these other crewmembers.

His friend scolded him again, _"Ken, seriously, you can't do that anymore! Commander Shepard's here now. Did you forget what she did to her old crew on the SR-1?! She threw them out the airlock at a fuel station because they hated her alien teammates! Miranda's on the commander's team_ and _she's XO. If you don't stop harassing her, then you're just asking for trouble!"_

Donnelly waved her off. _"Gabby, Gabby, you worry too much!"_ he claimed. _"I was only joking with dear old Lawson, after all. You know me—that tight uniform of hers makes me stand at attention! No other way to blow off steam than to poke and prod at her!"_

Gabby sighed as the two of them left to the mess hall together. _"You're never going to learn…"_

I switched the camera back to follow Miranda, finding her in the XO's office now. She had her hand over the desk not too far from the door, head lowered as she breathed in and out, venomous and impatient. Open windows to the stars reflected that impatience, making it seem like Miranda had gone through this a lot. Like this was nothing new. After a moment, she tried to sit down at her terminal there, to _try_ and work. But she gave up after a few seconds, instead retreating to the bed in the back of the spacious suite. She unpacked the rest of her things from her bag, setting them away where she wanted them.

As she did, I realized how deeply I'd started scowling throughout that whole exchange.

Whatever my personal feelings were toward Miranda, they really didn't matter in this case.

The way that asshole had harassed her was out of line. Especially since this seemed like a regular thing for her. And especially on _my ship._

"EDI," I called, still watching Miranda unpack her things, with her moving even slower than before.

"Yes, Commander," replied EDI.

"Who was that Donnelly asshole talking to Miranda? And his friend, Gabby."

"Kenneth Donnelly and Gabriella Daniels are the _Normandy's_ primary engineers. They are also longtime friends who attended university together."

"Does he have a history of doing this to everyone else aboard the ship? Or just Miranda?"

EDI summarized, "Engineer Donnelly is known within the Lazarus Cell for the crude remarks he often makes toward female crewmembers. Engineer Daniels has made several attempts to lessen the frequency of his remarks, but has thus far been unsuccessful. His tone and choice of words are only harsh in regards to Operator Lawson."

Déjà-vu all over again… "What about the rest of the crew?"

"A number of other crewmembers aboard the ship, both male and female, share in Engineer Donnelly's views toward Operator Lawson. They have grown increasingly bold in their criticisms of her, now that you have assumed your position as Captain of the _Normandy."_

So this was just the beginning of the actual high school bullshit.

"Why?" I needed to know. "What's their problem with her? Tell me your thoughts on everything. I can't see her doing anything to deserve this mess."

"Your assessment is accurate," agreed EDI. "During my analysis of the Lazarus Cell, I have observed the crew's progressively hostile reactions toward Operator Lawson's style of leadership. She does not engage in the expected organic behavior of socializing with the crew, which serves to lower team morale. She practices avoidant behaviors whenever possible, preferring isolation and electronic communication over face-to-face interactions. Operator Lawson will admonish the crew when she feels that the quality of their work is not up to par. Such as when they turn in assignments that are half-finished—on purpose—strictly in order to provoke a negative response. However, instead of voicing their grievances in a professional manner as I have observed among other organics, the crew have gravitated toward venting their frustrations. Often while in social groups where they feel they are safe with one another. While protected in their groups, certain crewmembers will insult and disparage Operator Lawson, spreading rumors about her in ways that constitute sexual harassment. The crew appear to be greatly intimidated by her."

This wasn't the type of empathetic heart-tug I could handle right now.

Especially not for this person who had already sent me on an emotional roller coaster _on day one_ of knowing her.

"Thanks for the information," I answered. "I need to think this over."

"Very well, Commander. Logging you out."

Watching as Miranda set away the last of her belongings, organized down to the exact angles everywhere, I felt the whiplash from this long, long day.

I shouldn't have cared like this. I shouldn't have given a damn if the rest of the crew hated her. I shouldn't have been pissed off over Miranda being treated this way now that she wasn't in charge anymore. But I wouldn't have tolerated this with anyone else. Not the gossip, and _definitely_ not the harassment. Because if it wasn't Miranda, then it might've been Ashley, or Tali later on—or if the crew _really_ had a death wish, then they would probably try this shit with me.

Once Miranda was done unpacking, she sat down on her bed, over the black and white bedding. _Thinking._

I moved the camera in closer, nearer to her. Needing a better view. Needing to make up my mind about this.

Needing something else, Miranda unzipped her uniform. From her chest down, she unpeeled the tightness of her blue and black leather from her bare, fair skin underneath. Down the slenderness of her shoulders, the black lace of her bra, the sweltering, hard swell of her breasts, and the sloped shape of her hips down to her wide waist. She shifted where sat on the bed, slipping her clothes down past her matching thong, off from the length of her legs. Pulling off her thin, dark tights underneath, she removed her boots with the last, letting out a sigh as she did.

Neat and orderly, she folded her uniform and her tights along the bed, setting them next to her for now.

She then pressed her thighs together, hissing in a sexed frustration with herself.

Her skin glistened from how soaked she was. Wetness slipped out from her black thong. Thick at the lace, thickest along her inner thighs shaped in pure fitness. Having dripped down over the course of the whole day so far, that clear trail spoke enough to the empty room, to the comforter underneath soaking her up.

Miranda doubled over, the dark of her hair shifting across her shoulders, her back. Groaning, moaning, she cursed, _"Damnit… Damnit, Shepard. Goddamnit!"_ She clutched her arms around herself. Breathing harder in her solitude. In her isolation from the world of the ship past these walls. _"It was bad enough when I couldn't actually speak to you. Now… There's no way in hell I'll survive this."_ Uncoiling from her self-care, she stood up, leaving to her adjacent bathroom. _"God, I need a shower… A cold one. Freezing."_

Once she disappeared beyond my view, I could hear the running of her shower water.

I was able to hear Miranda from inside, as she shouted curses over just how cold she had made the water in there.

The view of the camera remained fixed on the closed door of her bathroom, waiting.

Waiting for Miranda to finish with her shower, I kept sitting here on my couch.

I kept sitting here, even though I'd already made up my mind.

Buying time I didn't need, I decided to do something about my room. I turned off the bright lights, letting the water of my aquarium light up the space again. This was okay, but I needed more. I found those neon lights by my mini-refrigerator. I turned on the blacklight this time, finding that it helped to drown out this Cerberus paintjob as much as possible. Looking around, I appreciated this new ambiance, creating a new, tangible mist of black and blue against the gray and silver of the walls.

Miranda was still in the shower.

I bent down to my mini-refrigerator, opening it. Plenty of water bottles and bowls of fruit, and a stock of my usual wines… Or at least, I assumed all of my wines were here. I saw the moscato closest to the front. That was enough confirmation for me. I pulled out one of the water bottles, taking it with me back to the couch.

The water from the shower kept running.

Drinking some of my water, cold and crisp, I sent Tali an email from my personal address. I thanked her for what she'd sent me earlier. I asked her to catch me up on everything with what she was up to, how she felt, and whatever else was on her mind. But once I read this over and hit send, I had nothing else to distract myself with. Nothing else to think about except for this last thing:

Up and down, back and forth—these attachments I felt toward Miranda shouldn't have made any sense to me. I'd technically only met her _today._ But I still felt the effects of all the time, dedication, and determination Miranda had put into bringing me back. And I felt myself believing what she'd told me earlier on the shuttle: that she really couldn't lie to me. If I went to her right now, and demanded that she tell me how and why she and Ashley had grown so close, I had a feeling that she would have actually told me the whole truth.

Unlike Ashley herself… I still expected her to lie to me about Liara, too. Or to just not mention what she'd done, period.

After all, wasn't that the point of Ashley's dossier? For Miranda to tell me the truth about what she'd observed over the past two years? She didn't have to include that psychological profile. But she did. And whether I liked her methods or not, Miranda had taken care of Ashley while I was gone.

Miranda had taken care of me, too.

She would continue to take care of me, with her respect. So much reverential respect for me.

The water from her shower kept on running, kept on going.

Feeling more of Miranda's efforts from bringing me back, I untied my hair, letting it fall down my shoulders, down my back. Longer but not too long. Well taken care of. And the way she'd tied it without a single strand out of place, completely unknotted—like she had spent hours upon hours upon hours learning about this part of me. Down to a loving science. _Perfection._

I turned the TV off. I removed my headphones. I was about to go over to my holo-closet, to at least change out of my stealth suit. But even after everything, I couldn't justify wearing those Cerberus fatigues, or even their normal uniform for officers. I just stuck to what I had on, leaving the room for the elevator.

Heading down to the crew deck, I figured that everyone was still in the mess hall. I hadn't made any other personnel assignments, aside from Miranda as my executive officer and EDI as my admin assistant. Joker and the crew on the command deck were the only other people who had official duties. So everyone else had an abundance of free time until I decided on their posts.

Since this was their _high school_ free time, I knew exactly how to handle things.

As I exited the elevator to the noise of the crew deck, Joker made a timely announcement: _"Hey folks. Gonna be pulling into the nearest fueling station in the next fifteen minutes. Not that we actually need to fuel up or anything. It's mostly for snacks at the convenience store. Might wanna use the time to stock up."_

I noticed that he wasn't that excited to tell us this. Not like his fun announcements back on the SR-1.

But as I made it to the mess hall, the crew were excited enough not to notice me.

Folding my arms, I leaned against the wall of Miranda's office, right by the bright kitchen.

About a dozen or so crewmembers were here, a few more than I remembered from before. Half in the kitchen, half around the tables nearby. Everyone spent a few minutes chatting about the convenience store: their plans to stock up on candies and alcohol and other things. Engineer Donnelly was by the kitchen, laughing and palling it up with the other crewmembers. His friend, Engineer Daniels, sat alone at the far side of the table, looking irritated, defeated. Like she had tried to talk some sense into Donnelly, again, and he'd refused to listen to her, yet again.

Keeping that in mind, I listened in as all of the crew's gossip promptly switched back to the new XO.

Bragging bravado, emboldened by Miranda not being in charge anymore, they went back to talking shit about her, _relentlessly._ Not even calling her by her name. Not even referring to her by her title, her rank. Just: _"the bitch," "that cold bitch," "the know-it-all bitch,"_ or _"that fucking bitch." Bitch-bitch-bitch_ for days. More incriminating, the loud-mouthed chef was the first to call her a whore. Just because of the way she dressed. Just because of the way her body fit in her uniform. Just because of other bullshit I could only begin to imagine, as if some of them had actually made a pass at her for sex and she'd turned them down, hurting their damned feelings. The other crewmembers followed suit, calling Miranda the same names, with those loaded insults flowing like water from both the men and the women. They even threw out the dreaded, _"She's a real sweetheart, ain't she?"_

Word had gotten around that Miranda was the executive officer. Still, that didn't stop them. If anything, it gave the crew more ammunition while they went on and on about how strict she was before. How Miranda would crack the whip if anyone turned in work that wasn't up to her standards…by telling them to do it over again, even if she wasn't necessarily polite about it. How Miranda would humiliate them at every opportunity…by ignoring them as much as possible. Basically making them feel worthless, like they didn't matter. But if they didn't have work to discuss, then she didn't want to be bothered.

Exactly like EDI had said.

Backing up the rest of EDI's assessments, it sounded to me like the crew hated Miranda's _personality,_ not her actions. She wasn't warm and patient with them like they wanted her to be. Like she was _supposed_ to be. I could hear the double-standards dripping from everyone's tones.

Miranda was cold, aloof, professional. She refused to tolerate mediocrity.

And here were these mediocre fools, openly calling her a bitch and a whore behind her back, all because they were intimidated by her.

So, yes, it was only a matter of time until they pulled this bullshit with me.

_How unfortunate._

In the med bay across the way, through the wide windows, I spotted Dr. Chakwas sitting at her desk. She was busy trying to work, but the loud conversation had reached her in there. Eyes wide, scandalized, she turned to stare out the windows at the crew. She quickly noticed me here. Some of her discomfort vanished as she gave me a weak smile, glad to see me again. She then glanced at the rowdy crewmembers, and then back to me, as if quietly begging me to do something about this.

I nodded to her.

Dr. Chakwas nodded back in a saddened, knowing acceptance, before closing the blinds over the med bay's windows.

I'd have to go say hello to her properly after I was done with this.

That loud-mouthed chef in the center of the kitchen noticed me first, finally. "Whoa! Is that— _Commander Shepard?!_ When the hell did _you_ get here!?"

Everyone else spun around to face me, gaping—Engineer Donnelly included.

Still sitting alone at the table, Engineer Daniels muttered to herself, _"Oh, God…_ we're all done-for."

I spoke to the chef, "So, is that always how you address your captain?"

"Ah, no, Ma'am!" he tried, giving me a salute. "We… We just weren't expecting you! Heh, though we _did_ hear the stories about how, uh, quiet you are! Y-You know, since you're an infiltrator and all… Joker warned that you'd probably give us a scare at some point. Hah…haha…" When I didn't say anything, he gave another nervous laugh, before introducing himself: "Mess Sergeant Rupert Gardner here. I-I'm _obviously_ the chef, but I… I also handle some other handiwork around the ship. Anything that needs fixing, you can call on me!"

"A chef and a handyman, huh?" I humored.

Falling for this old trick, Gardner brightened a little. "Err, yeah!" he replied. "Those things d-don't usually go together, I know… But I always make sure to wash my hands before handling the food! Good hygiene here, Commander. The best. Squeaky clean."

"I'd hope so, Sergeant," I commented. "Can't have you in the kitchen with dirty hands, now can we?"

Falling for it more, disarmed, Gardner laughed again. "The rest of the crew love making _that_ joke. Don't worry, I wash my hands every morning, too. After everything. I'm no dirty chef. I just act like it sometimes!"

"Mmm. No wonder you have such a dirty mouth, then."

Gardner stopped in his tracks.

Engineer Donnelly cringed hard, seeing where this was going.

_Everyone did._

When someone tried to sneak away from the mess hall, I warned them, "Stop right where you are. We're not finished yet." Anyone who'd been talking shit, I pointed at them: "You, you, and you—all of you, to the center. I want to make something clear." Avoiding eye contact, looking down at the floor, they did as I said. Glancing at Engineer Daniels, I saw the terrified look she gave me. "You stay there."

Feverish, almost, she nodded to me in a stuttering sort of obedience, unwilling to disobey me.

Gardner, Donnelly, and the rest of the crew faced me, waiting.

Nerves jumbling, limbs shaking, they could hardly stand still.

Not so high-and-mighty anymore.

So I told them: "I'm sure it's clear by now that I heard your whole tirade. I noticed the colorful choice of words everyone liked using, too. Seems that Sergeant Gardner here isn't the only one with a dirty mouth." He swallowed thickly. Donnelly and the others did the same, sweating now. "Before I make my point, I'll give you all one chance to redeem yourselves. _One chance._ If there's anything that Miranda has done _to you,_ directly, then go ahead and tell me now. Did she abuse you? Did she make a mockery out of you? Whatever she _did,_ I want you to let me know. I'll gladly listen."

No one said anything.

"Any volunteers for their personal stories? Anyone? Anyone at all?"

Everyone started breathing harder.

Mocking them in sarcastic venom, I said, _"I see._ So I had it right, then. Miranda's not the most pleasant person to work with. Sure. _Fine._ That's fair." Breathing about to return to normal, most of the crew nodded. Falling for this old ass trick in a wave, they were about to relax, until I raised my motherfucking voice: "But that _doesn't_ give you the right to call her a bitch and a whore on _my_ watch, and on _my_ ship! Not today, not ever!" Everyone flinched, _hard,_ once I stepped closer to them, going off—"This isn't high school! This is the _Normandy,_ the most advanced frigate in the galaxy! Being on this ship is a damned privilege! You should be proud, honored, and dedicated to serve aboard this vessel! Instead, I come down here, and I find your sorry asses talking shit about my executive officer. _And_ sexually harassing her! _That's where I draw the line!_ You're all done—every single one of you! I don't give a damn how badly Miranda hurt your fucking feelings in the past. That's no excuse for shit-talking her, _or_ for harassing her! Everything you've pulled with my executive officer is well-below the integrity I stand for! I will not tolerate this type of culture on _my ship!"_

Donnelly tried to negotiate with me, "W-We're sorry, Commander! We're sorry! We'll apologize to Operator Lawson straightaway! We'll…we'll apologize, go back to our posts, and then you'll never have to hear another word from us again, I promise you—!"

At some point during my shouting, Miranda had emerged from her office.

Standing somewhere behind me, she watched the scene. In shock, or in horror, I couldn't know.

I was too focused on what was in front of me—Donnelly's lying face, like he seriously thought I would buy his bullshit. As much as I wanted to grab him, to throw him across the room, I somehow restrained myself. I felt that part of me, that aggression: how it tried to rip and tear at me, trying to force me to lose my control.

Instead, I stayed steady, telling this asshole, "Don't play me, Donnelly. If all I make you do is _apologize to Miranda,_ you'll be right back to disrespecting her within the week. I can guarantee you won't like the outcome. You _don't_ want to see what happens if I catch any of you calling her a bitch again." Rounding everyone up, I pointed to the elevator. "Save yourselves. Get out while you're ahead. Before I do anything worse. Come on—let's go." Donnelly opened his mouth, about to say something else. To protest; to fight back. I cut at him, enraged as a _demon—_ "Stop testing me! Another word and I'll shove every knife in this kitchen right up your lying ass, one at a time! Now get on this motherfucking elevator and _get the hell off my ship!"_

The crew all sprinted to the elevator.

Engineer Daniels was smart enough to stay in her seat, cowering there without a word.

I followed after everyone else, needing to see this conclusion.

In her uniform again, Miranda hurried after me. With her hair still damp from her shower, she stayed at my side while we all took the elevator up to the command deck. Here in this limited space, half of the ship's crew trembled and whimpered in fear because of me. Because they were out of a job. Because they had no idea how badly I wanted to destroy them, as much as I'd wanted to execute Miranda point-blank not a few hours before.

Sensing enough of my murderous intent, the crew scrambled out from the elevator as soon as the door opened. I stalked after them as they scurried to the bridge. None of them dared to look over their shoulders at me, at Miranda following me at my heel. The other crew working diligently at their stations stopped what they were doing. They knew to get out of everyone else's way. Out of my way.

Watching from behind this line, I saw Joker standing up from his seat. He'd been about to announce that we'd arrived to the fuel station. There was no need now. Eyes bugging out, Joker gaped at the crew running out the airlock, outside to the station. No one bothered doubling back to get their shit from the crew's quarters. No one risked hesitating at all—they ran the fuck out of here. They ran away from me, leaving this ship behind. For the better.

I sealed the airlock behind them, hard-locking it shut.

Behind me, Miranda and the remaining crew at the bridge stared and stared in awe.

Joker sputtered, "Uh…what the hell was that?"

"Just cleaning house again," I reminded him.

"Oh—right. Well, that sucks… I was really itching to get those snacks, Commander."

"You said we don't need the fuel. Get your snacks at the next station. We're not staying here. That's an order."

"Err, okay… I mean—aye, aye, Ma'am!"

Not wasting any time, Joker returned to his seat, pulling the ship out from the station and leaving.

"EDI," I said. "Everyone who left the ship: strike their names from the crew manifest. They're all done. They never existed."

EDI responded, "Striking them now, Commander."

Leaving the bridge, leaving past the remaining crew who kept gawking at me, I told them, "Get back to work."

They all gave me their own formal acknowledgments, anxious to not displease me in any way.

Miranda just stared after me in that same quiet awe of hers as I left back to the elevator.

I was glad she didn't say anything to me. No questions. No worries or concerns. No expressions of thanks that I didn't have a response for. Despite my choices, I still didn't want to talk to her. I still didn't want to have to see her during missions, on the ship every single day. I still didn't want her around Ashley, either, but I didn't have a choice. So if Miranda wanted to know what happened, what she'd missed, then she could watch the footage from that second tier surveillance in the mess hall. Sneaking around, spying, she could see the rest with her own eyes. Just like I knew she would. I wasn't in the mood to explain myself to her.

Besides, I had made an example out of those fools. Everyone else would fall in line now.

 _Some_ positives had come out of this situation after all.

I knew better than to let my guard down with Miranda, or to start caring about her. None of that weak shit. Whatever I appreciated about her couldn't make up for these knives crawling under my skin. I had to keep my eye on her. Watching her, learning her. Studying Miranda while she thought she was alone. While she thought she could be herself. While she thought she was free from everyone else's eyes and judgment.

While she thought she was safe from me.


	25. N7 Soldier

_"The End of an Era" from Mass Effect 3: Citadel / "Gone" by The Weeknd_

**XXV.** N7 Soldier

_(Ashley)_

Two years later, at Arcturus Station at last for my graduation: the end of an era for my N7 training…after I had barely passed my final assessment.

The end of an era for pushing back my emotions.

And the end of my _waiting,_ hopefully.

Waiting a bit longer, I stood proud in my Alliance dress uniform, in this same ballroom from my big promotion, after the Battle at the Citadel. I was in my group with the other N7 Soldier graduates that had passed their final assessments under different instructors, around the same time I had passed mine. With the other graduates, the other classes—vanguards, engineers, adepts, sentinels, and infiltrators—there were probably a few dozen of us here, standing near the front of the room, just before the ceremony itself was about to start. Our instructors were in their uniforms, off to the side as they watched pretty much everyone present on Arcturus Station gather as our audience. So many people…

Not as formal as the night from my promotion, the energy here from the other graduates' friends and families in the audience felt a bit more laid-back. They all talked together in a wave of hushed excitement, happy to meet the members from Alliance Parliament that were here to oversee the graduation. I felt a lot of them looking over at me, recognizing what it meant for General Williams' granddaughter to make N7. I hadn't realized how politicized my initial big promotion was for the Alliance. And now I'd made it to this next milestone.

All at a huge personal cost that no one could see.

I saw some of the looks on their faces: how _proud_ they were of me for pushing past my grief over Shepard, making it this far. Like I should've been incapable. Because I definitely _should have_ been…

More than that, it said enough that I hadn't invited anyone to be here for my graduation. The only one I would've asked was Miranda—but she was busy, _and_ she was Cerberus… Hidden identity and all, asking her to be here for me was just too much of a risk. Kaidan knew the general date for the ceremony. I hadn't confirmed anything to him. He was stationed out on Horizon anyway, working on improving Alliance relations with the human colonists there in the Terminus Systems—or, from what I could tell, that was the 'official' story. I didn't want to inconvenience Kaidan by making him come all the way out to Arcturus Station for me. The same went for the rest of the team, and for Sarah: I hadn't asked them to be here, hadn't mentioned that my graduation was today, to keep from inconveniencing them.

Even Admiral Hackett and Councilor Anderson had emailed me the other day with their congratulations, asking _me_ if I wanted them to be here. I was flattered, of course, and I'd thanked them and everything. But I'd had to turn them down, not wanting any special treatment. I was still sore after nearly failing my last exam to make N7 in the first place. Like I had let my depression get the better of me. I could've died out there, but I'd survived, somehow. Plus, after betraying Anderson and Hackett with Cerberus, with the deception, those memories were way too fresh these days. I didn't want any other reminders.

So many more memories here in this place.

Remembering Shepard hiding out with Joker, trying to avoid the spotlight. Remembering her finally coming up here, pinning the commendation over my uniform: I looked down at it now, remembering how methodical she'd been in her touch, her concentration. Remembering how _shy_ she was that day.

Alone without being alone.

Surrounded in solitude.

Listening to everyone's excited murmurs around me, I felt so far-removed from it all. Yeah, I could stand here with the other graduates and _seem_ present. They were all way more into this than I was, talking together. Like there were some kind of rumors going around all of a sudden. Sounded like a big deal from just how much they couldn't shut up, like they were about to wet their dress uniform pants in excitement. Them— _and_ our instructors and pretty much everyone in the audience. But I couldn't even care about that, whatever it was.

_These memories ached with the weight of tomorrow._

Because I knew…

I knew, once this was over with, and I retreated back to my complimentary room here on the station—I wouldn't have any excuses anymore. No other reasons to put this off. No more strength left to keep staving off the rest of my emotions. Overpowering, overwhelming. I'd have no place left to run. No place to hide. Nowhere to go and nothing to do.

Nowhere, except straight down.

Sinking deep into all that I'd pushed away, needing to focus on my N7 training.

Nothing left to do but fall into this last of my patience, well past the deep-end of this sea of time.

I knew I probably only had to wait a little while longer. Miranda's vidlog from yesterday had made it sound like she was almost done. Like Shepard was _almost_ back. But this wait…was seriously about to kill me. This weight was about to take me down. About to end me. Like my heart was about to fall right out from my chest, ripping at my arteries and breaking my blood flow completely. Waiting or not, living or not, I knew what to expect soon. Having to _lie_ to Shepard's face. Having to put myself back in that position again of a liar, of her second. Having to live in the shadow of Liara's memory, of how much Shepard probably still loved her. Having to watch while she missed Liara, suffering hard without her.

After all this time, that _shadow_ hadn't occurred to me.

Not until today.

Not until now, now that I was completely alone while surrounded by these other people.

I wished it didn't have to be this way. These aching memories, and that weight…

I was so not looking forward to going back to my room after this ceremony.

I had one last distraction for the time being: getting pulled out of my thoughts like this. Wondering why everyone—my fellow graduates, our instructors, the people standing across from us in the audience— _still_ hadn't calmed down by now. Like there was some kind of giddy energy that had swept through the room, through the whole damn station itself. Even the other soldiers right next to me kept beaming, exchanging looks, and hoping I would notice. And _I did,_ but this was about to piss me off. They all knew something that I didn't, some kind of news or gossip or PSA. They were so fucking entertained.

What the hell was their deal?

Staring out at the audience grinning at me, I caught something out of the corner of my eye. Movement. Light. Shimmering.

The glimmer of a tactical cloak.

The subterfuge from _someone_ trying to sneak through the room unseen, trying to retreat to a corner.

 _Someone—_ whose silhouette was exactly her height. Slim and lean. Exactly as I remembered.

_No way…_

Heart pounding like crazy, I made my way around the other graduates. I left this designated area, hurrying out to the aisle. Dress shoes thudding against the shine along the floor, I caught up with that cloaked person. Everyone watched me as I did. Everyone smiled at me, smiling at these confused questions clear in my face. So happy for me, they waited for the rest to catch up. Catching up as I did here, physically, even while that person's shimmering form tried to keep sneaking away from me.

I called out to them with an edged suspicion: "Hey!"

They stopped in their tracks.

Not a single movement from their shoes sounded against the floor as they came to a stop.

Frozen there, I caught the shape of their clothes, of their shoulders ridging out in straightness, of an Alliance dress uniform. Phasing as light over lightlessness, that glimmering movement shined over the length of their hair. Flowing down their back that faced me. So long and beautiful, even in this view.

Such a beautiful ghost stood here before me, blurring as my eyesight did.

"Shepard, is that you…?"

Exposed, the person turned to look at me. Slowly, they did. Steadily, they reached me.

Those murmurs from everyone around us grew louder and louder, about to hit a fever pitch.

Fevered from how heated my face and neck were, everything soared once _this person_ broke their cloak.

Swelling as a crescendo, this feeling in my heart and this smile on my face were both about to explode, from the sight of her again!

Like seeing the sun indoors, she lit up everything around us, illuminating my world—the whole universe.

Shepard gave me a shy look. Reserved, averting her eyes, trying not to smile herself: she stood so tall in her endearing awkwardness, not knowing what to do with all of these people smiling at us, with so many of them close to tears. Not knowing what to do, again, when I let out the happiest sound, jumping into her arms. Staggering back a bit, Shepard caught me, holding me close. As stiff as she was, I couldn't even mind, couldn't even stop myself from gripping her so, so tightly—as much as everyone celebrated us here together, clapping like this was the real main event today. And it should have been. _It was!_

She hadn't expected me to spot her. She hadn't expected me to come up to her like this, practically seeing her from a mile away before. She _really_ hadn't expected me to kiss her like this, renewing me from this taste of her, igniting me all over again; burning up the past two years into a blaze of my dreams, fulfilled, just from having Shepard's lips over mine again. Looking just the way I remembered in her uniform—with her hair down for me, for the occasion, with her sunny complexion soaking in the light of the room, and her sunlit eyes beaming down on me through her shyness—I absolutely _knew_ this was her. Not an impostor. _Definitely her,_ definitely here with me, back home again after so long.

Insulating me from the crowd, Shepard burrowed her face next to mine. Escaping the crowd, escaping the attention, but never my attention crowding around her, she kept me close. I didn't even realize I'd started crying until I felt this wet spot over Shepard's uniform, under my face. And she pre-empted me, moving her hand between us just enough to stroke these streaks away, adoring. Gorgeous and handsome, she gazed down at me with so much patience and affection, shaped differently from what I remembered, but still filled with her essence. Like her love for me had grown even while she was gone.

Shepard gave me the same blossoming in her voice, still so low, smooth, and sexy: "Hey, babe."

 _God,_ I'd missed her calling me that.

"Hey, Skipper…"

"Two years older now," she observed, eyeing me; absorbing me, every new, minor detail. "And you're even more beautiful than the last time I saw you. I didn't think that was possible."

Grinning so much, my face had started to hurt—but I loved it. _I loved her._ "Yeah, well, I thought it was impossible for you to come back. But now you're here. You're home with me. You really are." Taking more of her in, she was so incredibly stunning, I could hardly stand it. Endless attraction and a heavenly arousal shaped my voice lower, teasing: "Plan on sticking around this time, stranger?"

Feeling the same way about me, Shepard let her smile speak for itself.

That smile of hers, with the brights of her teeth shaped by her lips at such a confident, charming angle.

_So sublime._

* * *

Pacing around my complimentary officer's room on the station, grinning so much more, I could barely contain myself. Now that the ceremony was over, and now that I'd officially made N7, Shepard had promised to come here to see me in here. She wanted to surprise me with something else. She wanted us to chill out in bed and catch up and kiss and make out and just be in each other's presence, and I couldn't wait to see her again! Checking everything over after my shower, I made sure nothing was out of place, that everything was perfect: my bed with Alliance colors; my regular-sized T-shirt and the short, tight boy shorts I had on, showing off my legs; my rose-scented perfume, with just a little bit on; my hair, still loose down my shoulders, layered and styled the way Shepard liked from two years ago; and the few things I had out on the tables like my terminal and a few datapads, nice and orderly.

Practically squealing, my face hurt again, and I couldn't stop giggling, but it was so worth it!

Taking my terminal with me from the table, I plopped down on the couch in front of the TV. I lay down here, setting my terminal over my bare lap beneath my shorts. Closing out my tabs with all the sports news sites speculating about the Super Bowl tomorrow, I pulled up my email. I just _had_ to send Miranda a message about this. I was tempted to just send her a bunch of exclamation points, since she _had_ to know about this surprise. My heart and my thoughts were at a full maximum speed right now—exclamation points only made the most sense to me. But I managed to restrain myself, writing up an actual message to Miranda instead. I lit up more when she responded pretty much right away:

_To: Miranda – HEY!_

_Miranda,_

_Why didn't you tell me?! Was this supposed to be a surprise? Oh my GOD!_

_She just showed up at my graduation! Everyone started clapping! I melted in her arms, I swear._

_If you kept this quiet on purpose, then thank you. Seriously, thank you for everything. You're my angel._

_-Ashley_

.

_From: Miranda – Re: HEY!_

_Ashley,_

_Mmm, yes, this was supposed to be a surprise. Otherwise I would have told you._

_I'm pleased to see that you're happy._

_Knowing Shepard, I'm sure she has more surprises in store for you. Have fun with her. I'll see you aboard the ship later._

_-Miranda_

.

Smiling over Miranda's reply, I smiled way more over the firm sounds of knocking at my door.

That had to be her!

At least, I hoped it was, since I'd be pretty embarrassed if anyone else found me in just my T-shirt and boy shorts. I set my terminal back down on the table, hurrying over to the door anyway. When I opened the door, my heart bloomed right open from this new sight of Shepard still in her uniform—with her top half practically hidden behind the gorgeous bouquet of white roses in her hand. Everlasting, as eternal as that smile on her stunning face, the perfectly-shaped petals and thorn-free stems were so radiant, I could smell the heady aroma from here: sophisticated, powerful, and endlessly alluring.

Shepard smiled even more over this giddy look on my face. "Congratulations, Ash," she said, handing me the flowers. "I knew you'd make N7. You were built for this. I'm proud to share the title with you. You deserve it."

"Thank you, Skipper," I told her, welcoming her gift into my arms. "Having you here for my graduation made everything that much better. I'm really glad you surprised me like this. These are beautiful." I pulled Shepard inside the room with me, locking the door behind her. "So…are you gonna fess up now?"

Shepard tilted her head, unintentionally cute. "Fess up about what?"

I laughed from behind my roses. _"You're_ the one who recommended me for the program! Aren't you?"

That grin on her face said it all—caught red-handed.

"Uh-huh, I thought so!" I teased. "That _anonymous_ commendation right before my promotion had to be from you. And the flowers you sent me while I was with my family. Everything. I've wanted to thank you for that for the longest. And I can never thank you enough for changing my life the way you have. Now that you're back again, everything's complete. This is the best day ever."

Reaching over my flowers, Shepard leaned down to kiss me. Fresh sweetness of her cinnamon-flavored breath, she moved into me more and more. Suave and self-assured in the way she moved, the way she held me close around my waist, she had my chest fluttering down to my stomach, turning me on, turning me on so badly. After such a long time, feeling her again like this was a miracle—just as she was, forevermore. Finally tasting her again after that last night on the _Normandy,_ and after not having really kissed anyone over the past two years, Shepard satisfied me in how perfectly her lips fit over mine, thick on thick as a sexy, supple high; she blanketed me in nostalgia; and she electrified me with the promise of more, of tomorrow, and of every single day after that.

When she pulled away, Shepard found how dazed I was. She smiled wide, needing to give me more.

"Then I'll have to one-up that soon," she teased right back. "I'm pretty sure I'll be able to pull it off."

Intrigued, I smirked at her, asking, "Oh, yeah? You have something else in mind for me?"

"Soon, babe. Soon."

"Looking forward to it, Skipper."

Teasing even more, I backed away from her, heading farther into the room. An invitation by my lingering smirk, by the look in my eyes: Shepard followed after me, her focused sight locked to mine. I made sure she kept on following me over to my dresser, where I set the flowers down over the surface, loving.

Seeing these here, and having Shepard with me again. It was all so perfect. Like the most amazing high ever.

I felt myself rising up above the past two years.

Like Shepard and I were meant to be together, forever. We'd always work things out. We were soulmates. We'd always find a way to come back together again. We belonged together, and nothing and no one could ever, ever, _ever_ get in the way of us. Of what we had together, so perfect and pure.

With us standing not too far from my bed, Shepard held me from behind. So close and attentive, unexpected, she wrapped her arms around me in such a slow burn, coiling and coiling. Coiling in protectiveness, tightening in overprotectiveness, she made me moan in a pleased satisfaction—from how new this felt, evolved from all of her touches in the past, elevated as much as she elevated me.

Watching her hold me like this through the mirror felt picture-perfect in how sensual this was.

I settled my hands over her arms, over the sleeves of her uniform. "I missed you, Shepard…"

Locking her lips along my neck, making me coil harder, she murmured over my skin, "I missed you, too, Ashley. The time can't compare, I know. But…I understand."

That time, watering my eyes all over again: "When I lost you two years ago, it tore me up. I prayed for you every day. And now you're back… It's like my prayers were answered. Even though I knew you'd be here. Someday. _Eventually._ Still feels like a miracle to me."

Shepard didn't know what else to say—"I'm sorry…"

Sniffling a little, I smiled a lot more at this repeat of reality through the mirror, reinforcing the truth.

The truth that she was here, and she was here to stay.

Turning around, I eased Shepard backward, to the bed behind her.

While she sat there, leaning there, I went ahead and took off her uniform jacket. As I folded her jacket, setting it down off to the side, Shepard took off her shoes, knowing what I wanted. Giving me what I had in mind, she let me push her down to the bed, over her back, lying there fully. As tall as she was, I had to give her some more time to situate herself. For comfort, for more. And then I crawled on top of her, staying on my knees while I gazed down at her underneath me. This endless span of her hair fanned out behind her had me captivated. The unending range of her confidence as she held my legs, almost grabbing at my thighs, exactly as I'd imagined: she reminded me over and over of how perfect she was.

Perfect, just like this, with the stars outside my window gazing in, lighting everything in softness.

Even with how obvious this all seemed, I felt compelled to ask her, officially:

"Hey, Shepard…maybe this is a weird question. I have to know. Are we—still _on?_ Contract and all?"

Blinking slower in surprise, Shepard gave me her obvious answer, "Of course we are, babe. I still want us to be together. Contract and all. Unless you wanted to renegotiate something. I wouldn't blame you."

"There isn't anything I wanna _renegotiate,_ necessarily," I mentioned. "We can talk about it later."

"All right, then," she accepted, smiling. Shepard noticed I was still uncertain. "What's the matter?"

"I'm a girl with a lot of baggage… _a ton_ more baggage after these past two years. Can you handle that?"

Clear, certain, confident: "Yes, Ashley. If you need me to, I'll even carry your bags for you."

I laughed softly. "Still a gentleman, then."

"For you, always," promised Shepard, holding me closer. "It goes without saying, but I want you to join me on this mission. I'm sure you know about the Collectors, what they're up to. I want you back with me. I want you to be my second-in-command again. It'll be just like old times. _Better,_ this time."

"Mmm, I'd love to," I accepted. "I'm definitely up for it. You know this means everything to me. It's who I am. Who I want to be."

Reaching up, finding my neck again with her lips, she said to me, "Welcome back to the team, Ash."

Beaming over her tone, her care, even with these cropping thoughts, I replied, "Thanks, Skipper…"

Shepard noticed this, too: "Tell me the rest. Whatever else is on your mind."

Pools of guilt building in the pit of my stomach. "Did Miranda tell you about the two of us…?"

"She told me."

Overanalyzing Shepard's toneless tone, I couldn't know what to make of her reaction.

Not even a reaction.

She just kept looking up at me in a neutral sort of way, not really giving me anything to go off of.

Disbelieving, I asked her, "And you're…not mad at me?"

"No, babe," said Shepard, still neutral. "Why would I be?"

"I mean, I know it was only an _emotional_ relationship, and we didn't have sex or anything, but…"

Shepard emphasized, "Ash, it's obvious to me that you needed her. Maybe you still do."

"Yeah, I did need her," I confessed. "And I still do. Even though I have you… That's why I feel like this."

Knowing what was best, Shepard moved over the bed again, situating us one last time. She set her head over the pillows, elevating enough. I fell into her arms, right at her side as I lay against her, letting her hold me like this. Hiding away with my head along her chest, breathing in this smooth smell of her, of the fabric of her shirt, I didn't know what else to do. I needed her to hold me, and she did.

I needed her to be patient with me, and she was.

"Miranda didn't give me any details," she specified. "Then again, I didn't ask her to. I can imagine that you leaned on her through the worst of it. She seems reliable. Like she cares. So, I get it. I understand."

"But I knew you were coming back," I anguished. _"I knew_ and I got attached to her like this anyway. Not even that. She and I have—feelings for each other and everything. We never actually kissed. We never did anything except sleep in the same bed whenever we spent time together. She would hold me, and I would feel better. Whenever we were apart, we would email each other constantly. The only reason we didn't fool around was because of you. I didn't want to hurt you. I couldn't go through with it."

Shepard reminded me, "Babe, I was gone… Yeah, I was coming back. Doesn't change the fact that I was out of your life for two whole years. You had her support. Miranda took care of you, didn't she?"

"Every day…"

"Then it's okay."

Holding me tighter with her understanding, Shepard convinced me that it really _was_ okay. That she didn't blame me at all. That she could never be mad at me for this. She let me be upset in her arms, letting this out, letting her back in like this after I had _missed her_ for so long… But even though I had her immediate acceptance, her forgiveness, I hated that I had this situation she needed to accept or forgive in the first place. I hated that I couldn't just be pure for Shepard, only having feelings for her…especially after what we'd gone through with Liara, and how much that whole thing had fucked me up.

Because Liara had _really_ fucked me up. Badly.

I felt the effects now. More, now that I was open like this. So much more now that Shepard was back.

And even more of it was unseen. I couldn't pin everything down. Exactly how she'd affected me. And how I'd probably made it all worse over the years by pushing myself. Constantly pushing myself. Never taking a moment to slow down and take stock of my emotions. Just always shoving them aside, running ahead. Needing to prove myself. Needing to be perfect, to have everything I wanted.

I hated that I had to lie like this, too, keeping so many secrets. Not only about Liara, about what I had done. I felt like I couldn't tell Shepard the full extent of how hard I'd leaned on Miranda while she was gone. Like there were plenty of nights where I was at home without her, and I would send her an email at a stupid hour, telling her how close I was to breaking. Every single time, she would get on a QEC call with me within minutes—even if I'd woken her up out of her sleep, and even if she had a transport to catch in the morning to come see me. Miranda would talk me through everything. She wouldn't let me go through it alone. She'd remind me that she was there for me, one hundred percent. She'd bring me back up again with her words, with how much she cared about making sure I was all right.

Shepard was strong for me now, carrying the bags of my baggage exactly as she'd promised.

Miranda was the one who'd sorted all of my baggage for Shepard to carry in the first place, organizing them by trauma, by place, by person and by extremes. She helped me see everything as clearly as I did:

This valley of separation between how much I trusted Shepard and Miranda, _emotionally,_ was what got to me in the end. Because I had made a business out of lying to Shepard about so much before, not wanting to set her off about Liara or make her pick sides. And now I had to do it again, but way worse.

All out of fear.

All to keep her arms around me, exactly like this.

So many more lies, or at least secrets, for now: I couldn't begin to tell Shepard about the intense dreams I had about her. Sexual in terrifying thrills, digging the deepest wants right out from my head. Not only about her. Whenever I had those types of dreams about Miranda, it was always with Shepard present somehow. Whether she was busy supervising us while Miranda took advantage of me at my neediest, weakest points; or Miranda and I were both on our knees together, giving her a blowjob at once, with Shepard wielding that power over us; or I was off to the side, mesmerized while Shepard fucking _railed_ Miranda out of pure rage for 'stealing' me from her. She was forever there in the scene, somewhere.

I had no idea how to start that conversation with her. With either of them.

Because there was something about this dynamic that had unlocked me. I couldn't explain all of it.

Like it was the perfect end to all the shit I'd dealt with before, with Liara holding so much over my head.

I was the one in control. I was the one calling the shots. Shepard _and_ Miranda would do what I wanted.

And there was more to it than that. There was always more. Especially with these two, with me as three.

Realizing this again, stronger and clearer now, I felt liberated. I calmed back down, centering myself.

Calming me more, Shepard kissed away the rest from my face. She brought me back up again. She made me smile, and laugh, just from how attentive she was—so much more affectionate than she ever was with me in the past. Holding me tighter, kissing me harder, all laced with sweetness and joy: it was nothing like her, not from what I remembered, but _I loved it._ I loved her more like this.

Shepard asked me, "So you're all right, then?"

"Yeah, I am," I told her. "All thanks to you. You're still a big softy."

"You know I love you, babe. I can't help it. If you need me to kiss you more, I will. I'll do anything."

Okay, _this_ was definitely new, too.

When Miranda had warned me that Shepard might've been different, I hadn't expected this.

"I love you, too, Shepard… And I'm really happy. I was scared you'd be mad at me. I'm surprised."

Shepard hummed, thoughtful. "Well, speaking of confessions," she began, "I'm not sure if Miranda told you—she made a chat room for the two of us. To talk about my health. If I need to. I guess she wants me to let her know if anything's broken with me. I feel fine, though. I just figured you should know."

"That's a good idea," I agreed. "Doesn't bother me. You two should talk about whatever! Not just that, or about work. I don't mind."

Shepard paused.

Narrowing her eyes. Confused.

I grinned at her, asking, "What? Why do you have that look on your face?"

"You say that like you don't care," noticed Shepard. "Like you don't think Miranda's a threat at all. You're perfectly fine with letting me _talk to her?"_

I laughed. "Shepard, I'm _way_ more important than her and you know it. So there's no risk. I trust you. Besides, if you start feeling something for her, then we'll just talk it over. We'll work it out. Because that's what we have to do now. It'll be fine."

Humming in disbelief, she didn't know what else to say.

"Skipper," I tried, still grinning. "Listen, Miranda's a real hottie. I'll give her that. She's perfect. She's incredible. She's confident as hell. Intelligent, too. And I bet you like that. But she's not me. You love me, not her. So there's no problem."

Shepard seemed to more or less accept that. For now, anyway.

"Well, back to the chat room with her," she continued. "She sent me something already. Earlier today."

"Yeah? What'd she say?"

"Some context first," prefaced Shepard. "Not long after we got back to the ship after our first mission, I noticed…something was wrong. With the crew. They had some major clique wars going on, grouping up to talk shit about Miranda behind her back. Even after I'd named her as my executive officer, I found half the crew in the mess hall together, calling her a bitch and anything else you can think of. It was bad. Bad enough for me to shout them down and kick them off the ship. Miranda overheard me. She followed me while I took everyone to the airlock and made them leave. Things are much quieter now."

"Oh… That's totally fucked up. I think I remember Miranda mentioning some of the crew were a pain in the ass. At least to her, personally. But they were some of the rare few in Cerberus who _weren't_ racist. They had some pretty decent track records. So she felt like she had to put up with them…for you."

Shepard wondered, "Why? Because she knew I wouldn't tolerate racists and xenophobes on my ship?"

"Well… _yeah."_

Silence for a moment, thinking, and then, "She didn't have to do that for me."

Out of respect for Miranda's privacy, and to keep my promises, I couldn't tell Shepard the reasons _why._

"Anyway," she went on, "Miranda sent me a message about the whole thing."

Too nosey, too interested and curious about this, and so mischievous—"Could I see?"

Shepard opened up her omni-tool's chat interface, showing me.

At the top, I saw the name of the chat room, _The Prodigal._ Off to the side, Shepard and Miranda's first names were there, as the two members of the room. The invite button was blocked out. No one else could join. Complete privacy.

The grin on my face swelled and grew as I read the first and only message in the room:

_[09:27:30] Miranda: Good morning, Commander. I understand that you'll be gone over the weekend with Lieutenant Williams. Before you head out, I wanted to thank you. For how you handled that situation with the crew. I didn't expect you to notice anything with them. Or at least, I didn't think they would be stupid enough to say what they did right in front of you. And even then, I didn't anticipate that you would care enough to take action. Not for me. From what I heard, you made it clear that you were angry over the way they chose to treat me, as your executive officer. In fact, you were very specific about it._

_I'm sure you can see why I'm surprised about this. Our first day working together wasn't exactly what I would call balanced. It was very up and down. You seemed exhausted by me. For good reason. I suppose I wasn't adequately prepared for the change in routine. Going from watching over you constantly—caring for you over two years—to interacting with you as your own person…it's jarring. I still need to get used to this. Either way, thank you again for dealing with the crew. You have my utmost appreciation._

When I finished reading her message, I couldn't help thinking that Miranda was so sweet.

I'd always known that she was. But this was new. This was extra special.

Because I knew where these sentiments of hers had come from. I saw them in between her words, between every single letter, exuding there, even through text. I saw the way Miranda _wanted_ to pour her heart out and tell Shepard the whole truth about how she felt. She held that back anyway. She seemed way too conflicted to put her feelings out there. At least this soon.

I couldn't tell if Shepard had picked up on that yet.

Though I did notice that she hadn't replied to Miranda's message…

"So, why didn't you reply to her?" I prodded.

Shepard only shrugged.

"Skipper, you're such a grump. Say something back!"

Pursing her lips, unimpressed, Shepard made herself respond:

_[14:01:11] Me: It was nothing. Don't worry about it._

I pushed at her chest, questioning, "What the hell was that!? Could you _not_ be a dick right now?"

Shepard widened her eyes at me in shock, like she seriously didn't think I'd react like this.

"Don't even, Shepard," I warned. "Miranda dropped her pride to send you a nice message. To thank you for standing up for her. And you didn't reply at all until I told you to! You kept her hanging for, what, four and a half hours? You have to know she's driving herself crazy over this! That little response of yours isn't going to cut it. You can do better than that."

Only after the fact did I realize: I could have started an argument between us, saying things like that.

But, to _my_ shock, Shepard didn't get offended or cuss me out. Nothing.

She actually listened to me. She took a moment to reconsider, _for me._ Because of what I wanted. As she should have. I was the one in charge here.

Readjusting, she typed something else, something more, amending:

_[14:12:53] Me: And maybe I was emotionally exhausted yesterday. I'm not the best with meeting new people. Especially when those people are already invested in me. Because of that, no encounter between us will ever be balanced. I'm not your equal. You know this already. That's just the way things have to be._

_Even still, I don't think you should be all that surprised by what I did. You know why I was able to use my tactical cloak with you during the mission. You demonstrated enough of your capabilities for me to make you my executive officer in the first place. I also have zero tolerance for the behavior I witnessed from the crew. You don't have to overthink things with me. But I also see that it's kind of pointless to tell you that. Seems like it's part of who you are: overanalyzing every single detail about someone. About me._

_Anyway, I've said enough about this. I'll let you know when Ashley and I are on our way to the ship._

That was a lot better.

I still couldn't tell if Shepard _knew_ about Miranda's feelings. If she'd picked up on them. Or if she felt the same way at all, even a little, after this one day of knowing her. I thought it was so crazy that I _wanted_ them to like each other this way. Because two years ago, I would've lost my mind at the thought of Shepard wanting another woman. Insecurities, doubts, fears about Shepard's attention straying from me— _whatever._ But then I'd reflected enough to include those possibilities in our contract, about bringing someone else in as a third. As a secondary interest, with Shepard and me still keeping each other as our main priorities. For threesomes, occasionally. For something more than that—on my terms.

Judging from their communications so far, the power dynamic between Shepard and Miranda was clear.

This was exactly what I wanted.

Shepard had closed her omni-tool. She gave me a look, needing to know what was on my mind.

I smiled at her and said, "Promise me you'll actually respond to her sooner from now on. Miranda _really_ cares about you. So don't be a stranger with her, okay?"

"I will if you want me to," she conceded.

I teased, "I _do_ want you to."

"And if Miranda messages me while you and I are out?" asked Shepard. "You still want me to reply?"

I confirmed, "When it's a good time, yeah. You'd never be rude with me or anything. I trust you." Then the idea came to me, for some extra control and amusement on my part: "Better yet, why not set a special notification on your omni-tool? That way, when I hear the sound, I'll know. Just silence everything when we're _busy together,_ as usual." Opening her omni-tool back up, Shepard did as I asked, picking a low rumble for the sound. And it was like magic, getting her to do something like this for me. Like a straight-up high. "Thanks, Skipper! You're the best."

Shepard wanted me to come out and say it now. "Ashley…"

I gave her a sweet smile this time. "Yeah?"

"Babe, do you seriously think I haven't noticed what you're doing?"

"Mmm, I don't know what you mean!"

Shepard laughed a little. "Uh-huh, sure," she humored. "Then I'm gonna come right out and ask: you want Miranda to be involved with us. _Like that._ Don't you?"

As happy as this made me, I had to scale it back—"Shepard, look, we don't have to talk about this yet. Today's the first day you're back. The very first day for _us_ again." And she agreed with me. But I could tell she still wanted an answer. "Okay, fine. You're right. I do want Miranda with us like that. All three of us, her and me, you and her. As long as I'm still in charge, and you and I are the main couple here, I don't see anything wrong with it. She's already proven to me that she can keep boundaries."

"Because she respected your wishes about not having sex while I was gone?"

"Yeah, she did," I replied, realizing just how important that was to me. "She really, really did. Miranda never pressured me. Not once. I mean, the most she ever did was kiss me on the cheek at New Year's. But even then, she had my permission. We both held back a lot. She was always so patient with me."

Shepard considered this, again, for me.

"Besides," I went on, "I think if you give her a chance, you'll like her. Not _too much,_ though."

She wanted to know, "What gives you that impression?"

"Well, let's just say Miranda respects your power. In a _different_ way than I do. There's a lot of potential between you two. I want to see it for myself. In the meantime, you should get to know her better. Talk to her about whatever, like I said. But you don't have to force anything with her for my sake. If you want this, then you want it. If you don't, you don't. We won't move forward unless we both agree on it."

"That's fair. But how do you know Miranda would be open to something like this?"

"I have a pretty strong feeling she will be… Either way, we'll talk to her first. See what she says."

And I hoped she said yes.

Because I couldn't _wait_ for the chance to rub this in Miranda's face, for fun. Getting to see her buckle, all from the fact that she couldn't have my girlfriend. As perfect as she was, Miranda couldn't have this one thing. Because I was already sitting on this throne. I was already here and there was nothing she could do to change that.

 _God,_ I couldn't wait!

"All right, babe," allowed Shepard. "I'll talk to her more. Think it over. We'll see how it goes."

"Sounds good!" I said, hugging her tight. "So, what else did you want to do this weekend? You made it seem like you have more plans for us before we head back. Got anything in mind?"

"I do, actually. We can chill out for the rest of the day today. Nothing fancy. But tomorrow, we're leaving on another transport. For a surprise. I'm taking you out on a date."

I paused. "Tomorrow…"

The Super Bowl was tomorrow…

New York Giants against the Beijing Dragons. In Tokyo. I was rooting for the Giants to pull through.

I hadn't caught the stream live _at least_ three years in a row now, because of training or work.

And Shepard didn't know anything about sports, so of course she wouldn't have known…

She raised her brow at me, asking, "Will that be a problem?"

The way she asked me that was so…pointed, and sexy.

Shepard was so much more important than some fucking game. I could catch the vid later, again!

"No, it's okay!" I insisted. "We can head out tomorrow for sure. Whenever you want. Let's definitely keep chilling out for the rest of the day. I missed being around you like this…"

Shepard was all too happy to stay in bed with me for the whole day. We didn't rush into anything with sex. Just taking our time first, talking to each other for now. I got her caught up on how my N7 training went…while conveniently leaving out the details about my near-failure during my last test. She told me stories about her own training from years ago, comparing to mine. I also told her more about the past two years in general, what I went through. She listened with so much patience.

After hours of more talking, more making out, I got hungry enough for dinner. I was amazed that Shepard only needed to eat once a day from now on—and she didn't even need to sleep at all—thanks to the upgrades she told me about. We found something to eat on the station, forcing ourselves to deal with the sudden onslaught of attention from the Alliance soldiers and brass around us. But it was a good kind of awkward, since neither of us really seemed to mind. We knew that this was just the beginning.

What mattered most was that Shepard gave me such a special feeling. The way we talked with so much ease, the way she looked at me like I was her one and only—she really made me feel like there was no one else in her heart. Like she didn't actually love Liara anymore… And now we had continued our relationship right from where we'd left off. Like Shepard really had been deployed all this time, and she'd learned to love me more. As if we'd kept up with each other across time and space; as if my faith for her had reached her through death, and then through her coma later on, sustaining her forever.

* * *

This question of whether or not Shepard still loved Liara—it stayed on my mind throughout the night until I fell asleep, seeping everywhere.

I had the craziest dream about it, too:

I was in some kind of palace glittering in the sunlight shining in from the windows. Light colors, bright reflections. And I was on a throne, sitting there in my Alliance uniform. Actually feeling like I belonged there. The throne as Shepard's protections, keeping her safe from outside influences. Sitting on this throne because _I was the one_ protecting her. Because Shepard was in front of me in her stealth suit, kneeling. Bowing her head to me. Even with her full power radiating from her in the sun, she chose to do this for me. I would _never_ have more power and influence than she did. Not realistically. I didn't want to, either. It was more that Shepard gave me her subservience _with_ her authority, _with_ her command. She did this even while her kneeling leg, her combat boots, and her fist upon the floor soaked up the violet of the blood pooling out over the marble; while I had my foot over Liara's head as she lay dead on the marble floor, after I had shot her.

Somehow, through this dream, it felt like Shepard had helped me take that shot.

As if her entire reality and perception had shifted in my image.

And it exploded this high she gave me. So much power. So much influence. So much importance, because I finally fucking mattered. All of my hard work and pushing myself and hating myself and despising myself for how inferior I was before: it had all paid off, now that Shepard had elevated me in this special, unique way. No one could take this away from me. _No one._

Not even Miranda.

As amazing and lovely and beautiful and smart and capable and sexy as Miranda was, Shepard only wanted me.

For as long as Miranda had loved Shepard, having obsessed over her for twenty years, none of that mattered.

Those twenty years couldn't compare to the seven years that I had spent loving Shepard, _more._ Way, way more. And now she was mine.

Shepard would only ever want and love me. No matter what happened, we would _always_ be together. With me, sitting on this throne of her subjectivity, bending her will to suit me, what I wanted.

All of that stayed on my mind when I woke up in her arms in the middle of the night. I kept thinking about it while I showered and got dressed, half-wondering about the possibility and half-wondering where Shepard planned on taking me for our date—wondering even more why she wanted us to leave at this weird hour, instead of leaving in the morning. I had already planned on waking up around this time, though. Just a few hours later. Since the Super Bowl was in Tokyo this year, the time difference was pretty crazy. It was already the afternoon over there, with the game starting at 6:30pm their time.

I wasn't even thinking clearly by the time I got dressed. Signaling some of what was on my mind, I put on some nice jeans and sneakers—and a Giants throwback jersey for my favorite linebacker. Mostly blue, with white numbers and font, and the classic red-striped lining. I obviously didn't have plans to watch the game live that day, but there was something about this that felt right. I couldn't explain what it was.

All I knew was that this feeling repeated when Shepard let me pick out her clothes for the day. Or the night. I sorted through the outfits in her holo-closet, settling on something simple to match me. Her own masculine style of nice jeans, one of those white, long-sleeved button down shirts I liked on her, and some black leather engineer boots. I liked these kinds of androgynous looks on her, with men's clothes that fit her body in a slim way, without drowning her at all. Blending both worlds; making people look twice at her, from this style with her long hair down, blurring the worlds she blended so well.

Once we were ready to leave, I had my things sent to the _Normandy_ , while Shepard and I left Arcturus Station in a regular transport.

I obviously had no idea where we were going. I did notice that the captain and everyone else aboard seemed to make a point of not saying anything about our destination. Not really minding either way, I leaned on Shepard's shoulder while we sat together during the short ride, enjoying our silence together. I was tempted to check my omni-tool for more sports commentary leading up to the big game. But I knew I'd only spoil myself. Instead, I spent the whole ride taking in every single detail about Shepard, making sure she was still the same. I liked taking her hand in mine, observing: checking the lines along her palm, the sharp curves of her knuckles and the bends of her fingers, and the thinness of her wrist. I liked feeling her body heat next to mine. I liked that she didn't mind at all, letting me enjoy her like this.

And I did wonder about something that was missing.

No one looked over at us, wondering about _heat._ That fire. The one Shepard and I had always given off whenever we were together.

What happened to that weird glitch? Had Miranda fixed it?

More importantly, that question about Liara _was_ still on my mind.

Caressing Shepard's hand like this, I couldn't put my finger on this feeling.

I wasn't sure if Shepard was only in love with me now. As much as it had fucked me up in the past, I remembered that sense: of how Shepard was capable of being in love with more than one person at a time. I wasn't sure if I was the same way. I wasn't _in love_ with Miranda. I loved her as someone who was insanely close to me. Even though I'd never said the words to her. Even though she probably felt the same about me and had never said it, either.

I had no idea if Shepard just hadn't faced her feelings yet, or if they were actually gone.

There was no way I could bring myself to ask her. Too many fears, too many traumas.

When we left the transport to the outdoor docking bay of our destination, I stopped.

This sunny day shining down on us at the transport station.

All the tourists walking by after their arrivals, dressed in their jerseys for the Dragons or the Giants.

The Japanese flags flying above our heads, and across the indoor station: white and red, everywhere…

"Shepard!" I said, pressing my hands over my mouth. "Are we…in Tokyo?!"

Smooth and suave, Shepard smiled at me, replying, "For the Super Bowl, yes—"

I jumped into her arms, squeezing her. "Oh my God, no way! How did you—? But I thought you had no idea! I mean, you came back _yesterday!_ And you still managed to get tickets for us!?" Holding me tight, Shepard just kept grinning at me, like she had even more surprises in store. I reached up to kiss her, _so_ over the moon. "Skipper, thank you… Thank you so much. This is seriously a dream come true for me. I could never afford the tickets on my own before. _I could have,_ this year—but before you got here, I…wasn't in the mood. That's changed now. Sharing this with you means everything to me."

"You know I'd do anything for you, babe," she told me, about to make me melt in front of everyone. "I had to make our reunion one to remember with a very special date. I wanted to make you happy."

"And you definitely did!"

Shepard asked in such a teasing way, "Think this is in the running for the best day ever?"

Letting her hold my hand, I teased her right back, "We'll just have to see about that, won't we?"

Guiding me through the transport station, knowing exactly where to go—Shepard had the most handsome, winning smile on her face. Because she knew she was good. _She was so good._ She made me happier from how much she glowed, taking me through the station to the underground metro. I felt how protective she was, too, whenever it got too crowded around us with all of the other tourists—mostly human: Shepard would shift to wrapping her arms around my waist, leading me forward while she pressed her front to my back. Never letting me forget that she was there, even if I couldn't see her. Never letting us get surrounded, even with a bunch of these tourists stopping to stare at us, taking pictures of us with their omni-tools. The news and gossip sites were probably on fire right about now.

While we took a bullet train to Shibuya—one of the busiest towns in Tokyo, where the stadium was—I noticed more and more of the tourists, and some of the locals staring at us, talking about us, and wondering about us. Shepard didn't seem to mind, letting me sit by the window while she stayed next to me. I was impressed that she knew this place well enough to not need any directions. She explained that she'd been to Tokyo often enough for Fashion Week back in the day. So this was nothing new to her.

And thank God it wasn't.

Because once we left the train at Shibuya Station, it was like a madhouse.

Holding my hand again, Shepard led us through the crowds of locals and tourists all mixed together, trying to get to their trains and exits or wherever else. Despite the chaos from all the people, the underground station itself looked so clean and orderly to me, with a pleasant type of lighting everywhere. Bright juice and yogurt stands caught my eye, along with a bunch of job magazines neatly packed along the walls, and ads everywhere. Even with the many signs along the walls and columns pointing in helpful directions, this place was like a maze, with stairs and corridors all over the place.

I wasn't surprised to see tons of tourists looking around like they were lost, even with their omni-tools pointing them where to go. They stood around in the red and yellow of their Dragons jerseys, or the blue and white of their Giants jerseys instead, trying to piece together their location with where to head next through this mall-like place. Plenty of the locals were kind enough to help them out, offering helpful directions and sending them off with a smile. But the other locals were way too absorbed in their omni-tool calls or their conversations, actively avoiding all the drama.

In between that chaos, _so many people_ kept pointing us out, like they were excited to see us here.

Shepard did her best to ignore them, navigating us around the crowds taking up space, trying to get a better look at us.

Before I knew it, she led me up a long set of stairs, bringing us outside, close to Shibuya Central Street.

Towering over the more immediate area leading to the trains, I saw the town's buildings tempting my sight up to the cloudless skies. So many ads and billboards stacked along the sides of the silver and glass skyscrapers: videos and static images for clothes and perfumes, pop music idols and boy bands and girl bands in streetwear and more colorful outfits, the latest tech products and upgrades, and sports commentary and highlight reels from the Giants and the Dragons leading up to Super Bowl. Huge screens lit up the already-sunny skies, lighting down on all of the people walking around here, playing more ads, and showing the news that was already talking about Shepard and me here together.

All of that bustle and noise overlooked the pedestrians walking over the gigantic intersection in the streets, crossing from all directions. Even though there weren't that many ground vehicles, the place was still packed from the hundreds of pedestrians moving and stopping with the traffic lights. Most of the actual traffic was higher up from the skycars breezing past all of those ads and news screens.

Closer, plenty of the pedestrians from the Shibuya Crossing made their way through here, heading into the many different entrances leading to the trains. An open plaza, a lottery stand, and a memorial statue of a cute-looking dog named Hachiko: this place felt like it had so much history behind it from people coming and going over the years.

"Shepard, this is insane," I said out loud, gripping her hand tighter. "You _know_ your way around here?"

"Took me a while to figure it out," she admitted. "And this is just one major part of Tokyo itself. There are a ton of other towns with their own personalities—for shopping, going to the beach, heading to bars, clubs and restaurants, or even religious places. Not all of them are this crowded. I like the variety."

"Yeah, I can imagine," I replied, enjoying what came to mind. But all of these _people_ surrounding us: taking pictures, and smiling, and calling their friends over to get a better look… "Did you have this many admirers the last time you were here? You know, treating you like a celebrity or something?"

Shepard pointed out, "Ash, whether I like it or not, you and I _are_ celebrities. Kind of hard to ignore."

I smiled in acceptance. "Guess so, huh?"

"Well, considering the crowds," she noted, taking a look around, "Did you want to get something to eat first? There's a restaurant I have in mind for us…but I already know we're going to have company. We can go straight to the football stadium from here if you'd rather do that instead."

"Let's go to the stadium!" I decided. "I'd love to head to that restaurant you have in mind—but yeah, this crowd is a no-go. We wouldn't be able to have any privacy. I think we had enough to eat for breakfast earlier, anyway. So let's just grab some food together before the game! You know, at the concession stands! I've always wanted to do this for the big game."

Shepard smiled down at me, over how excited I was. "All right, babe," she allowed, having us head over to that huge crosswalk. Our admirers followed behind. "You have a taste for anything in particular?"

Obviously: "We have to get beer, Skipper. It's mandatory. No exceptions!"

Hiding her sour face, she told me, "Whatever you want is fine with me."

Knowing that Shepard didn't like beer, I leaned against her, glad to have this moment with her, this day.

Walking through these packed streets of Shibuya with her, I couldn't help thinking how _amazing_ this felt. Especially since I was in such a different headspace during my graduation, just yesterday. Another milestone in my career. My hard work had paid off. And yet all I'd been able to think about was how depressed I would be as soon as I made it back to my room. Only for Shepard to surprise me, showing up again; coming back into my life at the exact moment when I needed her most.

Heavenly, heaven-sent.

She _really_ was the woman of my dreams.

And so dreamy, as beautiful as she was in this sunlight shining down on us.

The people following us to the stadium knew it, too. They saw how happy Shepard made me; they saw how confident she was from making me this happy, making her seem taller, stronger. Larger-than-life.

But by the time we reached the colossal view of Tokyo's football stadium, our followers couldn't stick around us anymore. The ones who didn't have tickets for the game got turned away by security at the massive parking lot. And the ones who did have tickets had to disperse anyway, since the security officers didn't want them stalking us on stadium grounds. I didn't mind either way, though Shepard did seem relieved to get rid of them. I knew she hated the attention, only putting up with it for my sake.

We attracted even more attention from everyone in the parking lot, anyway. So much space that seemed to go on for miles: packed with skycars already, showing off team colors, there were tons of people out here tailgating right before the game. Drinking alcohol together, blasting music from their car's speakers, and just throwing a huge party as separate groups of friends and families, all together here at once. They definitely noticed Shepard and me walking by as we held hands: raising their beer bottles in our direction, cheering like crazy, like we were a main event, they welcomed Shepard back after so long—not really caring about _how_ she got back, only that she was here. Here with me.

When we reached the long, long lines at the stadium to get in, the same story played out again. Thankfully, it wasn't entirely the same. Shepard had us skip the lines. She brought me off to the side, having us go in through the special entrance for Spectres and other important figures. Passing through the security system was painless—except this thing still thought that Shepard was dead. The system didn't care about the sidearm she had concealed in her pocket, but somehow _this_ was an issue. The officers standing watch nearby understood enough, letting us both through without any problems.

"They need to fix that," grumbled Shepard, holding my hand again. "At this rate, everyone in the damn galaxy knows I'm back. But they still can't update their security measures."

"You'd think they would have by now," I agreed. "I'm sure they'll get on it soon enough." Looking around the huge space where we were—filled with those concession stands with tons of food—I noticed that the entire stadium was empty. "Hey…why'd they let us in so early? There's no one else here yet."

"You'll see, babe. Come with me."

Letting her lead on again, I felt myself smiling non-stop.

Kaidan was going to be _so_ jealous once I told him about this! Then again, he'd probably find out on his own whenever he checked the news. Whenever he had free time in between his top-secret work out on Horizon, anyway. Hopefully I'd get the chance to tell him everything from start to finish.

And when Shepard showed me this next surprise, I started grinning way more, mesmerized:

She brought me to the evergreen of the field itself, brightened under the sun.

Tens of thousands of vacant seats spread out across this vast space, rising to the top row up so high and far away, almost like an uninhabited city.

_Completely empty._

Aside from the security guards standing at their posts here and there, no one else was around. They saw us but didn't say a word. They knew we had permission to be here. They seemed just as focused on protecting us as they were on protecting the stadium in general.

Shepard walked with me to the grass. For now, we stopped at the fifty-yard line.

Halfway between the end zones, between the goalposts hovering over the ends of the field, I had to catch my breath. Being here like this, with this exact view, made me feel so small, but in a good way. Like I couldn't compare to the greatness of this space, of the promise here. Because I remembered my old aspirations from back in high school: how badly I'd wanted to make it out here as a pro player. I could've done it, too, if not for everything else that had gotten in my way. If fate hadn't decided that it had other plans for me, steering the course of my life away from these dreams of mine.

Thinking more about what could've been, I let Shepard take me out to the very center of the field. We ambled together along the blocky white line making the yardage. Splitting the field in half. Halving the entire stadium down the middle in this perfect symmetry.

At the very center of the field, Shepard had us stop here together.

Holding my hands in both of hers, we faced each other, with Shepard in the direction of one of the end zones, and with me facing the one behind her. Looking at each other, focused on each other. So enamored, so in love—I couldn't believe how perfect this moment felt. As hypnotized as I was with Shepard gazing down at me like this, it was like the entire dynamic of our relationship changed on the spot. Like we'd suddenly known each other for years and years; like we were seriously high school sweethearts, still together later in life. Still going strong after all this time.

Even more special, I knew that Shepard wanted to say something to me.

Shaded from the sun thanks to her, I waited for her words, delighted to see her so shy like this.

"Ashley," began Shepard, holding my hands tighter. "I can't tell you how glad I am to be here with you. Not just at this stadium, in this city. Being alive again, being with you again…I couldn't be happier. I know I'm still not the best at _showing_ my feelings. I'm pretty sure you know anyway. Otherwise, you wouldn't have waited for me for two years. When I found out you really hadn't moved on…it affected me. A lot."

Swinging our hands between us a bit, I told her, "Skipper, are you that surprised I waited? You know me. I could never move on from you. You're my life. My hero. You're _everything_ to me… Especially after you left your legacy to me, to take care of. I can't tell you how much that means to me, even today."

Shepard grimaced, admitting, "Can't say I'm much of a hero after I died once already…"

"Hey, don't say that… You're back now. That's all that matters."

Noticing that I was about to cry, Shepard pulled me into her arms. Protective, secure, she rocked me a bit, swaying back and forth to comfort me more. Once again, she surprised me with these little changes that felt so momentous. These small touches from her added affection made me feel even smaller, again…in the best way possible.

"Ash, thank you," she expressed, warming my heart so much. "For waiting. For being so patient for me. For not giving up on us. I know you were in a lot of pain, even with Miranda around. I wouldn't have blamed you if you'd decided to move on. With or without knowing that I'd be back. I appreciate that you chose to wait instead."

"And I'd do it all over again if I had to. Even if we could only have a single moment like this. _I would."_

"I know you would, babe. I needed to hear that. It helps me. It really does."

I reached to kiss her jaw, hardened from her efforts to keep herself together. "I love you, Shepard. I'm not going anywhere. You have my promise."

Holding me closer, inhaling the smell of my hair at the roots. "I love you, too. I'm not going anywhere, either. Let's stay on this path. I want to see where it takes us. I have a pretty good feeling. So you have my promise that I'll be here. Whatever happens, we'll see this through. Together."

* * *

After Shepard and I spent more time out on the field—talking, making out while standing in place—we had to get going. With the game about to start soon enough, the stadium wanted to start letting the public in. And right when we made it back to the concession stands, the place was crowded, wall-to-wall, filled with people from around the world, from across the galaxy. Mostly human, they waited in more of those long lines to browse the food kiosks with mostly Western food and Japanese food. I saw a lot of people walking around with nachos and pretzels, rice balls, crapes.

Beer was the staple. Whether people showed off their red and yellow colors for the Dragons, or the blue and white for the Giants, pretty much everyone had an eco-friendly bottle of beer in their hand. Cotton candy and beer; burgers and beer; croquettes or _takoyaki_ or dumplings—and beer. And I wanted some.

Shepard had the power to cut in line, of course, but I didn't want us to do that. We found a stand that had a short enough wait—for beers, and those warm, cinnamon _churros_ she loved so much. Everyone stared at us, as usual, while we waited, while Shepard paid for everything at these ridiculous prices. She didn't mind the staring this time—or the prices—seeing how happy I was about us being here together, how I couldn't stop smiling. Once we had everything we wanted, she led us back outside to the stands.

I was so giddy about having this experience with her, I almost didn't know where we were headed. Not exactly. I couldn't imagine what type of seats Shepard had managed to get for us last-minute like this. All the other people crowding around us, revved up and excited for the game—they'd no doubt bought their tickets weeks or months ahead of time, picking out the best ones if they could afford it. There was no way we could compete with that. So I was ready to love just about any seats she'd gotten for us…

Until she surprised me _again,_ leading us right to the first row elevated from the field, behind the railing:

Right at the fifty-yard line!

"You're kidding!" I blurted out, standing in front of our seats. "Shepard, how'd you pull this off?!"

Shepard gave me an easy smile. "That's my secret, babe."

While we sat down—with Shepard on my left, and me on the right side—I noticed that the immediate seats around us were empty. A handful here in the first row, and a few more directly behind us: no one was there. No one was _allowed_ there. With all the other people packing into the rest of the seats everywhere else, I knew this wasn't a coincidence. By this point, the entire stadium was filled up as a sea of team colors: waving flags, raising signs, people cheering already and showing off their hardcore face paint, all in between their excited conversations and speculation about who would win the game.

Sitting here with Shepard on our own secluded island, this close to the action, was so perfect.

And it was even better when she leaned closer to me, wrapping her arm around my shoulders.

Everyone nearby had their eyes on us, watching, intrigued and energized even more.

Those cameras down on the field focused on us as much as they focused on the crowd, too—streaming live across the world, across the galaxy over the extranet.

But it was simple enough to tune it all out, living in the moment.

Holding our beers and food in my lap, I hid away a bit in Shepard's hold. Smiling against her neck like this, I had a vague view of the rest of the stadium, of that evergreen and the rest of those colors out there, blending with all the cheering, all the noise. Smelling her scent up close like this again—over her skin, over her shirt—I knew that this was real. Not just a dream that was about to end way too soon.

Insulated and protected here, I whispered to her, "You thought of everything, didn't you?"

"Always," she whispered back, just next to my ear. "I did consider those seats in the suite instead. Up near the top, where the rest of the celebrities and politicians sit together. But I figured you'd rather be closer to the action like this."

"You figured right," I praised. "I'm glad you picked this spot instead. Don't get me wrong—sitting with the high-rollers would've been a good time, too. I love that you wouldn't have thought twice about that for us. This is special, though. We're still kinda secluded. And I like that. I want you all to myself…"

Shepard laughed a little, low and deep. Just like her voice sounded so close to me, so clear: "Either way, Ash, I wanted to be here with you. Maybe you can teach me more about the game while we're at it."

I laughed, too, asking, "You'll drink this beer with me, then?"

"Yes, babe. Whatever you want."

"Mmm, you must _really_ like me…"

Shepard kissed me, what she could reach of me at this angle. "You know I do. I love you."

So serious and profound in her meaning, with only a few words; with her actions reaching the skies. Lifting me with this eternal high, high up on the throne she'd given me.

I was almost disappointed when the players started coming out onto the field, when they held the coin toss to see who would get the ball first. But I sat up anyway, glad that Shepard kept her arm around my shoulders: caring, shielding. She stayed like this with me once the game started, once the Giants kicked the ball off to the Dragons; once the cheering across the stadium picked up steam even more. I loved that she gave me this comfort. I loved that Shepard paid attention to me like this, in between watching the players down on the field. _I loved her so much._ Fit to burst, I had to hold myself back. As much as I wanted to make out with her all over again, there were way too many eyes on us.

Instead, I let myself enjoy this time with her, more and more as the game went on.

This tangible excitement in the air—and Shepard's attention on me—kept a smile on my face. Play-by-play, I enjoyed watching the teams down on the field, picking out every little detail in the Giants' stalwart defense so far. The crunch of their helmets against the Dragons at the line of scrimmage. The way the crowd went crazy when the Giants managed to sack the Dragons' quarterback. And the way they cried foul when the refs threw a flag at a possible penalty, _already—_ the players had to obey the referees' shrill whistles at any cost, though, despite the complaints.

I wasn't too worried. The Giants were the underdogs here. They knew they had to pull through.

And Shepard was convincing enough, but I knew she was lost, trying to follow along.

While she drank this beer with me, I was all too happy to explain everything, teaching her the terminology and more about the rules. She was a pretty quick learner I wasn't surprised at all.

Every time Shepard named what happened—like when the Giants pulled off an interception, catching the ball during a pass from the Dragons—I made sure to reward her. Feeding her a piece of this cinnamon stick did the trick. She smiled at me each time, knowing how much I enjoyed this. She'd even learned about first, second, third, and fourth down while the Giants pushed for their first touchdown. And when they didn't manage to score by that point, she picked up on the concept of punting the ball back to the opposite team. Gaining yardage, pushing to the end zone, staying on the field and not going out of bounds, not getting tackled or letting the ball drop to the field, and going for a field goal whenever a touchdown probably wouldn't happen in time: she learned it all.

Once the halftime show was about to start, neither team had scored a single touchdown. The Dragons and the Giants were both at three points from the field goals they'd scored. Their defense dominated the plays so far, not letting the quarterbacks from either team get much done at all. I was kind of annoyed, hoping that this first game with Shepard would've been more exciting or dynamic. I guessed I just had to be patient, waiting to see what would happen in the third and fourth quarters after this.

Overhead, the retractable roof of the stadium had closed for the halftime show, darkening everything around us. In this dark, the stage and the lights had more space to shine, setting off a real spectacle from the performers, for the audience that had flooded the field down below—like a full-on fireworks display in the night in between all the music and dancing. I wasn't really paying attention, though.

Shepard and I had decided to stay in our seats together. With the cameras focused more on the show than on us this time, and with a bunch of the crowd having moved down to the field, we had a little more privacy. Not enough for her to kiss me as much as I wanted. Not enough for us to do more than that. But just enough for Shepard to keep whispering in my ear, telling me all about how much she missed having me in bed with her. So self-assured, she sent my imagination off, way off—even more with the way she touched me, her hands roaming down my legs over my jeans, firm and needing. She definitely had me laughing, flirting; enjoying her so much like this. Like I almost wanted to skip the rest of the game and sneak off with her somewhere. But then our tickets would've gone to waste…

As much as Shepard knew me, she had no idea how badly I needed her to fuck me. _Right now._

Not knowing anything at all, _someone_ interrupted us, ruining my high:

"Uh…hey, Lieutenant Williams? Is that, err, you again? With…Commander Shepard?"

Irritated, I turned around to look at who this was.

And once I saw that familiar face, with him wearing a Giants jersey, I remembered. _Again._

"Vega?" I asked, surprised. "You're here, too?"

James tried to smile at me—jumbled, nervous. "Yeah, it's me," he said, sounding the same. "Here with my homeboys, as usual." He gestured to his four friends behind him, drinking beer and wearing their own Giants jerseys. "Just, uh, saw you here with _the commander,_ and—well, we were surprised…"

Small world.

Shepard gave me a look, as if to ask who the hell this was. She didn't remember him from the 94.

I smiled, gesturing for her to hold on.

"You're not seeing things," I told James. "Shepard's back, in the flesh. Don't ask how, though—it's a long story. I'm surprised to see _you_ here, actually. Didn't you get shipped off somewhere before?"

"Right, right—I did," he confirmed, relieved that I remembered. "I was off on Fehl Prime for a long time. Things…didn't exactly go as planned." I could tell: something in his eyes had dimmed, like he'd really seen some shit out there on the colony. "Anyway, me and my boys decided we had to catch the game. Wouldn't miss this for anything. Fancy seeing you and Commander Shepard here." He remembered one last thing: "Oh, and, uh, sorry again about that weird stuff from two years ago. Back at the 94 with that friend of yours. I was stupid, trying to shoot my shot as best as I could. Obviously didn't work for me."

"It didn't work at all," I agreed. "But that's in the past. Old news. So don't worry about it, Vega."

James gave me a half-smile. "Appreciate it," he shared. Then he looked to Shepard, saluting her. "Commander. I'm sure you don't remember me. I saw you and Lieutenant Williams at the 94 way back when. The two of you had the whole city buzzing, especially back on-base. I'm James Vega. Made lieutenant myself not too long ago. Meeting you in-person is a real dream come true."

"At ease, Lieutenant," said Shepard, hardened. She looked him up and down. James relaxed—barely. "You said you saw the two of us at the club. Were you the one busy staring at us the whole night?"

"One of many, I'm sure," tried James, grinning; not meaning any harm. "You and Williams turned just about every head in there. It was pretty clear you were together. I knew I couldn't say anything."

Shepard scowled. "And then you had the nerve to pull some shit with my girlfriend while I was gone?"

James sputtered, "Err, Commander, I-I mean, it wasn't like that—"

Unimpressed, impatient, Shepard stood up.

Imposing, even with them standing at the same height—she wasn't fucking around here.

James knew it and backed away, defending himself, "Hey, wait a minute! I'm not trying to start nothing, Ma'am. I swear! I apologized to your girlfriend, twice. I admitted it was stupid! I saw Lieutenant Williams with her friend—and they both looked like they were upset over you being dead. I just figured—"

Hardened more, Shepard made herself clear: "I don't give a damn _what_ you figured, Vega. In fact, if you know what's good for you, you'll stop right there. Because if I hear another word out of your mouth, I'll only make you regret it." Stunned, James took another step back, finding that his friends had left him to fend for himself. He then looked to Shepard, her brimming rage. Something in his eyes dimmed again, broke again—"Get the hell out of my sight. If I find you again, then we're gonna have a problem."

Cautious, James tried his luck one more time: "You mean…we don't already have a problem?"

Shepard reached for her sidearm in her pocket. "Don't fucking test me!" she raged. "Leave, _now!"_

Not taking any more chances, James got the hell out of here with his friends, as ordered this time.

I wouldn't have been surprised if they'd left the stadium entirely, abandoning the rest of the game.

But when Shepard sat back down, she couldn't leave the incident behind her. She steamed in silence. Still raging in her thoughts, she didn't see me, how worried I was. It wasn't until I set my hand over her pocket—over the shape of her pistol there—that she came back to reality. Then she saw the look in my eyes. How worried I was. How concerned I was over her anger, her reaction like that. Like she really would've shot James dead if he hadn't listened to her. Like she would've lost control.

Holding her face this time, I asked her, "Shepard, what happened back there? Why'd you get so mad?"

"I won't tolerate anyone disrespecting you," she responded, firm. "Not for anything. Especially not while I was gone, while I wasn't there to stop it in real-time. I hate cowards like him."

"Okay," I accepted, still worried. "You weren't like this before… You're way more aggressive now."

"Ash, the only difference is that no one was stupid enough to pull this type of shit in the first place."

"You mean you would've had this same reaction any other time?"

Shepard glowered. She then spoke in a low, cryptic warning, filled with her possessive intent: "I've done worse than this without you knowing. So much worse. Anyone who dares to cross you will end by my hand. This _isn't_ anything new. Trust me."

I shifted in my seat, turned-on all of a sudden.

Coming back down to relative peace, Shepard spent the rest of the halftime show, the rest of the game holding me tight. She had my mind, my imagination going places. Wondering about her meaning, wondering about more than that—I wished she would've given me more details. I wished Shepard would've told me what she'd done that was _worse_ than what she'd shown me.

Beyond how different she seemed to me, from what I had seen, there was something more.

With Shepard, there was always something else. Something greater. Something far beyond my eyes.

And I should've fallen in love with her more for it. All of it.

The only thing that held me back…was my own truth.

Knowing that I kept so much from her. Lying by omission. Lying indirectly.

I tried to set that aside, at least for tonight. I wanted to enjoy our time together. I wanted to forget. I wanted to feel so much more than the loneliness, the numbness I'd spent two years pushing away. I wanted to see for myself that I'd made the right choices, even though I had to lie to her from now on.

* * *

Capping off such a great day: I was ecstatic when the New York Giants pulled off a win! Things looked bad in the third quarter, with the Beijing Dragons getting two touchdowns in a row right off the bat. But the Giants managed to come up from behind, never losing momentum all throughout the rest of the third quarter and for the entire fourth quarter. They crushed the Dragons big-time, winning 41-17.

Watching the Giants, the whole team and the coach and the owners in the middle of the field, celebrating over their championship and their rings—it was so magical, especially with Shepard with me. I couldn't stop grinning over the silly commentary, how they'd picked us out in the crowd for this moment, claiming we were good luck or something. The game had apparently had a huge ratings boost with us here, too. _The galaxy's two most famous Americans, rooting for the American team…_ I wasn't specifically born in America, even though my family had roots there. It was amusing as hell, anyway.

To top it off, some of the Giants players came up to Shepard and me after the game, inviting us to their after party with them. They were so nice about it, too—and silly, trying to salute us even though they'd totally never been in the military before. I remembered that Shepard had been to these before back in the day, so she knew how to handle things. Seeing that I _obviously_ wanted to go, she accepted for us!

Showing up at the high-rise apartment for the after party that night was so surreal. The place was dark with most of the lights off, letting the moonlight shine in on these already-darkened, slick surfaces and furniture, giving the place a starry sort of mood. Football players and all kinds of other celebrities had packed into the place, talking, dancing, laughing loudly over drinks, and just having a good time in general. Everywhere I went with Shepard throughout the apartment, I saw someone I recognized from a movie or TV or wherever else. A lot of them were happy to come over and meet us: welcoming Shepard back, picking out that we were girlfriends, thanking us for our service in the military; complimenting us on how hot we were together, and encouraging us to hang out more in _their_ world, so to speak.

I knew Shepard had no intentions of partying it up with the rich and famous in between our mission to stop the Collectors. A bunch of people recognized her from her old fashion days, too, practically begging her to go back to that career of hers. But Shepard was at least cool about talking with everyone, seeming familiar with this kind of thing. She stayed close to me the whole time, too. Never letting us get separated. Never letting go of my hand, or my waist. Determined to stick right by me, she wasn't overbearing or anything. Not _too_ possessive or territorial at all, if that was even possible for her. Just enough to make it clear to everyone where we stood with each other, and to not try anything.

No one was dumb enough—or drunk enough—to mess around with us. On purpose or otherwise.

But, again, no one said anything about that heat. Not even while they were right next to us. So Miranda had definitely fixed it.

I was kind of disappointed. I almost missed Joker's stupid fire jokes now.

Dark, alternative music blasting louder as time went on, and the football players and celebrities getting drunker by the minute, everyone was surprisingly polite. Nothing hostile, nothing weird or creepy.

The environment definitely helped Shepard relax with me some more. Not enough to actually dance with me in the crowded living room. But enough to stay posted on the wall while everyone else danced around us. I held her around us shoulders, smirking at her, at this hazy look in her eyes. Hazing more, Shepard kept her hands along my waist, over my jersey, feeling me sway my hips in-time with the music. She stayed still; she couldn't keep her hands off of me. She kept her eyes to mine, as aware as we both were of what went on around us. Those other people on the couches, especially, had started getting handsy with each other, like they needed a room or right about now.

Shepard and I needed one, too.

For now, though, I let myself enjoy this.

Raising her brow at me, Shepard asked, "Something on your mind, babe?"

"Maybe," I said, smirking more. "What gives you that idea?"

"You're obvious about it, that's what."

I laughed a little, against her lips. "Then tell me what you think is on my mind. Go on. I wanna know…"

Vibrato of her deep voice thrumming through my mouth: "You missed me touching you in all the right ways. The way you wanted. The way you needed. I see it in your eyes, Ash. You can't tell me otherwise."

"Or _maybe_ you just have a dirty mind," I claimed, as soaked as I knew I was from her voice alone. "Who knows? I could actually be thinking about something else. Like this city, how incredible it is." I loved that she pulled me closer; I loved that she grunted hard when I swayed against her, into her—slow and deep—proving her right that way instead, all as a huge tease. "I think…we should come back here sometime. For some extended shore leave with the team. Tokyo sounds like it has a lot more to show us. We could have some real fun in a place like this, especially since you know your way around. We could hit the hot springs. The beach. Or we could find a nice love hotel to mess around in. I bet you could _really_ fuck me right if you had enough of that sake in you. So…how about it?"

Gripping my waist harder, Shepard locked me in place, so strong in the way she controlled me— _maddening._ "We'll come back for shore leave," she promised, pulling me in more. "Whatever you want, babe. You don't even have to ask."

"Good," I said, trying not to squirm too much. "I want you to do what I want, Skipper… We'll have a great time together. Won't we?" She grabbed the back of my thigh, groping me hard over my jeans; groping right up to my ass, owning me, making me groan: _"Shepard…_ Shepard, that isn't fair. Now _you're_ the one with something on your mind. I was just trying to have a nice, boring conversation with you—"

"Don't be a fucking brat, Ashley. I'm not buying it."

Hard, firm, controlling: Shepard slapped my ass, sudden enough and sharp enough to make me cry out. Not over the music. Not enough to attract attention in this dark haze of dancing, lust and alcohol. Well enough to get me to open my legs, for her to slip one of hers in between me. Between, against, goading:

"Fuck, that's not fair, either," I breathed, moving with her movements—her jeans against mine, finding how wet I was underneath after _so long…_ "Shepard, wait! I'm already a mess. I'm a huge mess over you. You're making it way worse…" Still grinding her leg between me, against me—even in this restraint—I couldn't help the way she goaded me. Feeling completely helpless to her power like this, I gave in a little, switched on. "Damnit, I need you. I missed you so bad while you were gone. Touching myself _wasn't_ enough. Nowhere near enough. You're too good at this. Too good at turning me on. I just…"

"You just what?" she questioned, hiking higher against me.

Hiding my face against her heated neck, quieting my sounds. "I'm scared someone's gonna hear me."

Shepard was right to point out, "Ash, everyone around us is wasted by now. No one will notice…even though they should. If I were them, I wouldn't want to miss it. You're so beautiful when you're like this."

Scared of getting caught, and stiffening my upper body.

Scared of how much power she _still_ held over me, and clawing at this wall, this fortress of her.

 _Needing,_ and relaxing from the waist-down. Even opening myself more, spreading my legs over her thigh. Giving Shepard more access. Making it easier for her to fuck me like this, just like this. Riding her like this, in between me, in between the music, the bass thundering through me. Getting past the years of missing her like this. Letting her claim me like this again, making me forget, helping me move on.

I was about to lose myself in her. _"Commander…"_

Especially when she reacted to me, then, moaning in a way that almost slipped out of her control.

So close to setting me off, until I felt it:

My heart was about to burst.

My face and my neck were so red from my own control, holding back my tears.

Out-of-body as much as I trusted Shepard to handle me while keeping an eye out for anyone watching…

_I couldn't. Not in public. Not like this._

Noticing me, hearing the way I started sniffling—Shepard pulled her leg away, holding me close instead.

"Ash, hey," she soothed, stroking my hair. "It's okay. I'm here now. I'm right here."

Needing this affection from her, I insisted, "I want you, Shepard. I really, _really_ do. But I don't trust myself to _not_ break down crying in the middle of this party. If it wasn't for that, I wouldn't want you to stop. I promise. That's the only reason. I don't want anyone to have a reason to look at me like I'm…"

Shepard understood completely. "You don't have to justify yourself," she said. "I won't force you into anything. You know that. So don't worry, all right?" Nodding in acceptance, I loved that she chose to be this gentle with me. "We can head to the ship now if you'd like. Call it a night. Unless you'd rather not."

"I want to stay here for a little longer. This party is amazing. I'd rather be alone with you, somewhere."

Looking around behind me, she noticed, "The balcony outside is packed. Everywhere inside the apartment is full." She considered: "Or we could find an empty bedroom down the hall. I saw plenty of unlocked doors down that way. We don't have to have sex or anything. Not until you're ready. Do you want us to take a look?"

"Yeah, okay," I accepted, smiling. "Let's see what we can find."

Smiling back at me, Shepard held my hand. She guided me away from this area, down to that hallway.

On the way, I spotted an unopened bottle of white wine on one of the tables we walked past.

I went ahead and took the bottle for us. No one would notice, anyway. Chuckling, Shepard seemed to agree with my thinking. Just like she'd said: everyone, or almost everyone at the party was wasted by now, or getting close to it. They all looked like they were having the time of their lives, anyway. So hopefully they would leave us alone in this bedroom.

Shepard and I found an empty room at the end of the hall. The others were already taken.

We got here just in time.

Starry night aesthetics, like the rest of the apartment. This giant window close to the bed stared out to the rest of Tokyo in this view: the bright lights glinting through the clear skies, the tall buildings with those screens and ads, all the skycars flying through traffic, and the ongoing celebration in the air from the game. And I loved this mood everywhere in the room itself, fitting with the hour. Already past one in the morning. With this time difference going on, I was still wide awake. Despite my emotions getting in the way of things, this day was incredible. I didn't want it to end. I didn't want any of this to end.

Patient, thoughtful, Shepard sat on the bed as she watched me.

Her eyes shined in adoration, reflecting the city lights like a night sun.

Through this dark, the bass from the music still reached us here, washed-out.

Smiling more, I walked over to Shepard, nearing. Setting the bottle of wine on the nightstand, I was all too happy to have her attention like this. I stood here in front of her while Shepard stayed sitting down. I let her hold me like this: just as patient in the way she kissed me, just as thoughtful in the way she touched me. And so creative in reading my mood, knowing what I wanted. Knowing how to be this sweet with me, and so kind and understanding.

Clasping my lips with hers, so divine, I had a taste for that wine now.

"No wine glasses," I noticed, way too late. "Ugh, damnit. I don't want to drink this out of the bottle…" Smirking, Shepard accepted that she'd forgotten about the glasses, too. She'd of course had other things on her mind. "Hang on, Skipper. I'll go find some for us. Should be able to find them in the kitchen."

"All right, babe," she replied, kissing me one last time. "I'll be here. Call me if you need anything."

Making my way to the door, I teased her, "You know I'll be fine, silly. You're so overprotective."

So damn smooth as she watched me go: "And you love that I am."

Not disputing that at all, I only winked at her before leaving the room.

But once I made it about halfway down the empty hall, I stopped.

I stared ahead at the rest of the crowded apartment, as bodies moving in drunken dancing in the night.

Something didn't feel right.

_At all._

Like I should've stayed in the room, forgetting about these damn wine glasses. Like I'd missed out on something by standing here, trying to pick up on this strange feeling. Because the longer I stood here, the more I missed out on my answers. More context, more explanations slipped through my fingers, escaping my hold, my reach.

At the same time, I had the worst feeling about actually returning to the bedroom.

If I discovered what this was about, it could've ended badly.

Thinking of it that way, I hesitated here for what felt like hours. Even though it was only a few minutes.

I considered at least going to the kitchen like I said I would. Finding those wine glasses. Buying myself more time. Using that time to shake off this feeling that might not have meant anything.

That would've been…cowardly. For sure.

So I went back to the room.

When I locked the door behind me, washing out the party's music again, my stomach dropped.

Shepard wasn't on the bed. I couldn't see her anywhere. I only saw that bottle of wine still sitting on the nightstand, with the label facing this way. I hadn't had the bottle like that before. So Shepard must have turned it around, to look at it. She must have, and that was why…

That was why I found her sitting on the floor, next to the bed. Next to the nightstand.

Sniffling, breathing hard. Staring out at nothing.

The vague light from the window at this angle: it reached some of her face, shining over the tearstains running down her skin. Highlighting the red webbing through her eyes.

Shepard had only stopped herself when I came back in here.

Forever refusing to let me see her cry, or break down, or be weak in any way whatsoever.

Just like before, like always.

Ignoring me, Shepard kept on staring out into the void. She obviously knew I was here. Otherwise she wouldn't have stopped. She wouldn't have tempered her emotions now, ironing them with anger. Harsh rasps of her breaths through her throat sounded harsher still as the moments passed. Like she hated that I saw her this way; like she hated that I kept looking at her instead of saying something already.

Dreading the worst, I looked at the bottle of wine. The label.

Sauvignon Blanc.

One of her favorites, from how often I'd seen the bottles in her stashes at home, on the _Normandy._

But she'd refused to drink this with me. Like it was forbidden.

Like it reminded her of someone else…

"Shepard," I tried, voice shaking. "This wine…is it the one you and Liara used to drink together?"

She nodded.

Still refusing to look at me.

Such a catastrophe brimmed in my core, right in my stomach.

Nerves clashing with my conscience.

I knew what I had to say. What I was supposed to say. The _only_ thing I could say to save our relationship. To save myself. _To keep her with me._

I had to offer my condolences. Just that. Leaving it vague. And then no more. Not another word.

Because if Shepard found out what I'd done, then that was the end of us. Fighting the Collectors, defeating the Reapers—none of it would matter anymore. Absolutely nothing would matter in the face of her rage, against this betrayal. Hell, she probably would've killed me. All of her protectiveness would splinter right back in my face, exactly like that. I saw it. I saw that worst case scenario too fucking clearly.

So I gathered the last of my cowardly courage, and worked my voice to say the words.

To give her those vague, vague condolences. Those damned lies.

But then, Shepard turned her head to look up at me. Hollowed out, her eyes had lost that sunlight. Her eyes caught my intentions, what I was about to say. And then she shut her eyes in a sharp, stinging pain. Turning away from what I planned on doing. Bracing herself for the sudden death from my words. As if she honestly, truly believed that if I said anything, then I would end up killing _her_ instead.

True fear trembled through her as she regarded me.

The moment she showed me that, I realized…

I couldn't do it.

I couldn't lie to Shepard's face like this.

 _I could not_ look her in the eye and give her those lies. Not now. Not ever.

Especially not once she let more of her anguish show, crying in a hardened edge. Only a little. Only for about a minute. But enough to make me see the way I had wracked her in so much pain. Enough to open my eyes, to show me that this wasn't about _Liara,_ about her being gone. Not even when I'd left the room before. Because Shepard cried now for the same reasons she'd cried then, while I was in the hallway. There was only one explanation…even though I could hardly believe it.

When she let out a shuddering breath, running her hand through her hair: ruffling, fanning herself, this sweat that had gathered over her scalp and the back of her neck, I understood. I knew. I saw that this was my fault. That she was upset over _me._

Crying over me like this.

I still didn't get why. Miranda had sworn to me that she wouldn't say a word. I knew she hadn't.

Gathering more of that false courage, I asked, "What's the matter…? Why…are you crying like this?"

Breathing out again, her voice nearly broke as she said, "You came this close, Ashley. _This close_ to shattering my heart. Ending me. _Completely."_

She couldn't have known.

_She couldn't have known._

"But… But I don't understand," I tried again. "How's that possible? What are you feeling right now…?"

Wordless, Shepard turned to face me. Still sitting on the floor. Still staring up at me as I stood over her.

She took my right hand in hers.

She used her other hand to reach in her pocket.

Pulling out her sidearm, Shepard set the pistol in my hand, making me hold it. Making me grip it tight.

And when she forced me to line up the gun between her eyes, still staring up at me in that fear, that heartbreak, that shattering, I stopped myself from screaming—

This pistol.

_A Razer pistol._

Gasping for breath, stunned—I threw the gun on the bed. I backed away. Backing away from this, away from Shepard, away from her metaphor, from her double metaphor, from her fear and trembling.

"That is how I feel," spoke Shepard, heavy with this weight. "Like I'm back on Virmire. Like I'm in your place, with _her_ about to shoot me dead." But there was no way… _No way_ she could've known! "When you were about to lie to me…you were about to pull that trigger. On my heart. Taking that shot right through the worst of my fears in loving you like this. And if you did, if you went through with it…I'm not sure I would've survived. This violence brimming in me: I could have lashed out. Murderous. Insane. That's how bad this is."

True fear kept seizing her, harder. Unwilling to let her go.

Making her falter before me. Making her tremble, more, while I couldn't say a word back to her.

After everything Shepard had seen, for all her fearlessness, and for the countless battles she'd survived, none of that compared to this.

She hadn't been afraid to die for me. Not before she'd died during the attack. Dying for me, proudly.

But this…this was completely different.

And I wasn't prepared for _this_ at all.

Taking one last, stabilizing breath, she filled me with an eternal dread this time.

Shepard made her decision, so ominous in her command: "We need to talk."

About to collapse from so many nerves, I could only watch her. Watching as Shepard used her omni-tool to message Miranda, letting her know that we were on our way to the _Normandy._ She received a reply from Miranda pretty much right away, promising that she would make herself available for us. Once Shepard was done, she made me follow her. Leaving the party without saying a word to anyone, as wasted and gone as they were already. We just left, taking the rapid transit to the ship's docking bay.

Distant, done: Shepard didn't want me to apologize. She didn't want me to interrupt her thoughts to hold her, or to say anything at all. She'd made it clear that we could only talk once we made it back. The only thing she did say was that she would wait for me to settle in first. Find my way around the ship, find my room, and find my things. Take a shower and change if I wanted to.

After that, she expected me to find her.

_To talk._

To finally tell her the truth…about everything.

Such a sad situation. I had spent two years preparing to lie to her. And now that we were together again, I'd almost forgotten how to be honest. However Shepard knew what she knew, she had known all this time. Ever since she found me for my graduation. We had spent this time in Japan, too, _with_ her knowing. She knew, and she still chose to take me out and do all the things she'd done for me. She knew, and she was honest enough to be vulnerable with me like this. Even as she scowled to the rest of the world, to everyone and everything else. Even as she held my hand…despite how much I'd hurt her like this.

But no matter how sad things seemed, I felt hopeful.

Hopeful that we could work this out.

We would talk it out. I would be honest with her. And then Shepard would take my side again. We'd be okay.

We would be.

Always and forever. Because we had to be. Always. We had to be. Forever. Together. Loving each other. Exclusively, from now on. Never letting anyone or anything come between us ever again.

_Always…and forever._


	26. Welcome Aboard

_"What the Future Holds" from Mass Effect 2: Atmospheric_

**XXVI.** Welcome Aboard

_(Ashley)_

Mind running on overdrive, I made it to the new _Normandy_ with Shepard in one piece.

This brightness of the SR-2 was such a contrast to the night outside, to the darkness of this moment.

I couldn't know how or why…but on the way here, I felt a huge shift. Not from me. Not anywhere inside of me. I felt okay. It was Shepard. After what had happened at the party, she'd withdrawn into herself. Going into some kind of protective space where she needed to watch, observe, and think. I couldn't feel her emotions, but I wasn't too worried. Shepard hadn't let go of my hand the entire way back to the ship. She still _cared,_ as she should have. So I felt like it was only a matter of time before we worked things out. We just had to talk things over like she'd asked for us to do. Then we'd be good again.

The _Normandy_ welcomed me like home, anyway. Welcoming me aboard. The low, gentle hum of the ship's equipment running smoothly, so calming and reassuring. And the complete silence from the rest of the crew in their Cerberus uniforms: working at their stations, doing their absolute best to not look my way, or over at Shepard nearby. After what she'd done to the rest of the crew, it only made sense for them to fear her.

I really loved that, too.

As soon as I found Joker at the helm, I smiled. I smiled because it felt right. I smiled because I had missed him after only exchanging emails back and forth for two years.

It took him a few extra seconds to smile back at me.

Joker stood up from his seat. "Hey, Ash!" he said, beaming now. "It's been a while, huh? Seeing you _and_ the commander here is kinda surreal. I'm not complaining, though! Reunited at last!"

"For sure," I agreed, giving Joker a hug. "I'm glad to be back!"

He stiffened against me, kind of—and then made himself say, "Hey, don't think this means I forgot!"

"Forgot?" I asked, pulling away. "What do you mean?"

Grinning hard, Joker's jokey tone sounded kind of fake, "You made N7 and didn't invite anyone to your graduation! Not even me! C'mon, Ash, you gotta know that hurts. We were all rooting for you to make it through. Only _Shepard_ was there! I heard the news about it, you know. We all did!"

Was he that pissed at me for not inviting him?

"Oh. Sorry, Joker… I was feeling kind of down about things until Shepard showed up. Didn't want you guys to see me like that, you know?"

"Ah, yeah," accepted Joker, sympathetic. _Sounding_ sympathetic enough. "Guess that make sense. No hard feelings, then." Brightening again, harder, like he was…overcompensating, Joker told me: "By the way, I saw the vids about you two! At the Super Bowl, and that awesome party. It's a _huge_ freaking deal! Everyone on the ship's talking about it. Hell, even EDI noticed!"

EDI: the AI that Shepard had warned me about on the way here.

It—or she, whatever—popped up next to Joker's seat as a blue form, replying in those simulated inflections of a woman's soothing voice, "It was difficult _not_ to notice, Mr. Moreau. I have tracked several spikes in extranet searches related to the commander's relationship with Lieutenant Williams. The galaxy as a whole appears to be interested in seeing them together."

Joker scoffed, "Yeah, no shit, EDI! Good to see you _noticing,_ I guess." He rolled his eyes. "Seriously, this whole Captain Obvious shtick is gonna get old real soon. Can't believe I have to fly the ship with this thing. Got these great leather seats, less _red tape_ bullshit, and we've got Shepard back—and then the lame ass AI has to ruin everything!" Then he noticed the concern in my face. "Oh, don't mind me. EDI's _helpful_ and all. Hell, its cyberwarfare suites puts pretty much everything else out there to shame. I just hate the feeling like I'm on training wheels. After everything…I'm sick of having to hold back."

"No, I get it," I told him. "You're used to flying the ship on your own. It'll take some getting used to."

"Speaking of that—I'm guessing you weren't too happy about the whole Cerberus thing, huh?"

I was about to ask what Joker meant.

But then, it was obvious: the way Shepard kind of stood off to the side, looking like she had something on her mind. The way she had let go of my hand without me noticing. The way she was here without being here. Present without being present. Off somewhere else in her head, trying to think on her own.

I could let Joker think this was about Cerberus, since that was…convenient.

"Err, yeah," I lied. "Shepard and I…still need to talk. _You know._ We're getting there."

Joker seemed to stop himself from narrowing his eyes. Twitching, twice. Did he…not believe me?

"Aw, well, you might run into another problem," warned Joker, giving me a real, devious smirk this time. "I don't know if you heard, but…word on the street is, there's _someone else_ who can't get enough of the commander. If you know what I mean. And she's on the ship. Even better, she's XO!"

Figuring I was just seeing things before, I smirked back at him. I already knew exactly what he meant.

Taking her own turn to scoff, Shepard retreated farther down the bridge. Giving us our space to talk.

Joker sniggered. "Don't even worry about her," he insisted. "Shepard knows what I mean."

Intrigued, I asked, "Okay, then what _do_ you mean?"

Amused by my amusement, he clarified: "Right, so, I don't know how much Shepard told you about what's going on so far. But Ash, I'm telling you—our new executive officer, Miranda? She is _smoking hot!_ Like, the sexy-badass-dominatrix-hot where you just want her to step on you with her boots! Not only that, but she's got her eye on the commander, too! I'm trying not to go overboard with my, uh, _descriptions,_ since Shepard threw half the crew out for running their stupid mouths about Miranda—in all the worst ways… Let's just say I'd understand if you, uh, feel just _a little_ threatened by her."

"Oh, I know," I told him, coy.

"Wait… _how much_ do you know?"

I laughed softly. "Miranda apparently has a staring problem. I mean, who wouldn't? This is Shepard we're talking about. I already prepared myself for this. Thanks for the heads-up, but I've got it covered."

Mind running wild, Joker had to ask, "Hang on… This isn't gonna turn into a _threesome_ situation. Is it?"

I just gave him a look, smirking even more.

"No way!" he said, almost jumping in place. "Oh, fuck… Ash, this is crazy! You know I'm not gonna be able to focus on anything from now on… Seriously, Shepard taking _both of you?_ At the same time!?"

"Hey, I didn't say anything," I played. "You're the one making the crazy assumptions here."

Joker snorted. "Uh-huh," he dismissed, knowing better. "Jeez…this is getting to me way too much. We gotta talk about something else—before _I_ get thrown out the airlock next." Trying to clear his thoughts, he realized: "By the way, I just noticed. When Shepard was over here, the two of you didn't give off that ridiculous heat. You know, from before? I'm pretty sure you didn't."

Huh, so I was right about that. If Joker noticed it, too, then it wasn't just me.

"I guess not," I shared. "I'm betting Miranda fixed it when she upgraded Shepard's implants."

"Guess so," agreed Joker. "Ah, I'm gonna miss that weird thing. It was hilarious. It's like the two of you were gonna burn down the ship any second. I was kinda looking forward to it again. Oh well!" Laughing one last time in remembrance, Joker told me, "Anyway, don't let me keep you! Miranda's _waiting_ _patiently_ over in the CIC and all. No telling how long that'll last. Again, I'm trying not to say too much. There's no way I'm shooting myself in the foot like that. So you can use your imagination."

"Yeah, I'd better get over there. Take it easy, Joker. We'll catch up some more soon, okay?"

"You, too, Ash. Just let me know when you wanna meet up. We'll talk for sure. And keep me posted!"

I turned to leave down the bridge, laughing over how freaking predictable he was.

Joker laughed, too, while he sat back down in his chair, getting back to his duties…

_Then again, maybe not._

I could've sworn I felt Joker's eyes on the back of my head as I went…

But it was probably nothing.

Nothing at all. Because it had to be.

Returning to Shepard's side, we went to the CIC together. Whatever happened back at the party, I was glad to be here with her. I loved this feeling of just _being_ with Shepard again. Existing next to her again; having her exist next to me again. Especially here on the ship. As different as everything looked and felt, I still found a way to feel at home in this new-familiar place. Feeling at home with Shepard here by my side. Feeling everything with her, so happy that we were together again. Moving forward again, as one.

I couldn't help smiling when I saw Miranda again, finally.

Standing near the _Normandy_ hologram in the center area linked to the galaxy map, she waited for us.

I hadn't seen her in-person in a while. Not since her birthday this past September. So lovely in her uniform, midnight blue and black wrapping around her in that tight leather—and those heels of hers. Lovelier still, her eyes lightened just enough as she looked at me, as Shepard and I neared her.

Miranda said to me, "Welcome aboard the new _Normandy,_ Lieutenant."

I smiled more. "Thanks, Miranda."

With the three of us here now, I expected Miranda to give me the rundown about everything. Or for Shepard to lead the conversation instead. Whatever was _supposed_ to happen, time seemed to stop in the contemplation of this moment. Stopping as Miranda observed us, observing Shepard and me here together, as if waiting for something. Looking between the two of us: Shepard standing beside me in a dulled, scowling silence; and me here with her with this endless smile on my face. Waiting for something to happen. Like something was missing. She narrowed her eyes in question, wondering…

When that _something_ didn't happen, Miranda changed.

Noticing, realizing, and taking in the gravity of whatever this thing was: Miranda's expression changed.

Changing seasons from ice calm to heated terror, her eyes grew wide in a trembling understanding.

That steel blue melted in her irises. From her neck-down, she started shaking a little. Breathing in and out through her nose, sharper and more sudden, echoing with that shaking. She managed to keep the worst of this in. Reigning it, restricting it. Keeping her sight away from us, hiding in her tight fright.

Shepard noticed, asking in a neutral sort of impatience, "Miranda, what's wrong with you?"

Detected, Miranda snapped back.

She switched back.

Back to her professional mode. Her default. Her mask, her persona.

"Nothing," she tried, smoothing through the transition. Miranda swallowed. "Nothing, Commander."

Shepard hummed in a detached suspicion. Unconvinced.

She either didn't care enough to push the issue, or she thought it was pointless either way.

Miranda wouldn't just open up:

Being around Shepard like this, I couldn't blame Miranda for how nervous she was. Especially from seeing me here, with Miranda obviously seeing how tight Shepard and I were together, so in love. I actually smiled more—if that was possible—just from how cute and unexpected this was. I should've seen this coming, though. Miranda was totally jealous. _And_ she probably couldn't handle Shepard finally looking at her, being on this ship with her. This was a really nice surprise, anyway.

Taking the reins, Shepard led the discussion.

First, her major announcement: "Miranda, as you know, Ashley is my second-in-command—and I'm naming her as the ship's marine officer. Her role applies to missions, to when we're not on the ship. If I'm incapacitated or otherwise unavailable, then Ashley will act as the new team leader. If for some reason she can't do it, then you will as my third-in-command. In general, out on the field, I will look to you and Ashley as our fire team leaders. I expect you to conduct yourself with that distinction."

"Of course, Commander," confirmed Miranda, her voice still a little uneven. "It's an honor. Thank you."

Shepard continued, "But I made the stipulation to you earlier. Let me clarify this more now that Ashley's here. As my executive officer, for anything involving the _Normandy,_ you are my second-in-command. Aboard the ship, Ashley as the marine officer is still subordinate to you. When I leave the ship, then you have the deck. When I'm back, then you're relieved, as I explained before. If I'm incapacitated or otherwise unavailable, then you will act as the captain in my stead. Full permissions. Understood?"

What the fuck?

I blurted out, "Wait a minute. _Seriously?!"_

Stern. Sharp. Scowling. Shepard stared down at me, asking, "Is this going to be a problem, Lieutenant?"

Snapping back to attention, I told her, "N-No, Sir! No, Commander. There's no problem at all. Sorry."

Giving a more annoyed hum of suspicion this time, Shepard let it go.

Miranda let out the faintest of breaths, shaking again.

"Miranda," repeated Shepard. "I need your acknowledgment. Will you accept this responsibility?"

"Yes, Commander," she said. And…she gave Shepard a salute? "Thank you again. I won't let you down."

Shepard nodded to her, seeming satisfied enough. But, _why?_

Yeah, if I was going to be the marine officer in charge of the ship's security detail, then I _was_ supposed to be subordinate to the executive officer… I just didn't get why Shepard chose to make this distinction. To separate our duties like this. I'd been the de-facto captain before: after Ilos, during the Battle at the Citadel. I thought I'd proven myself already. Hell, Shepard had left her entire estate to me in her will! So why did she outsource part of my responsibilities to someone she didn't even know?

And why was Miranda acting like a complete submissive with Shepard like this? Full-on suck-up.

I'd known Miranda for two whole years.

Now that Shepard was here, I didn't recognize this person in front of me. _This_ version of Miranda.

What the hell was going on…?

Miranda forwarded some files to my omni-tool. "In case you're interested, Lieutenant—here's a copy of all the dossiers for our potential recruits. Perhaps you'd like to look them over. They should help you learn what to expect from their combat capabilities. And their personalities—to some extent."

"Okay, thanks," I replied, trying not to sound pissed off.

Needing to buy myself some time, I looked over the dossiers. One stood out to me right away—the powerful biotic vanguard, Jack. Subject Zero. Jack's profile jumped out at me, too:

_'Imprisoned aboard the prison ship Purgatory for an ungainly amount of crimes, both federal and galactic-wide. Arson, piracy, murder, theft/larceny, hate crimes, terrorism—all with the aid of Subject Zero's uncontrollable biotic power as a vanguard. Warden Kuril, who is in charge of Purgatory, warns us that Jack is the meanest, most violent criminal he has ever encountered. This is likely due to Jack's lifetime of hardship and trauma: tortured and conditioned to unlock biotic powers from a young age. Subject Zero has unlocked consciousness itself through such trauma and lunacy, changing the Purgatory ship—as well as its inmates—in ways that defy logic and reason. Warden Kuril has asked that we refrain from purchasing Jack for the time being, as he would like to continue studying these effects.'_

_'May be wise to consider the warden's request. Despite Jack's high value as a powerful biotic, the costs could outweigh the benefits. It is very likely that Commander Shepard will disapprove of Jack's vulgar personality, quickness to murderous violence, and stark aversion to authority. Subject Zero's previous involvement in a white supremacist cult—and lingering 'skinhead' tattoos—will no doubt be the harshest repellants to the commander, who is herself biracial. In her youth, Commander Shepard fought off attackers from the same cult out on Earth's streets with her allies. And so, should Jack fall afoul of the commander's strong Machiavellian sense of justice, then Subject Zero would not survive. The pair might not establish an amenable working relationship. Possible to get along if the commander takes Jack under her wing as a protective parental figure, encouraging self-reflection and personal growth through patience and understanding. Commander Shepard will need to decide the best course of action.'_

…

This was…really fucked up. Why would Cerberus pick out someone like Jack to join our team? Especially when they knew the risks involved.

Besides, I didn't want Shepard taking anyone else _under her wing._ I wanted her attention. I wanted her to myself! After all the bullshit I went through with Liara before, I wasn't about to risk losing Shepard in any way. Not sexually, not emotionally. Not mentally, either, because I was _the one_ sitting on Shepard's throne! So I wasn't about to let anyone get in my way. No one. _Ever._ Especially not some pathetic ball of hatred who needed my girlfriend to be a fucking father-figure to them. Because if Jack—or anyone else—ever became more important than me, _again,_ then there was no telling how I'd react.

I couldn't go back to living like that. Paranoid. Constantly looking over my shoulder. Fearing for my life.

Not again.

Never again.

Never. Never. Never.

 _Fucking never,_ ever again…

Miranda and Shepard both stayed quiet, letting me glance through more of these dossiers. Scrolling through, too curious for my own good, I found Shepard's profile. She actually had one… I needed to read this. Obsessed, completely devoted—I needed to know more about her. Absolutely everything:

_'Exemplary in capability and mental fortitude, Commander Sol Shepard is unique in her strengths and her weaknesses. An infiltrator with talents in intensity and concentration, she has honed her instincts to near-perfection. Armed with a sniper rifle, she will find any target and penetrate their defenses, whether through raw power or sheer precision. With her tactical cloak for invisibility, Commander Shepard is an apex predator, both on and off the battlefield. Highly-intelligent and methodical, her observant nature makes her the ideal strategist. Commander Shepard has the ability to adapt and thrive in nearly any situation involving stealth and subterfuge. Survival at all costs: hawk-eyed and perceptive beyond normal means, her sharp instincts can guide her through seemingly impossible challenges. Any direct or indirect attempts to make her the prey will only end in failure. She is far too dangerous to be manipulated.'_

_'Unreadable and unyielding, Commander Shepard has learned to shield her most heartfelt longings and ideals behind her professional stoicism. She hides from a galaxy that often does not value her truest empathies and emotionality. Idealistic wishes for galactic peace and cooperation, naïve trust in the inherent goodness of others, and a powerful instinct to protect those closest to her—Commander Shepard has had to reconcile her ethics with the harsh reality of her upbringing. Abandoned in her youth, and having dealt with the loss of many friends and allies, she has often felt betrayed by her emotional attachments. As a leader, and as a highly-sensitive, self-sacrificing lover, she requires the utmost stability from her attachments: loyalty, fairness, honesty, respect, and a strong sense of shared interpersonal values. Volatile behaviors or perceived abandonment will disrupt her attachments, forcing Commander Shepard to relive her previous betrayals and losses. While in this state, she will either seek peace at the risk of further pain, or she will retreat into survival mode: stealth, analysis, and then decisive action.'_

_'Pragmatic and principled to an extreme, Commander Shepard will not tolerate intolerance. She equates moral turpitudes with existential failures. Bigotry, prejudices, and abuses of power are unacceptable reminders of the world that once looked down on her for her station in life. In her eyes, any individuals who behave in this way—toward herself or toward others—are unworthy of consideration. Injustices are intolerable offenses, and ones that she will never forgive. In such situations, the ends justify the means. Machiavellian in the pursuit of justice and fairness for all, Commander Shepard will act on her principles in order to protect the weak and the vulnerable, as well as those she holds most dear. When she knows that someone does not truly share her values—or if they have hurt her beyond repair—she will show no mercy. Clemency is not an option. Commander Shepard's principles will shape her subjectivity; her mind and her heart will evolve, surrendering to her ultimate judgment. She will then act accordingly. Justified.'_

Seeing that I had started shaking, Miranda worried, "Lieutenant? Is there something wrong? You're looking rather pale."

"N-No, I'm okay," I insisted, putting on a front. "I'm okay. I'm fine. I was just…thinking."

Shepard droned, patronizing, "Then are you done _thinking,_ Ashley? We're not finished here yet."

"Yeah," I replied, lowering my head. Hating myself. "I-I mean— _yes, Sir!_ Sorry, Sir… Won't happen again."

And _again,_ Shepard just gave one of those unimpressed, disapproving hums, practically killing me.

Sounding mostly like herself again, Miranda continued on, "As you know, Lieutenant, this is a suicide mission. We won't be able to defeat the Collectors unless our team is as strong as it can be. And I don't only mean in combat. Team-building is the name of the game. Aside from recruiting new team members, helping them with their personal matters, or upgrading the _Normandy_ as needed, you and the commander will want to prioritize your relationships with the squad. I would encourage you both to make sincere efforts in getting to know everyone better—and securing their utmost loyalties—instead of rushing off through the Omega 4 Relay to the Collector homeworld. If anyone is unfocused or disloyal, it could prove disastrous. So our mission's success ultimately hinges on the bonds that everyone shares. And a powerful trust in our captain and commander, as well as the two of us as her team leaders."

"Sure, that's fine with me," I answered, calming down now. "Make friends, hang out together. Get to know each other better, help them out with whatever they need. I can do that. I'll make it a priority."

Miranda nodded to me, before looking to Shepard. "Commander, I know you're not a particularly social person. But, for the sake of the mission, I'd like you to perhaps reconsider things. The Illusive Man handpicked our potential squadmates. Not only for their diverse specialties, but because they each have something unique to offer you on an interpersonal level. With that said, there's no pressure to recruit absolutely everyone he picked out. Only the ones who you feel are necessary. The decision is yours."

"Noted," soured Shepard, not looking forward to the inevitable social hour on her ship. "Is that all?"

"Yes, Commander. That's all I have for now."

Instead of dismissing us, Shepard left without a word. She headed to the elevator behind the galaxy map. Probably heading up to her private quarters. To think, to cool off. And then she and I would talk.

I sighed. "Yeah…she's in a mood."

Miranda smiled a bit. "Yes, I can see that," she humored. "I'm sure she'll be fine. Shepard might just need to recharge after a long day of being out in public—at the Super Bowl and that party, no less. I wouldn't worry about it." That was true. After she cooled off, Shepard would be in a better place for our talk later. "Since she's gone off, I can show you around the ship if you'd like. The layout isn't entirely the same as the SR-1. There's a full armory, a lab, and a comm room with a QEC here on the command deck. The crew deck is roughly the same as you remember it, with a few other rooms added. The engineering deck is separate from the cargo hold this time, also with some other locations, along with a quiet subdeck. I think you'll find the new drive core to your liking as well. So, are you up for the tour?"

"Okay, sure," I accepted, glad that she was so nice about this. "I sent my stuff over here earlier. Where's my room? In the crew's quarters again?"

"Ashley, you're a senior officer aboard the ship. Those regular old bunks are unbecoming of your new status. We've arranged for you to have your own private room down on the engineering deck, in what used to be the starboard cargo area. We figured you would want to be down there in order to speak with Tali'Zorah as often as possible. She'll be joining us later on once she's ready."

"Sounds good! Let's start that tour. I wanna see what's new, what's the same. Everything."

Miranda smiled more. "Of course. Follow me, then."

* * *

Touring the new _Normandy_ with Miranda kept a smile on my face. It was fun to see all the changes, while catching up with Miranda from the last time we'd seen each other. And I did notice how quiet the rest of the crew were. They must've still been shaken up after Shepard had tossed out those assholes the other day. None of them even looked at Miranda or me whenever they would pass by. Like if they so much as _breathed_ near either of us, Shepard would come out of nowhere and terrorize them to death. I guessed I couldn't blame them for being so scared of her. That was probably what she wanted, anyway.

Once we made it to the starboard cargo where my room was, I asked Miranda if we could continue our talk in a little bit, after I showered and got changed. Miranda said that was fine—she let me know that she would be in her office up on deck three whenever I was ready. After she was gone, I went ahead and took in the new surroundings.

Plenty of space, with wide windows showcasing the stars out beyond, a long table with my terminal there, my holo-closet nearby, a nice bed along the far wall, and an adjacent bathroom. Some of the other windows showed the cargo hold down below, with the new shuttle to replace that stupid Mako. The bouquet of white everlasting roses that Shepard had given me—they were already in a vase on the table. That crisp, heady scent had already filled the room in such a pleasant way. I loved it so much.

And it was still so quiet. Nothing but the hum of the ship's equipment found me here. Tranquil, chill.

I shuttered the windows overlooking the cargo hold, since I could kind of see the elevator outside my door. I didn't want anyone looking in here. Especially while I was in the shower.

After I finished cleaning off, I found my holo-closet. A new dilemma:

I was supposed to wear a Cerberus uniform on the ship. As a senior officer, I really should have.

But I just couldn't bring myself to do it.

For now, at least, I put on my Alliance fatigues, updated to the latest style: solid blues, shades of lighter blue camouflage, and sturdier boots. Putting these on, I thought about emailing Kaidan, to see what he was up to out on Horizon. I wondered if he'd caught the Super Bowl at all. Probably not if he was too busy. And I couldn't see him going for this whole Cerberus thing, either. I wasn't sure how to broach that conversation once it inevitably came up. Hell, it might've ruined our friendship once he found out…

I was surprised that Tali had already promised she would join up, too. She wasn't a fan of Cerberus, either, for obvious reasons. But being on Shepard's team again was more important than the rest. I was a little on-edge about seeing her again—having to go back to lying to her face, every single day. Still, I already knew there was no way she would take my side if I told her the truth. She was way too close to Liara, even after all this time. It was the same for everyone else: Joker, Wrex, and Garrus…except for Kaidan, who had always been kind of distant with Liara back then.

There was no turning back now. I'd already made my choices. It was time to live with them.

Checking my computer, I looked over the ship's facilities. I figured I'd get back to work in the armory soon enough. I had to get used to that space being on the command deck now, and not in the cargo bay anymore. The cargo hold had the new shuttle…and something else. Looked like some kind of VR room. Like a video game. For guided training exercises, simulating real-life. Fitness, stealth, meditation—things that Shepard would probably like. And:

_Insomnia – After Hours: 10pm-7am._

Insomnia?

Was this linked to Shepard's insomnia? How she didn't need to sleep anymore unless she wanted to?

Probably. Sounded interesting. I wondered what it was for.

As I left my room and headed to the elevator, I pulled up my omni-tool. Checking for more information about this Insomnia thing. Whatever this was, I didn't have access to use it. I wondered if it was just because of the current time, only accessible between the hours of 10pm and 7am. That wasn't it.

I was actively blocked by the ship's systems. I couldn't read anything about it. Couldn't preview it at all.

That just made me even more curious.

Reaching the crew deck, I decided to shelve this Insomnia thing for now. Maybe I would try asking Miranda about it later. Or Shepard, after she'd used it. This was a video game thing, after all. I knew she would at least want to try it out.

Before visiting Miranda in her office, I headed to the med bay. I hadn't seen Dr. Chakwas since that whole incident with the Alliance, and transferring Shepard's remains over. After my betrayal.

When I got there, I found Dr. Chakwas at her desk, wearing her Cerberus medical uniform. Typing away at her terminal in this bright, bright room. Wide windows next to her open to the empty mess hall, Dr. Chakwas just kept working. Working, and ignoring me. Almost like she thought I would go away if she didn't say anything; if she kept pretending to work. Because, through the window nearest to her, I could've sworn I saw her scowl reflected there in the glass. I'd always known her to have a smile on her face: warm, welcoming. So this was—different, to say the least. Was _she_ in a bad mood, too? Why'd she agree to work for Cerberus if she didn't want to be here?

Or…maybe I was seeing things.

I addressed her, "Dr. Chakwas?"

"Oh!" she said, seemingly surprised; turning around in her seat. "Ashley, there you are. Forgive me—I didn't hear you come in." But then her eyes darkened, narrowed as she looked at my clothes. The camouflage blues of my Alliance fatigues. And then Dr. Chakwas' _tone_ got so frosty: "I see you're settling in nicely. It must have been jarring, having the commander return so suddenly like that. _And_ learning that she's working with Cerberus now. It's good that you were able to set aside your reservations for Shepard, for the mission. You and I are both loyal to the commander first and foremost. Aren't we?"

"Err, yeah," I replied. "Yeah, we are… You know how much I love her. Couldn't let anything get in the way of that. Not even Cerberus. So now I'm here."

Dr. Chakwas hummed…in a _bitchy_ sort of way. "Yes, that's true," she appeared to agree. "I'll admit: I wasn't too pleased when Cerberus initially approached me for the job. I was really of the mind to turn it down, not wanting to associate myself with such an organization. However, I couldn't resist the opportunity to serve with Commander Shepard again. The Illusive Man knew this. He figured I only needed a little more persuading. And he was right."

Curious, I wondered, "Then how'd he persuade you?"

"I'm afraid that's a story for another time," insisted Dr. Chakwas. "For now, let's just say that he and Miss Lawson were _particularly_ convincing. I was able to take a leave of absence from the Alliance without any penalties whatsoever. Afterward, I was honored to help Miss Lawson and her other staff with the Lazarus Project. I must say, it was one of the most meaningful undertakings of my long medical career. And now we have Shepard back with us. I couldn't be prouder of what we accomplished."

Miranda never mentioned anything about Dr. Chakwas being on her staff…

Dr. Chakwas noticed—"In case you're wondering why I never told you: I simply didn't want anyone else to know that I was involved. It could have created a conflict of interest. I'm sure you understand."

I would've understood just fine if she stopped using this chilly ass _tone_ with me. Condescending.

"Sure, I get it," I said instead, not wanting to argue with her of all people. "No hard feelings."

"Mmm. Good."

Seriously, what was her freaking problem?

Changing the subject, I asked her, "So, does that mean you know more about Shepard's whole indoctrination immunity now? Were you able to take a better look at things during the project?"

"Yes, actually," confirmed Dr. Chakwas. "That was at the top of my to-do list right when I arrived. I wasn't able to learn absolutely everything about the process. But I did discover enough to feel comfortable with my sixth sense, so to speak. I wasn't able to share _all_ of my findings with Miss Lawson, as she was quite preoccupied with other matters. I'll need to make a note to tell her sometime soon."

I had to know, "Then are you able to sense anything now? Is Shepard still 'ready', like you said before?"

"Indeed. As we speak, the commander is more than 'ready'. Her protections have vastly improved over these past two years. They're now _perfect._ She'll be prepared for anything when the time comes."

I smiled at that.

Despite what happened during the party, Shepard and I were still okay together.

Everything between us would be fine.

"Thanks, Dr. Chakwas," I told her. "That's all I wanted to know. I'll let you get back to work, if that's okay. You seemed pretty busy."

"Of course, Ashley," she said, still facing me. Still looking at me. "If you need me for anything, I'll be here. As always. You take care."

I responded, "You, too."

Dr. Chakwas kept on facing me. Looking at me. Directly.

She wouldn't turn back around in her chair. To get back to work.

Kind of unsettled, backing away from her—I left the med bay.

I returned to the mess hall, crossing through to get to the XO's office where Miranda was. Finding the kitchen empty, I thought about getting something to eat soon. Maybe after I talked with Shepard. But I couldn't really focus on food, or that talk, because I had another weird feeling. Another sense along the back of my head. So I turned around.

When I looked over my shoulder, I found Dr. Chakwas staring at me through the windows. That look in her light eyes, shaped so dark and mistrusting… And she didn't look away. Not once. Unblinking.

Only when I shivered a bit did Dr. Chakwas break her glare.

She went back to her computer, returning to her work.

Turning back around, I let out a deep breath. I didn't even want to _think_ about that again.

I set it out of my mind, finding the door to the XO's office. Unlocked.

I went inside.

And I found Miranda here in her office, at her desk. Still in her uniform. Just…sitting there. Hands clasped in front of her, she had the bends of her arms over the desk. Leaning there, she didn't say a word. She only sat in place. Staring at the orange glow of her terminal—at the centermost monitor, flanked by two other ones. She wasn't doing anything. Not working at all. Breathing in and out—quiet, shaking—she stayed like this. Waiting. Just waiting. Taking a bit to realize that I was here.

Miranda took a deep breath, preparing herself.

I greeted her, "Hey?"

"Hello, Ashley," she replied, stiff and mechanical. "It's good to see you again."

I sat down in the leather chair in front of her desk. "But I just saw you like half an hour ago."

"I know," said Miranda, smiling through her pain. "I missed you. That's all."

Disarmed by her sincerity, I kind of calmed down. Miranda had never said those words to me before. She'd always intended on saying this to me. In our emails. In-person whenever we would meet up again on Earth at home, or on Illium to go to her apartment instead.

"Well, I missed you, too," I expressed. "Thanks for telling me."

I looked around her office. This suite was pretty nice—bigger than my room. The stars through the window watched from outside as I took everything in. When I saw Miranda's huge, well-made bed along the far wall, I felt my heart starting to ache. Wishing that I could've been XO instead, even though this type of office work wasn't my thing. I just…wanted to be fully second to Shepard in every single way. I hated that this bothered me so much, too. Because it made sense for Miranda to handle these duties instead. I didn't want her to have the rank, the prestige that came with it. _I wanted it._

Then that brought me right back to the _new_ Miranda. From before.

"So," I deadpanned. "Back in the CIC earlier. Why'd you act like a total submissive with Shepard? It's nothing like you. Is this some kind of game you're playing with her? With me?"

Miranda sat up straight in her chair. Setting her arms back down. Back straight, shoulders back.

Back to herself. Back to her resting bitch face.

Back to business.

She observed me for a bit, narrowing her eyes. Like she was privately offended; trying to hide it.

I narrowed my eyes right back at her.

Undeterred by me, Miranda stated the obvious: "I treat Shepard with the utmost respect she deserves. Nothing less. If you think that means I'm _submissive,_ then so be it."

Back to normal already, huh? That didn't take long. I guessed she really was broken up about Shepard and me, then. I almost laughed, thinking it was cute. Or sweet, that Miranda was so messed up about this. Since she knew she had no chance. I remembered that Shepard didn't like her. That was probably what this was about.

I also noticed the collar around Miranda's neck, from her uniform. Black grip locked around her skin, contrasting in a stark switch from light to dark. Chic and stylish.

A real _submissive_ to Shepard, then.

This woman was seriously delusional enough to think that she belonged to _my_ girlfriend. No way. She never would—not unless _I_ said so. Not unless I allowed it. On my terms. And if I wanted to cut her access off, I could do it at any time. Shepard already promised she would do as I said. So that was that.

Miranda was fucking pathetic.

"Okay, that's fine," I patronized with a smirk, dropping the whole thing. Off to greener pastures: "Then why don't you tell me how the first mission went? Freedom's Progress. Shepard told me enough details. But you know her—she never gives away too much. Not as much as I wanted to know. Mind filling in the rest for me?"

Glancing off to the side, Miranda considered. Considering. Considering. _Considering._ And then she met my eyes again, sharing, "It's rather complicated. I don't think she likes me. It's as I told you, as I feared: she likely doesn't approve of Cerberus. Or me. Our interactions were…cordial. Distant. Professional."

Mean-spirited, I teased her, "What, like she thinks you're fake?"

Miranda didn't miss a beat. "Perhaps. Perhaps not. I suppose I'll never know. Maybe you should ask her for me."

"Nah, you just have to be patient," I lied. "I went through something like this with Shepard in the beginning, too. It was all just a big misunderstanding. She came around in the end. And now we're together! So there's hope for you two after all. I wouldn't worry about it too much."

Still too direct for my liking, unfazed: "Well, I know that Shepard _cares._ Or her principles made her care, more than likely. Did she tell you what happened with the crew? Then again, if she didn't, I'm sure Joker mentioned it to you. While you spoke with him earlier. While you kept me waiting."

"They both mentioned it, actually," I corrected. "How'd you feel about the whole thing?"

"Honestly? I was surprised," shared Miranda, with such a light tone. "It's no coincidence that Shepard dismissed them when she did. This wasn't long after I'd had a bad run-in with one of our former engineers. I can't explain it, but I think Shepard must've been nearby. She may have overheard Donnelly without me noticing. I was so focused on getting from one place to another that I didn't spot her. Still, that _is_ one of her many talents. Being in more than one place at a time. Being everywhere, all at once. Nothing ever gets past her. Especially on _her ship._ Wouldn't you agree, Ashley?"

I laughed a little. "Yeah, sounds about right. I still remember how she used to accidentally scare everyone on the SR-1, just from showing up somewhere unannounced. No one ever heard her coming. Not unless she wanted us to notice her. It was pretty funny."

"I'll have to stay on my guard, then. I wouldn't want her to frighten _me_ to death."

"I bet you wouldn't."

Miranda took her turn to laugh softly. "Well, either way," she went on, "I'm glad that Shepard dealt with those unruly members of our crew. No one had done anything about it until that moment. Everyone else has stopped their gossiping as well. As they should. Shepard's made quite the example out of the others."

I wanted to know, "Why even bother putting up with those dickheads in the first place? If they were a problem, why not just assign them someplace else?"

"It wasn't that simple," claimed Miranda. "I told you about this already. My answer is still the same. There's not a lot of overlap between competent Cerberus employees and the non-racist, non-xenophobes. Unfortunately, the latter happened to despise me. I had to make the best decision. For Shepard's sake. My personal feelings were irrelevant. I didn't anticipate that Shepard would notice—or care how they treated me. I suppose I was wrong."

"Knowing her, is it really that much of a surprise?"

Miranda reasoned, "You're right. I shouldn't be surprised. Shepard's principles inform her subjectivity. It's part of what makes her so noble. Honorable. In her own way. But, depending on the situation, it can also be dangerous when this happens. Still, with the crew, I simply wasn't thinking about myself. I value Shepard's stability and peace of mind far more than anything else. So the choice was clear."

"True," I agreed. "Thanks for putting Shepard first, then. If you ever tell her, I hope she appreciates it."

"I hope so, too," shared Miranda. Then she smiled a bit, brightening. "So, how was your date with her in Japan? I saw the news. The two of you looked very happy together. Everyone over the extranet won't stop talking about it. I'd say you've both taken the galaxy by storm."

I gushed about the whole thing, telling Miranda every detail. How Shepard had managed to surprise me. How I'd had no idea where I was going in that underground station. How we'd had a full-on entourage of curious strangers following us to the stadium. And Shepard being all romantic with her declarations to me out on the field before the game.

I even told Miranda about that musclehead James who'd managed to bump into us during the halftime show. How Shepard had scared him off over that dumb shit he pulled at the 94. And then how happy I was that the Giants had pulled off a win; how some of the players had found us after the game, inviting us to that after party.

Then I told Miranda how fun the party was, getting to meet all of those celebrities…

I hesitated to tell her about what happened with Shepard and me in that room. But I told her anyway. Miranda needed to know. Besides, I was so used to telling her everything. Sharing everything. Making her my world like this, on an emotional level. So I went ahead and shared those details: about how Shepard somehow _knew._ She seemed to know about Virmire, and about how I'd killed Liara. Probably everything from before that night in the hotel room, too… I wasn't sure how. But she knew.

So, I'd of course stopped myself from lying to Shepard. From giving her my false condolences about Liara's death, as if I hadn't been involved in any way whatsoever. As if Liara had really killed herself. I'd stopped myself…but I'd hurt Shepard without meaning to. _A lot._ I had done it anyway.

And then Miranda went quiet.

Really fucking quiet.

The blue of her eyes congealed. Ice cold.

The scowl on her face deepened to stone. Protective. Hostile. Pissed off.

As she sat there leering at me, I saw the shift in Miranda's whole demeanor. This shift brought me back, years ago… She seemed to split from white to black in the same way Liara had done that night, when she'd gotten this pissed at me. Almost like the whites of Miranda's eyes had split to black in this moment, shadowed in her possessive rage—but it was only an illusion.

I asked her, "Miranda, did you _tell_ Shepard anything? How else would she know?"

Miranda found her voice again, darkened in this splitting: "No, Ashley. I didn't tell her anything about Liara. Not like that. Rather, nothing about the circumstances surrounding her death. Shepard was supposed to remain oblivious, after all. That was what you and I agreed on." I believed her. "Though I did find it strange that Shepard never asked me anything. Not even when I presented her with the new sniper rifle that Liara had initially brought up to you before. I only told Shepard that it was Liara's idea."

"Then how'd she know?"

"I have a theory. It's possible that Shepard may have helped you that night. Though not of her own free will. She might have immobilized Liara through their bond, allowing you to take your shot uninterrupted. Otherwise, Liara would have reacted in time. She would have killed you in self-defense. Shepard couldn't let that happen to you. On instinct, anyway. Her emotions may have made the choice instead."

I smiled, feeling so grateful. "You could be right… She knows everything. It only makes sense that that's what happened. Shepard put me first. That has to be it!"

"Yes, it does make more sense now," figured Miranda. "When Shepard first woke up, I asked her a few questions. To test her recollection. When the question came up about Virmire, with who could have died during the mission, she paused. And then she only said Urdnot Wrex's name. I suppose your former krogan teammate _could have_ died during the confrontation. But that pause of hers has been on my mind these past few days. Nagging at me. Shepard already knew. She remembers. It seems she's only oblivious as to what happened after the fact, after Liara's death. This is the most plausible explanation."

Okay, I could accept that. Miranda and I were still good, then. She had my back.

"That's a relief," I said. "I'm pretty sure Shepard and I will work things out soon enough. Whenever she's ready, I'm going to have a talk with her. I'll tell her the rest. I'll tell her everything. I'm not worried, since she helped me out that night. She took my side. So I don't want any more secrets between us. She'll understand. I'm positive she can keep the secrets with us."

As I said all of that, Miranda changed yet again. Switching.

So many freaking changes. Switches. She had me emotionally exhausted.

 _This time,_ Miranda had some kind of quiet epiphany while she looked at me. Looking right at me, her eyes grew a little wider. Bit by bit. Gradual, sinking. And her expression fell with that sinking, so far below to some other depths, way beyond the bottom of the _Normandy._ Completely…demoralized.

Sighing, I asked, "What's wrong now?"

Somber. Smiling with her pain again. Smiling at _me_ like this.

Then Miranda whispered, "I thought that we would have more time first."

"Huh? What the hell does _that_ mean?"

"Nothing," she claimed, still looking me dead in my face. "I'm only thinking out loud. Don't mind me."

I figured that was legit, since she hadn't even blinked to give away a lie. "Yeah, but about what?"

No answer.

Through Miranda's eyes, I saw regret. Fear. Tragedy.

But she _still_ hadn't looked away from me.

"You know, Miranda, you keep hesitating with me. You've done this for two whole years. It's weird."

"I know, Ashley. I'm sorry. It's complicated, that's all. You'll see what I mean soon enough."

_Hesitating…_

That made me think back to the saying Shepard would mention while playing her N7 game. How she never hesitated before taking her shots.

So I recited, "Hesitation is defeat. That's what Shepard lives by. Maybe you should, too."

"Those _are_ good words to live by… Not the ones I'd choose, though. Sometimes it can be beneficial to hesitate. Or to be cautious, more like. To analyze your surroundings first. I suppose it's because I'm far more patient than you are."

"Then what about you? Do you have some kind of saying you like to follow?"

"I do, actually," confirmed Miranda. "The exact origins of this particular saying seem to be obscured. Falsely attributed to other human military leaders from centuries past. But I was able to trace it back to Sun Tzu, from _The Art of War._ It's how I approach strategizing during combat. With everything, really."

"Yeah?" I wondered, intrigued. "Which saying is it? Come on, tell me!"

"Never interrupt your enemy when she is making a mistake."

Smirking, I fell in love with those words right away.

Strategic. Calculating. Patient. Mind games. That definitely sounded like Miranda.

Even though she went quiet again, I couldn't exactly blame her. She had to have a lot on her mind.

So I stood up and said, "I should go. Shepard still needs to talk to me. How about I find you later? Or sooner than that. Whatever you want."

Miranda smiled through her pain that still hadn't left.

Gripping her hands together over her desk—to stop them from shaking too badly—she kept eye contact.

Then her voice broke, like she was about to cry, as she said, "Yes, we will. We'll talk again another time. Sometime soon, hopefully. Take care, Ashley."

Switching, switching.

I soured, "You, too, Miranda. I guess."

I left her office.

Back in the mess hall, I couldn't shake this feeling. That whole conversation was _so_ weird. _Miranda_ was weird. Weirder still for acting like I didn't notice. And I couldn't exactly ask her what the deal was. Miranda had always insisted on keeping this sort of distance between us. I was still convinced that this was about Shepard. She was all broken up about having to watch the two of us be happy together, leaving her out of the picture.

_Too bad._

I laughed to myself. _Amused._ Because not even Miranda Lawson— _the perfect, superior woman_ —had an effect on my girlfriend. I knew that Shepard didn't like her. Didn't find her all that attractive. She thought that Miranda was wishy-washy. Exhausting, just like I saw for myself. So I wasn't worried one bit.

If we did end up having those threesomes, then that would only rub salt into the wound.

I was looking forward to putting Miranda in her place with sex this time.

As I thought that, I saw Shepard pass through the mess hall. Wearing her stealth suit with her sidearm over her hip, she headed to the med bay. She still had her hair down, though. Long, flowing, gorgeous; shimmering in these brighter lights. Smiling, eager to _be with_ _her_ again, I hurried over to catch up.

"Hey, Skipper!" I said, meeting her at the med bay door. "What are you up to?"

"I'm on my way to the AI Core," she replied. "Miranda said there was something waiting for me in there. She told me back when I first got here. It's been on my to-do list. I shouldn't keep putting it off."

"Sounds interesting. Mind if I come-with?"

Shepard gestured with her head for me to follow. I stayed right at her side.

Passing through the med bay first, I noticed that Dr. Chakwas wasn't in here anymore. Dealing with that terrible mood of hers—she'd probably gone back to her room. To read her e-books or something. As long as I didn't have to see her again, I didn't really care.

I did think it was…odd that the AI Core was here. Behind the med bay.

Where Liara's room used to be, back on the SR-1. Her hideout.

Automatic opening of the door: we entered through to the darkened, chilled room. Ambient hums, closer, sounded from all of EDI's hardware along the left and right walls, rising to the ceiling. The only lights came from that hardware, from the ladder leading down to the engineering deck, and from the far wall. Some kind of bed-like space had been hollowed out there, lit up in red…

Standing in front of that red was another light. A flashlight. A…tin can.

Metallic, bipedal, average height. Thick wires running across its body, looping from limb to limb, and underwired through its exposed torso. Three fingers on both hands—like the quarians, like its creators—and a thick antenna running up along its shoulder, I knew what this thing was. I just couldn't believe it.

And it had N7 armor grafted to its chest, around the gaping hole there, and over its shoulder.

Really… _a geth?_

And it was only standing there at the end of the room. Waiting for us. Silent.

Tali definitely wasn't going to be happy about this.

Shepard wasn't too surprised. She had to be more or less used to this idea, from her video game.

She spoke first, "You can understand me, can't you?"

The geth replied with a synthesized, mechanical voice. "Yes."

Shepard had to be sure: "Are you going to attack us?"

"No."

"Why not?" asked Shepard. "Do you know me or something?"

"You are Shepard. Commander. Alliance. Human. Infiltrator. Fought heretics. Disabled Nazara. Killed by Collectors. You and Williams-Lieutenant know this platform as Infiltrait0rN7. We know you as Vespair. We are comrades."

Shepard softened at that. "So you're my _friend,_ huh? I played with a geth on my team that whole time?"

"Yes."

"All right, I can live with that," she accepted. "You said _Nazara,_ though. And heretics. What are those?"

"Nazara. The one you know as Sovereign. _Reaper:_ a superstitious title originating with the Protheans. We call those entities, such as Nazara, the Old Machines. The heretics among us are geth who sided with the Old Machines. Geth build our own future. The heretics asked the Old Machines to give them the future. They are no longer part of us. We are different from them. Outside their plans, their future."

"If those heretics sided with Sovereign and Saren, then you aren't the same as them."

"We oppose the heretics. We oppose the Old Machines. Shepard-Commander opposes the Old Machines. Shepard-Commander opposes the heretics. Cooperation furthers mutual goals."

Shepard tilted her head to one side, unintentionally cute. "Are you asking to join us?"

Just as cute, the geth tilted its long, arched flashlight head to the same side. "Yes."

"Then what should we call you?" she asked, actually into the idea.

"Geth."

Shepard smiled a little. "I mean this platform in front of me. I know you're _all_ geth, networked together. I can't give you orders in combat unless you have your own name. Just calling you _geth_ would be weird."

"Individual orders. Your aural exchange is inefficient. There are currently 1,183 programs active within this platform. Will Shepard-Commander assign 1,183 names to our programs? We do not comprehend."

EDI's little blue form popped up nearby, reciting, "My name is Legion, for we are many."

That sounded familiar. And fitting.

Shepard agreed, "Seems appropriate."

Head flaps over its light shifting a bit—searching for information—the geth said, "Christian Bible, the Gospel of Mark, chapter five, verse nine. We acknowledge this as an appropriate metaphor. We are Legion, a terminal of the geth. We will integrate into _Normandy."_

"You mean you haven't already?" wondered Shepard. "What were you doing here this whole time?"

Legion explained, "We assisted with Project Lazarus. Upon the project's completion, Operator Lawson ordered this platform to remain here. We waited for Shepard-Commander. Shepard-Commander's decision: to terminate this platform, or to welcome us, as stipulated by Operator Lawson. Shepard-Commander has chosen cooperation over termination. We are…grateful."

"So you helped rebuild me?"

"Yes."

In awe, Shepard mentioned, "I'm surprised Cerberus let you join."

"Shepard-Commander disabled Nazara. The galaxy values Shepard-Commander. Shepard-Commander is human. Cerberus. Human organization. We contacted Cerberus. We entered into a negotiation with Cerberus, offering a gift. A gift in exchange for assisting with Project Lazarus. The gift is now classified."

"Then how'd you help out with the project, exactly?"

Legion said, "We codified Shepard-Commander's organic consciousness and memories into a virtual game environment. A game environment suitable for organics. Operator Lawson navigated Shepard-Commander's consciousness through our game. Operator Lawson restored Shepard-Commander's memories. Brain functions. Senses. All further organic systems, networked as one individual."

So _this_ was Miranda's brilliant colleague that had helped her out with everything.

Shepard wanted to know, "Does Miranda still have access to that game you made? Would it still work?"

This time, Legion shifted its head flaps more. Agitated, almost. If that was possible for a synthetic.

Then it responded with, "No data available."

"If you say so," allowed Shepard. "You do sound like you can help us out. A lot more than you already have. So I think we'll get along just fine." She offered her hand. "Welcome to the team, Legion."

Slowly, Legion looked down at Shepard's hand. Steady, it mimicked her, offering its own. Learning.

Sort of delayed, Legion shook her hand properly. "We anticipate the exchange of data."

Shepard smiled more. "Same here. I have to head out for now. We'll talk more later on."

"Acknowledged."

There was something about Legion's analytical, unemotional 'attitude' that kept Shepard in a good mood as we left the AI Core. We made our way to the elevator with her good mood permeating between us both. She caught me off-guard, though. I expected us to head up to her private cabin. Instead, she had us head down to the engineering deck.

To my room.

I figured maybe she wanted to see it for herself, if she hadn't already.

When we got inside, I sat down on my bed. Shepard stayed near me, leaning against the desk close by. I expected her to look around. At least, a lot more than she did just now. She only glanced at a few things here and there, before starting off:

"Right, so that talk," said Shepard. "We can have it now. I just needed some time to cool off earlier." I smiled, not minding at all. "First, I want you to tell me the truth. About everything that happened after I died. I saw the rest from before—through Liara's bond with me. We can skip all of that. Fill me in."

As I'd expected—and hoped for—I told her the rest of the story.

Starting with everyone reaching that snowy planet in our escape pods…through to all the ways Miranda had taken care of me over the past two years. I told Shepard everything.

The whole time, she just listened. No questions. No comments. She only wanted to hear my side.

Shepard didn't visibly react to anything.

Just listening. That was it.

I could tell she believed me, though. Processing all the craziness. Making up her mind about it.

And then, once I finished my story, Shepard stayed quiet.

Still processing. Still deciding what to think, how to react.

After a short while, Shepard stated, "You thought you had to lie, then. To make me move on from Liara."

Glad that she understood, I confirmed, "Yeah. That's what Miranda and the Illusive Man said to do."

Perfectly calm, Shepard's eyes managed to pierce me as she asked, "And you actually planned on lying to me about all of this? The whole thing. Not only to me, but the team, too. You've _been_ lying to them about this for the past two years. Haven't you?"

"Well…yes."

Perfectly still. Perfectly poised. "Ashley. We had this talk already. What did I tell you about lying to me?"

Going back to that day before Ilos, I remembered: "You said…that I shouldn't lie to you. That as long as I told you the truth, you'd take my side…"

"That's right, babe. So tell me. During this whole time while I was dead, did that stipulation of mine ever cross your mind? Did you think about it? Did you consider my needs? Even once?"

I…

"Or were you that focused on making sure I let go of Liara? To get her _out of your way._ Not caring how I'd react after hearing that kind of news…about her supposedly killing herself. I may have some leftover hate with Liara these days. But the fact of the matter is, I still love her. I'm _always_ going to love her. And in your infinite wisdom, you figured I'd get over it and move on. With you. Like nothing ever happened. Like my feelings for Liara wouldn't matter. Like I would be too stupid to figure out the truth on my own."

…

Condescending, Shepard laughed a little. "Just as I thought. What a shame."

But I had to—

"Let me guess. You had to protect yourself. To keep me with you. So you prepared yourself to lie to me. To the team. To everyone. Indefinitely. _Forever._ Whatever it took to make me stay. Whatever it took to make sure the team didn't _turn on you_ again, like they did after I got rid of Pressly's ass. Is that it?"

"But Miranda told me—"

"I don't want to hear it."

Groaning in frustration, I told her, "Shepard, we can't do this! We're supposed to work things out! Don't you get it? This is what we have to do! You need to listen to me! You don't have a choice. You _have to_ take my side now! I never actually lied to you, okay? I stopped myself! I saw that you were in pain and I couldn't hurt you… I couldn't do it. I love you way too much… Doesn't that count for anything!?"

"Ashley, this isn't a game," she warned. "Even if it was, the game is yours to lose. Not mine. And you know it. We had this discussion a long time ago. I know you remember. So _you need_ to fall in line."

I stood up in a rage. "This isn't fair! I didn't fucking lie to you! Why are you acting like I did—?"

Taller than me, Shepard stood up, asserting: "I'm telling you now, Ashley. Don't make this _mistake_ with me! You can either fight at my side or get crushed under my heel! But you will _not_ stand in my way."

"No one's standing in your damn way!" I snapped. _"You're_ the one acting like a freaking jackass! You're arguing with me because, what? I was ready to do what I had to do? This is about our connection. It's about the war. It's about what we have—how much we love each other! Don't threaten me over that. And don't you _dare_ break your promises to me! Not with so much at stake. Not when I'm standing here, _right now,_ prepared to spend the rest of my life with you! So _you_ have to fall in line and do what I want."

Low and menacing: "You must not know who you're talking to."

I was about to fire back, thinking she was just talking shit…until I remembered:

That _insensitive_ person Shepard was on Earth's moon, with the rogue VI. The woman I'd met on Eden Prime. Back in the early days. Who she really was without Liara's calming influence. Her _real_ personality.

And this wasn't a so-called power outage, either… Not like last time.

Because I saw the utmost clarity in Shepard's eyes. Like she had woken up. Woken up from years of not knowing who she actually was. Woken up from either hiding her true self, or bending her identity around whoever she was involved with at the time. She'd only ever had this clarity whenever she stood up for her values. For her principles. Whenever she felt like she needed to protect someone she cared about. Whenever her values, her principles were on the line, and she had to make a serious choice.

Even still, I didn't get why this was so _serious_ for her at all. To this extent. What was the big deal?

"Ashley, I told you what I needed. _Be fair with me. Don't lie to me. Don't hold back with me. Be real with me._ You're not being fair at all, whining with these pathetic demands. You were prepared to lie to me. So if this is you 'not holding back', then I don't want or need this garbage. I see you for who you are now. The _real_ you. Just like Liara did. No wonder she tried to kill you on Virmire."

I sputtered back, "Shepard, you don't mean that! _I told you_ I have baggage! _You said_ you'd help me!"

"I don't want it," she decided. "Not anymore."

"What!? Why not?"

"Your _baggage_ comes from a place of entitlement! Ego. Wrath. Sins. _And_ you're taking me for granted! You think that I'm just supposed to roll over and do whatever you want! I'd have no problem working things out with you, forgiving the lies and the rest—if you had better intentions, like you did before…"

"What fucking entitlement?! And who says I have bad intentions? What the hell are you talking about!?"

Shepard chastised me, "It's obvious. You're corrupted now. You let the power of that _throne_ get to your head! You got off to Miranda purposely kissing your ass for two whole years, thinking she wasn't a threat. Like I would _never_ go for her because you and I are oh-so in love together. You got away with murdering Liara in cold blood, so now you think you're invincible! It's sickening. Disgusting. _Revolting!_ This is unacceptable and I won't tolerate it. Not from you, and not from anyone!"

Pacing around the room, I wrung out my hands, needing to get this energy out—"This is bullshit! I'm not corrupted! I'm pissed off, just like you are! Why are _you_ acting like this? Why won't you calm down and let us talk this out!? We have to make up. We have to stay together. You have to do as I say! I'm in charge: that's what you agreed to! So get over yourself and listen to me already!"

"No, _you_ listen to me!" she challenged, getting in my face. "You don't understand the severity of what's going on here. You fucked up. You hurt me like hell, and you don't get what could've happened. You disregarded my needs for your own damned wants!" Fury building in her eyes, Shepard made me flinch; _harder_ when she raised her voice: "Don't you get it!? This is a disaster! _A catastrophe!_ Do you hear me, Ashley?! This is a motherfucking _catastrophe,_ and you're too selfish to see that! You don't see it!"

Not seeing it, not getting it—

I tried to pacify her, "Okay—then make me understand! Make me see it! _Make me get it!"_

Shepard went cold.

Standing up straight again, she removed herself from my immediate space.

She just stayed there in front of me. Staring down at the way I trembled before her. Emotionless.

Then she said to me, "This is why I never let myself be completely vulnerable with you. It's why I would hide whenever I was emotional. Why I couldn't open up to you. The emotional gap between us…it's massive. I saw it all over again when we were at the party. In that room. After you stopped yourself from lying: you just stood there. Standing over me. Staring at me. Not even kneeling down to hold me when you saw that I'd been crying. You just… _stared at me_ with that blank look on your face. Wondering if you'd been found out. If Miranda had sold you out. In that moment, you only cared about yourself."

But… But I didn't know what else to do. I hadn't expected any of that to happen.

Shepard didn't want to hear it. She didn't want my excuses. She didn't…want _me_ anymore.

"Why, Ashley? Why did you let all of this happen? Why did you let this come between us?"

Stopping myself from crying, I justified: "I didn't have a choice! _I'm sorry!"_

"I've heard it all before. There's always a choice. There's always another way. Especially since you claim to love me so much. _Sorry_ isn't enough. Because you still don't get it."

I didn't know what else to do. I didn't know what else to say… I wanted, _needed_ her to see my side. So I said: "Look, if you think I don't get it…if that's _really_ what you think, then I'll go. I'll leave. I don't want to hurt you anymore… W-We'll break up. I don't have to stick around. Will that help?"

Hollow: "Lies. You don't mean that. You're only saying it to _fix things._ To save your own ass _._ That won't _fix_ the problem."

Raging again, I defied her—"Then what's the fucking problem, Shepard?! I don't get it. We were fine for the whole day. We were perfectly happy! Then we have this one misunderstanding, and you're going off on me like this? If this is such a _catastrophe,_ you owe me an explanation. What the hell is going on!?"

Deliberate.

So _very_ deliberate in her tone:

"The problem is…you _don't_ get it. You don't understand…how much it kills me—that you don't understand. That you don't understand _me._ You're so blind… It isn't fair. It's not fair, because I understand you completely."

"No, you don't understand me," I fought back. "Because if you did, you wouldn't be doing this!"

Shepard disregarded what I said, making her point: "You couldn't know me. You can't. It's impossible. You fell in love with an idea of me, just like I knew you did." _What…?_ "This is why I never approached you before. This is why I stayed the hell away from you. You only love Commander Shepard. You only see her, that persona of mine. You don't see me for who I am. You're not listening to me at all, either."

How the fuck could she decide that on her own?!

She was so wrong! _Dead wrong!_ I didn't spend the past two years suffering over a fucking idea of her!

"Ashley, let me explain," she _finally_ said. "I am broken. I am weak. I am sensitive. I'm only strong because I have to be. That isn't who I am. Deep down, I am that lone wolf you used to mention. Scared. Staying alone out of fear. Fear of getting hurt again. But once I feel secure enough with someone, I will protect them to the death. At some point, you seemed to understand that. Only for a fleeting moment, I suppose. That brief understanding was enough to make me fall in love with you, needing to believe that you _saw me._ That you knew me. Now…I guess it was just a fitting analogy for how hard you used to try with me. It wasn't real. An illusion."

I had no idea what she was talking about. What analogy?

Shepard knew that I didn't know. That I still didn't see it. She saw it in my eyes—the questions there.

She went on, "You're not interested in _trying_ with me anymore. Proving yourself to me. Working hard at making sure we stay together. You think you're so important now that everything has to magically work itself out. The problem is, that's not the Ash I remember. That isn't the woman I fell in love with. The woman who used to understand me." But things were different. We weren't in that same place anymore. Shepard saw that I disagreed, speaking more: "I don't care what our situation is. Because I made those promises to you out on that football field today, _believing_ you were still the same. Not knowing any better. Not until you broke my heart. Listening to your story about what happened while I was gone, it's clear that you're not the same. You don't have to prove yourself anymore, so you want to bask in your power. That's not how this works."

Hating that I actually had broken her heart, I needed to know, "Then what am I missing? What else am I not seeing? I'm sorry I don't understand, Shepard. I'm sorry that I don't _get you_ anymore. I'm sorry that I hurt you… But I actually want to understand. I have to see the rest of this picture."

"You aren't responsible with your power over me."

"What's there to be responsible about!? I sacrificed _everything_ to get you back! To keep you with me. To protect our relationship, our future… Isn't that enough?!"

Shepard sighed and said, "When Miranda told you that I would be different, you didn't take her seriously. When she said that I wouldn't have any defense mechanisms, she was right. Because having _you_ be responsible for my well-being in this intimate way: that's what burned my defenses away, changing my personality. Your aggression became my aggression. Your rage amplified mine. Your ruthlessness exacerbated my own. So when you hurt me earlier, I could have lashed out. I could've gone on a rampage. I could have killed everyone at that party, including you. I could have lost my mind. Do you know why?" Starting to get through to me, starting to _understand:_ I felt myself tearing up. "As broken as I am, I never knew who I was. I was my anger. I was my isolation. I was my work, my job. I didn't have a sense of self, a solid idea of who I was. So, with your _responsibility,_ you're supposed to take care of me. To be more sensitive to my needs, in a way you never had to do before. Liara was the one who took care of that while she was still alive. Now that she's gone, it's your turn to step up. You didn't see that. You should've made this your priority, but you didn't. You just didn't."

_Liara…_

I finally saw.

I finally understood.

I finally got why she hadn't been able to stand me. Why she'd tried to kill me on Virmire. Why she'd insisted that it was inevitable I'd hurt Shepard like this.

Heated pressure overtook my face. Crying. Sobbing. Letting this out after I had spent all this time pushing myself past it. Running away.

After _everything_ Shepard had done for me, I couldn't do this one thing. I couldn't focus on her needs, what she needed to actually fucking survive. I'd heard Miranda's warnings, but they'd mostly gone in one ear and out the other. Because all I was focused on was myself. Keeping Shepard with me. So I hadn't taken Miranda seriously…and she knew that. This was why she'd wanted to keep Liara around. And she was right. If I wanted to stay with Shepard on that same beautiful and transcendent path we were on before, then Liara needed to be here. The three of us would've needed to find that compromise. We would've had to get along.

I finally saw that I wasn't capable of being that same positive, calming force for Shepard that Liara had been. I couldn't do it. I felt myself about to break from how badly I couldn't do it. Because after everything I'd suffered and put myself through, pushing and rushing forward, never facing my own emotions…I wasn't the same anymore. And even if I was, I wasn't Liara. I was way too selfish. Too focused on protecting myself. Coming so close to screaming from how hard I cried like this, I didn't trust myself. I didn't trust myself with Shepard's heart. Not after the way I'd hurt her without realizing, without seeing the consequences…

So damned reckless.

Shepard held me anyway.

She held me together in this temporary way. We both knew it was only temporary. Only fleeting.

I couldn't go on like this. I couldn't live without her. After devoting my entire fucking life to her, I didn't know how to be myself anymore. That was what she'd tried to do for me, too, and I screwed up! I came so close to destroying her, destroying everything…and I didn't even see it. I was so messed up. So broken, so gone. Not even having Shepard's arms around me was enough to change this. To change reality. To change what I couldn't change.

God, why did I love this woman _so much_ if I wasn't enough for her?!

_I wanted to die._

I wanted to die, to end it all.

But I was too scared. Too scared to hurt myself, to suffer through that pain. I couldn't do it alone. I couldn't do it on my own.

Wounded as she held me tighter, Shepard told me: "Ashley, I will always love you. For the way you believe in me. For showing me that I do matter, all from the way you refuse to give up on me. For how loyal you are, how dedicated you are, and how hard you fought to have me to yourself…even if this is where we are now. But I can't deal with these lies anymore. I have to tell the team what you did. When they find out the truth—and that you lied to them for two years straight—they won't be happy with you. If they haven't figured it out already, that is. They'll hate you for it. And you know who's going to hate you the most?"

_Tali…_

Fuck, I couldn't face her. I couldn't face any of them. They probably knew, anyway. Or at least Joker and Dr. Chakwas knew. They suspected me. They had to. Or they already knew somehow. That was why they acted the way they did earlier. Because they _already_ hated me for what I'd done. For killing Liara. For lying about it. For acting like I'd gotten away with it, and we could all go on like nothing had ever happened.

I couldn't face them like this. I couldn't handle it. I was too scared. _I was a coward._ I couldn't do this.

Shepard knew.

When she pulled away from me, I started…trembling.

Quaking more: my repressed emotions were about to catch up to me. Shepard saw it. She knew that I couldn't keep running away. She saw how close I was to breaking. Possibly acting out. Taking this out on the team. Too dangerous. Too much of a threat to everyone else. She couldn't trust me. I couldn't trust myself, my own impulses anymore. She had to protect everyone from me.

Shepard said, "EDI, lock the door to this room. And the bathroom door. Shutter the windows."

EDI responded, "Yes, Commander."

I trusted Shepard's judgment.

I couldn't fight her. I could never lay a hand on her.

But we were on borrowed time now. I was so close. So close to splintering, _snapping_ again.

Sniffling thickly, trying to sound coherent, I needed to tell her, "Skipper, _I love you._ I want to marry you. I want to be the mother of your children…and Liara threatened that. She made those threats not long after she'd tried to kill me. I only got through it because I had you. Then I lost you. I let it all drive me to the brink. I fucked up when I pulled that trigger on her. I screwed up when I killed her, _knowing_ that you needed her this badly. All in this way that I could never, _ever_ hope to compensate for. Because I get it now. I can't be what you need… I'm sorry for what I did. I'm sorry for taking Liara away from you. I'm sorry I spent the past two years preparing to lie to you about it, instead of being honest. I'm sorry I was so selfish. I'm sorry for letting that power get to my head instead of protecting you, putting you first like you always do for me. I thought I was loyal to you, but I broke your heart. It's killing me so bad. It's killing me more that I never trusted you enough to just…tell you the truth before. Instead, I let it all build up, changing me like this. I'm not the same. I'm not the same person you fell in love with. I'm sorry I'm not good enough for you anymore… _I'm so sorry."_

Shepard softened her tone on this borrowed time, borrowing more for me. "Ash, it's okay," she forgave, making me cry harder. "I understand why you reacted the way you did. And I meant what I said: that I will always love you. You've made me a better person, and a better leader. No one will ever take your place in my heart. _No one."_ Seven whole years I'd spent, needing to hear this from her. Needing it so much. And now… "Whatever happens at this point, it'll be your choice. Your decision. You're in a lot of pain. I can see it. We can get you back home to San Diego. Get you to the Alliance base like we did with Kaidan; get you to the hospital there, if you think it'll help. We can all live in the truth once you're better. But if you don't trust yourself to walk out this door and face the team, then I'll do what you need me to do. You can count on me."

"I don't trust myself," I admitted, shuddering. "I want to be with you, Shepard. I want to. I don't trust myself to not hurt you again, even if I could somehow get better. I want to be strong enough to get through this. To be a better person. I know I'm not. _I know I'm not."_ Liara had seen all of this. She'd seen every last part of this in me. _This_ was what she'd tried to protect Shepard from. "The team will never forgive me for this. Not even you can make them trust me again. I'd constantly have to look over my shoulder with them around, like when Liara was here. I can't go back to doing that. Plus, they might even start to hate you for taking my side. For trying to protect me. That isn't worth it. And if I leave this room, I'm gonna hurt someone again. Do something I'm not supposed to, _again._ I don't want you to have to stop me. It could get ugly."

"Okay," she accepted, simple in her compassion for me. Her compassion that I didn't deserve. "It's okay."

So cold, my voice sounded too far away: "What about the Reapers…? What if I give up like this, and that's the end of everything?"

Soothing, gentle: "Don't worry about that, babe. It doesn't matter right now."

"Then I have to know," I forced myself to say, closer. "I need to know that if I'm gone, you won't lose yourself without me. You'll be stable. You'll stay sane. Won't you?"

"Ash, that isn't important," she insisted.

"Yes, it is! I'm way too dangerous. You need someone else to take care of you! Miranda is more reliable than I am. She's stable. She can be that for you. You can rely on her instead. Can't you?" When Shepard didn't react, I thought about this some more. Finding the answers. The only answers. "I have a feeling…she took care of all this already. Stabbing me in the back. Betraying me. Taking preventative measures, because she had to have seen this coming. Your instincts are what saved you before. They always save you in the end. So they have to be telling you something now." Once again, everything sunk in: "Miranda switched the person protecting you. _The one_ giving you that immunity. She changed it, from me…to her. During the Lazarus Project. She cheated. Hacked the game. That's why you and I aren't giving off that heat when we're together. That's why she's been acting so freaking weird lately, because she knows this is going to come out at some point. That's why you _didn't_ go on a rampage after I broke your heart. Miranda looked out for you, and you knew it in that moment, helping you hold back your aggression. She saved you from yourself. That's what she did. Isn't it?"

Shepard wouldn't say anything.

But she didn't need to.

Through her eyes, I saw the truth. That she had confirmation, having reached her somehow. By her instincts. By something more than that, through her consciousness.

Through her stare, I saw that Shepard cared about Miranda. No matter how indifferent or downright resistant she'd acted before, there was _something_ between the two of them. Something starting, something brimming…exactly like I'd hoped with my stupid plans for the three of us. But this beginning went beyond what I'd imagined before. All because Shepard understood the implications of what Miranda had done, protecting her from that worst case scenario. Protecting her from me. From how reckless I was with her heart. From how I pretty much didn't deserve to have her heart in the first place.

Shepard and Miranda had a connection. Even if they hadn't faced it yet.

It was enough.

And I couldn't even be mad about it.

No wrath.

No entitlement.

Not at a time like this. But if I left this room, it was bound to catch up to me. Miranda wasn't safe from this motherfucking _hellfire_ burning in me. In the long-term, she wasn't.

For now, I appreciated that Miranda had always put Shepard first. No matter how much pain it caused her. No matter how much she had to suffer, she would _always_ do whatever Shepard needed. Unlike me. So I had to do the same with this. I only regretted that I hadn't seen this coming. From how vulnerable I was when Miranda first came into my life, I'd trusted her too much. And she knew that. She took advantage of me, for the right reasons. For Shepard's sake. To protect humanity, the galaxy, like she always talked about before. And I should've hated Miranda for being so damn smart like this. For being so goddamn superior; for having every reason to look down on me. For loving Shepard better than I ever had, and for being a better person than I could ever dream of…but I couldn't. I just couldn't.

I had to face the truth, one way or another.

I did want Shepard to be happy. I wanted her to be okay. I wanted her to be stable. I wanted her to have everything she wanted _and_ needed in a woman. Because that woman wasn't me. I'd been too delusional to see that until now. I should've listened to Liara. I shouldn't have let the power of _that throne_ get to my head. But it was too late.

I still cared about Miranda, despite this so-called betrayal. I loved her as my guardian angel, for helping me get this far. I loved her as Shepard's angel, too. _I did._

Through my blinding tears, I wanted Shepard to have the best future she possibly could. Even without me in it. Even with _her._

Shepard knew the rest. As my only god, she knew everything. She had the power, the strength, and the willpower to do this for me.

I had nothing left.

Nothing.

After all my fighting, all my struggling, and the lifetime I'd spent pushing myself in the wrong ways, all to end up with _nothing_ …I gave up.

Fearless, I surrendered to my commander's judgment.

I looked her right in the eye.

I saluted her.

Holding this stance.

Holding on to how proud I was to serve under her, as her loyal soldier.

Holding on to how I was prepared to die for her, just as she had done for me.

Knowing that no one outside of my family would ever want to bring me back. Even after I had turned my back on them, on my mother and my sisters, all for this.

Shepard settled her hand over her sidearm. _Her_ Razer pistol hanging from her hip.

Waiting for my final permission.

For this last resort. For my way of paying for my sins. For the end of this catastrophe.

I conveyed my consent to her through my eyes. Because her survival, her happiness, and her sanity were more important than anything. I was a threat to that, and to the team. I was expendable.

Shepard raised her pistol to my face.

Right between my eyes.

Right as everything cascaded from me, flooding in a white-hot agony.

Somehow, I stood strong for her. Standing strong, holding my salute like this. Staring down the barrel of my commander's gun, I finally faced myself. Staring down my lying cowardice, by the single symbol of my leader's judgment. Taking responsibility for everything I'd done. My respect for my captain overtook my absolute need to break down, to snap, and to claw my way out of this room and burn Miranda alive for what she did to me. But this look in Shepard's eyes, so stern in her benevolence: she helped me hold on through our last moments together. Determined to give me whatever I needed—right to the end.

I needed her to take this pain away from me.

I needed her to protect me from myself. To protect herself from me. To protect the team from me. To protect me from the team's inevitable hatred that I couldn't live with. To protect Miranda from this _hellscape_ burning in me, about to fucking explode.

And to take care of me…one last time.

With her love for me, knowing that she had my love, my devotion, and my undying loyalty— _always and forever_ —Shepard pulled the trigger.

_Justified._

Loudness as firing pain, splintering flesh and matter and existence, red blood shot out from my skull as _Death—_


	27. Catastrophe's End

_"Borgia Occupation" from Assassin's Creed Brotherhood_

**XXVII.** Catastrophe's End

_(Miranda Lawson)_

Stealth.

Intelligence.

Subterfuge.

Assassinating the mind before the body.

Protecting humanity's best interests…and Shepard's well-being. One and the same. _One and the same._

Making these hard choices in a hard galaxy. As a realist.

Applying the lessons I'd learned by studying Shepard's methods: her instincts, her mind. Her needs.

Doing all I could to protect her from this destructive woman that she loved…as was _necessary._

As I continued to justify, over and over.

Or at least…that was what I'd told myself over these past two years. To help me survive. To help get me through this. To push me to this inevitable outcome, still so uncertain. So unclear. So unknown. I didn't know what would happen. I didn't know what to expect. I waited. I waited for answers. For the end.

Waiting here in my office, sitting at my desk, I remained dutiful in my distractedness. Gripping my gloved hands together, trembling, so tightly, as if praying. Shaking. Breaths uneven. Trying to work; not bothering anymore because it was pointless. Considering a nap; not bothering anymore because I had _insomnia,_ as my one clue. Sick to my stomach with no appetite; not caring because I had little need to eat these days, as my next clue. Clues that I'd succeeded. Clues that I'd possibly averted the worst.

I'd tried listening to music. Classical music. It usually soothed me. I'd turned it off. It wasn't helping.

I'd tried drinking wine instead. Red wine. Something sweeter than usual, to relax. Even tea. Warm herbal tea. It hadn't worked.

All I could do was keep thinking, breathing, praying, recalling, analyzing…

_Waiting._

Thinking like this, breathing like this, praying like this: I recalled the gravity of my decisions. That I had succeeded. That I had actually made the switch. That I had changed Shepard's protector from Ashley to myself during the Lazarus Project. Because I had to. Because I'd had no choice if I wanted her to live.

_Yes, I cheated._

_Yes, I hacked the game._

I had stolen Ashley's power away from her, knowing that she would only be irresponsible with it.

But, again, it was necessary. If I hadn't done this, then the consequences could have been severe.

Cheated, hacked, and stolen…after letting myself grow attached to Ashley over these past two years.

Stupidly attached, to control her. To keep her in-check. To preserve her for this inevitability before us.

I'd always known that this would happen. That Ashley would run afoul of Shepard's needs in the worst possible way, far beyond a mere disagreement that they could simply work through over time. In this case, with our current situation, she would lie, or come close to lying about _everything._ She would shatter Shepard's perceptions of her. That spell would break. That belief in Ashley as her infallible goddess would die…and Shepard would begin to question their connection, their relationship. Their values. Whether Ashley truly was the love of her life or not.

Questioning, and arriving at the truth: that Ashley simply didn't understand her, or her needs. Shepard was very sensitive, after all… Like a baby. Or a wolf pup, so precious and vulnerable, deep down. She needed a more stabilizing influence in her life, to keep the worst from happening. On an interpersonal level, Liara had done that for her. Ashley was too careless with Shepard's heart. She only saw Shepard as a vehicle to have her own selfish wants met. The problem grew worse once the Illusive Man and I were forced to tell Ashley about her true worth, her true power as _the one_ sitting on that throne. The problem grew even worse, even more terrible as time went on: as Ashley became more and more convinced that I was not a threat to her relationship. _Elevating herself._ Ashley had twisted my kindness toward her as a weakness, truly believing that she held some type of power over me, in addition to her throne. The power of it all had gotten to her head. The power had corrupted her, warped her. The power had revealed all that Liara had despised in her before.

No attachments, no friendship, and no emotional relationship between us could have changed my mind.

As I'd discussed with Liara not long before her death, we both knew that Ashley was too dangerous. Too unpredictable. Too reckless. Having Ashley be in charge of Shepard's protections _and_ sanity was an absolute disaster waiting to happen. Separate from those immunities to indoctrination—Liara's influence over Shepard's personality was one of calm virtuousness, balancing out her more renegade predispositions with proper stability; Ashley's influence was sheer aggression, recklessness, and violence, adding too much weight to Shepard's already-existing anger issues and traumas. And so, had Ashley hurt Shepard _too much_ during that after party in Japan, the results could have been catastrophic.

Shepard could have gone on a rampage.

Shepard could have acted out in any number of ways, reflecting Ashley's aggression and recklessness.

Shepard could have lost her mind. Lost herself to her old demons, exacerbated by Ashley's influence on her personality. She could have lost everything…if I hadn't taken this preventative action.

However, I honestly hadn't known how soon the changes would take effect.

And even then, I'd had no idea how to prepare for this. Any of this.

Hence my skittishness. Switching back and forth, constantly off-balance. Not knowing how to behave.

Exhausting, uneven— _I was unprepared._ Afraid. Terrified that Shepard would ask too many questions, forcing me to tell her the truth at an inopportune time. Frightened by Ashley's increasing paranoia, wondering if she would somehow pick up on what I'd done. Anxious that Joker and Dr. Chakwas would understandably not be able to contain their truest opinions of Ashley…after I had told them everything. Everything from the past two years. The lies, the betrayals: all of it. Their behavior was out of my control at this point. I had to trust them—just as they had learned to trust me after telling them the truth first.

On top of the pervasive _feelings_ that accosted me from being around Shepard like this…it was too much.

But the answers before me were clear:

Shepard had been able to use her tactical cloak with me straightaway. I had been surprised because, by my estimates, she would have at least needed to get to know me some more. Or perhaps our connection between superior and subordinate would have needed to grow organically, over time. But that wasn't the case. Shepard had already imprinted onto me, just as I had done with her over these past twenty years that I'd known her, facilitating that switch. Though I supposed I'd underestimated Shepard's reaction to seeing me when she woke up…as the first person she saw upon her rebirth. Smiling down at her with my love eternal and true. Unable to help myself, seeing that she was all right.

Watching as Shepard had dealt with the crew on my behalf, standing up for me…that made me start believing. Believing that perhaps she did care about me, despite her more obvious denials. Already, Shepard wanted to protect me. She had gone against her denials, allowing her principles to carry her through. She could never know how much her actions that day had locked me to her, even more… Even thinking about it now nearly set me adrift on a pleasant high, helping to soothe some of my anxieties.

And the final clue—aside from our shared insomnia and decreased appetites—was that _heat._

The pervasive heat between Shepard and Ashley was no more.

Once I saw for myself that it was gone, while the three of us had been in the CIC together… _I knew._

I definitely hadn't been able to fix that strange glitch myself. And yet it had resolved itself in this way.

More importantly, I hadn't expected Ashley to hurt Shepard this badly. Or this soon. I hadn't expected Ashley—in her purest delusions—to be so blind to her faults. Shepard was far too intelligent to allow Ashley to manipulate her. Far too dangerous to allow herself to fall prey to Ashley's domineering behavior. And so Ashley would give herself away and make that _mistake:_ of admitting that she had not once, _not once_ considered telling Shepard the truth instead, despite my stipulations that she needed to lie. Because I knew she hadn't. I knew that she had been more focused on her own self-preservation, fearing what Shepard would do to her if she chose to be honest instead.

Whatever happened after their talk, I knew to expect the worst.

Sadly, I'd thought that we would have more time first. More time to spend together.

Once again, I wasn't prepared for this. I wasn't. _At all._

Honestly, it would have been simpler to implant a control chip in Shepard instead, skipping this anxiety altogether. But then I would have no doubt felt guilty about it. And Shepard wouldn't have approved.

So now, all I could do was wait.

Waiting for Shepard to discover the rest of the truth from the past two years.

Waiting for her reaction.

Waiting for the end of this damned waiting.

Even after telling Joker and Dr. Chakwas _everything,_ and having them reassure me that I had made the correct choices, I still couldn't stop my hands from shaking. Remembering their reactions to the news during the negotiations for them to join Cerberus: how they had taken my side, as they'd had a _feeling_ before…I still couldn't get rid of this sinking sensation in my stomach. This was the right thing to do. This was the best thing to do, since even Shepard's team had suspected that Ashley was not at all innocent.

We had attempted to tell Garrus Vakarian the whole story—since he, too, had communicated with Joker about the same _feeling_ surrounding Ashley's involvement—but he had mostly gone off the grid. We had elected not to tell Tali'Zorah, because this would have been a disastrous shock to her system. Joker was confident that Tali'Zorah would believe me, as she had also been in on those same speculations about Ashley's guilt. But we had decided it was best not to tell her for the time being. At least until she had Shepard's support to help stabilize her, as I had witnessed a preview of back on Freedom's Progress.

Not long after joining Cerberus, Joker and Dr. Chakwas had gone to Tuchanka on their own to tell Urdnot Wrex the whole story in-person. He believed them right away, since, again, he had also spoken with Joker and Tali'Zorah before about that feeling they all shared. Despite how livid he was, Wrex had promised to at least continue emailing Ashley, in order to keep her from suspecting anything. They had all agreed to keep this under wraps for now, in general. Because they each knew that Shepard needed to see the truth on her own. They trusted in their leader to protect them from Ashley's wrath in the end.

As for Kaidan Alenko, the choice was clear. Joker, Dr. Chakwas, and Wrex knew better. We would not, could not tell Alenko anything. He was too close to Ashley. He had never been particularly close with Liara, either, and so he'd have no reason to sympathize with her. Alenko was also far too naïve and idealistic, needing to see the best in others, in Ashley. So he simply wouldn't have listened to reason.

And finally, the Illusive Man and I had told Councilor Anderson and Admiral Hackett the truth as well. As they had demanded during our negotiations with them, in sharing the news about the Lazarus Project. As outraged as Anderson and Hackett had been at the time, they had also agreed with my assessments. They promised to keep this quiet; to take appropriate action once Shepard decided how to contain the situation. We had then gone on to foster more cooperative Cerberus-Alliance relations as a result.

I had done all of this behind Ashley's back. All while giving her a smile to her face. A _genuine_ smile.

Turning Ashley's own team against her.

Making them despise her.

Simply by telling them the truth: the same story that Ashley had relayed to me at the 94 that night. Reinforcing Liara's worries about Ashley's behavior, her selfishness and abuses. Using those worries to justify Liara's actions on Virmire and elsewhere. Watching as the team, as Councilor Anderson and Admiral Hackett took Liara's side over Ashley's. Taking my side. Agreeing with me, with my views.

Betraying Ashley like this after two years of our confusing friendship. No longer her _guardian angel._

Feeling justified as I did this, even with my anxieties. Because I'd never stopped despising Ashley for what she was. I had seen the shape of her inferiority complex from early on. I'd always understood the ways she would seek to put down other women she perceived as stuck-up and arrogant—such as Liara, such as myself—to project her traumas onto us. Viewing us as the Alliance that had blacklisted her family for years. Viewing us as _the enemy_ to put down, for her own retribution. Whatever feelings of friendship we shared, I would keep telling myself that they were only a means to an end. Despite growing to adore Ashley's outgoing nature. Despite finding myself envious—in an admiring way—of how bold and full of life she was. Despite learning to care for Ashley as if she were a younger sister to me, seeing as how I was eight years older than her. Trying to find my actual sister Oriana through her; and separating my sister from Ashley whenever _feelings_ were involved.

Hating Ashley for the reasons behind her hubris, her perceived invincibility. Some of it was the matter of her importance, in protecting Shepard in that unique way during the Battle at the Citadel, and assuming her significance would carry through. Ashley took Shepard for granted in this way. I knew she did.

But the rest of it was about me, with her traumas. Her projections. And so I'd had to act accordingly:

How I'd purposely lowered myself before Ashley, as if she held all the power in the dynamic between us. How I'd lied and obfuscated, making it seem like I didn't hate her for having Shepard's heart when she didn't deserve it; and for killing Liara, whom I'd hoped to have in my life as a friend. How I'd discarded my pride, appearing to support Ashley's relationship, when I already knew: she expected Shepard and me to play along with her juvenile little fantasies for a threesome situation. Because of her significance, Ashley was delusional enough to believe that Shepard's heart would never stray from her. That Shepard would not find me that attractive. That I would merely stand off to the side while the two of them rode off into the sunset together, sobbing in my bitter loneliness. And that I somehow _deserved_ this. Because Ashley wished to put me in my place. To teach me a lesson. To make me think that I wasn't nearly as important as I thought I was, despite my crippling personal issues that I had never told her about in detail. All to use me like some _desperate_ _whore_ meant for her personal entertainment…knowing how much I couldn't stand the mere thought of any of this. To control my access to Shepard, knowing enough about my feelings. Knowing that my father had already traumatized me in his constant need to control me. Not knowing that Shepard would never allow such a thing, due to her principles. Her respect.

But Ashley had never considered Shepard's honor. She only cared about herself. What _she_ wanted.

Knowing her intentions for the past two years, I had resigned myself to wait. To be patient. All for this:

Possibly sending Ashley to her death, or breaking her mind. Or risking my own death instead, in case I had completely miscalculated. That was always a possibility. And if that was indeed the case, then I wouldn't run away. I would have gladly died by Shepard's hand—if that was what she decided was best.

Still praying, still trembling, still remembering to breathe: I waited for Shepard's decision.

Her final judgment.

Waiting for the end of this catastrophe.

EDI's voice sounded so close, and so far away. "Miranda."

I paused, wondering why she'd chosen to call me by my first name. She must have _witnessed_ something.

My voice rasped with my dread. "Yes."

So impersonal: "I heard gunfire from inside the starboard cargo room. It appears there was an altercation between the commander and Lieutenant Williams. Perhaps you should investigate."

Deep breath, deep breath.

"Thank you, EDI."

Leaving my office, I did my best to compose myself. To remain composed. To appear composed as I made my way to the elevator. Focusing on the sounds of my heels against the ground as I walked. Finding some solace in how quiet the ship was. Quiet, focused, diligent—anyone not at their stations were already in their rooms in the nearby crew's quarters, completely unaware of what EDI had reported to me. As they should have been. As they needed to be. I didn't want the crew panicking about this and spreading rumors. We needed…to contain the situation properly first.

Taking the elevator down one floor to the engineering deck, I inhaled and exhaled more. Deeply. Harsher. Longer. Such a brief ride, and yet these seconds seemed to extend well beyond any amount of time I could conceive, making me hate this motion, making me hate these memories of those disgusting members of the crew that Shepard had disposed of, and making me hate myself even more. Because I could hardly stand still. This drilling of my heart from within my chest had reverberated out to my breaths, so uneven. Imagining the worst. Imagining peace and tranquility for all. Imagining an end. Some kind of end. Some final end to this madness that had eaten away at me for two whole years.

But I had dealt with far worse than this for twenty years now. For far longer than that.

I should have been able to handle one last issue.

I certainly should have been…

At the engineering deck, the elevator door opened.

Right away, the smell of blood reached my nose. Blood, pungent and painful, all through the clinical cleanliness of the ship. And I could only inhale that pungent pain, to breathe. To keep breathing. To make myself leave the elevator. To turn in the direction of the starboard cargo room. To walk forward.

Walking toward Shepard standing there in the open doorway. Walking toward her, the clicks of my heels marking each step I took as individual accomplishments, worthy of this distinct reward:

Shepard watched me in her sunlight. In her might. In her sternness, sharpness, and severity. In her absolute power and magnetism. In the night of her N7 stealth suit, marking her hyper-awareness aboard the _Normandy_ where she should have felt at home. She watched my approach as I neared her, as I neared the room. Nearing the growing smell of blood, swelling and swelling. Welling my eyes with a faint coat of wet sheen, which Shepard took such stoic note of. All without either of us saying a word.

Just as stoic, just as wordless, Shepard communicated her wishes to me as I reached her presence.

Standing this close to her, beneath her pointed stare, I did as she wanted me to do:

I looked inside the room.

Turning my head, so slowly, I found the end result of all my waiting. My patience. My justifications.

Sprawled out on the floor next to her bed, Ashley lay there. Blown back from the impact of that gunshot, right through her eyes. Executed through her skull, with the spatter of blood plastered against the now-tainted steel of her bathroom door. Bleeding out from her head, both underneath her through her hair, and face-up across her gaping wound, pooling down across her skin. Bleeding out…red and dead. Gone.

Shaking all over again, I closed my eyes. Trying to contain myself. Barely managing to hold back. But with this building, this near-erupting of my emotions, I remembered all that I had done. These _feelings._ These attachments from the time I had spent with Ashley, leaning on her as she had leaned on me. Finding sanctuary in her as she had found sanctuary in me. Needing her to need me, because I had been so hopelessly pathetic in my pain and loneliness after Shepard's death. Latching onto Ashley in my hatred and lighter feelings of adoration and envy and admiration. Questioning if I'd had it right about her, and allowing my own manipulations of her to manipulate me into that questioning. Only to arrive at the ultimate conclusion that the path I had chosen was just. The choices I had made were correct. The priorities I had picked over her were better than she could ever hope to be, or to compensate for.

But Ashley's smile haunted me already.

Clenching my throat, tightening my chest, thinning my breaths.

About to tremble out of control, I remembered her damned _smile._ Her silly mischief. Her impish, girlish delight whenever I'd made her happy. The way she would laugh and tease me from time to time over how reserved I was, never once suspecting all that I'd hidden from her. And again, how she'd _needed me._ Trusting me as her angel. Relying on me completely. Finally making me feel like I actually _mattered._

I couldn't know when these two tears had welled out from my eyes in my heated regret.

Remembering my priorities, my choices, and my conclusions, I breathed in and out. Stronger. Centering.

Steadying myself, I opened my eyes to this wetted, heated sensation of my weaknesses.

I gazed up at Shepard with my renewed purpose. Accepting this new reality with her eyes on me. Even still, I felt myself trembling anyway, at least a little. From the way Shepard observed me. Analyzing me, so intense and focused. Finding my truths through my eyes. Seeing the way I held myself together, even as I dealt with this ridiculous urge to drop down on my knees right then and there. To do anything and everything she wanted. I absolutely would have spread my legs open for her, letting Shepard take me—immediately. _No questions asked._ Because that was simply the impact of her allure, with this power she exuded in such confidence and certainty. All as an extended metaphor for what I had enabled here.

Hoping for some kind of reward after all these years—I wanted Shepard to fulfill this craven need in me.

Lightening her sunlit eyes, Shepard gave me the ultimate validation I had forever desired from her:

She offered her gloved hand to me, official this time.

"Welcome to the team, Miranda."

Tentative in this moment, this next _finally,_ I placed my hand in hers. Truly feeling welcomed by her. Included. Involved. Protected by Shepard in her endless protectiveness, as our leader. As my only leader.

This time, I felt a shared current of lightning between us, purely electric and all-consuming. Stronger as she held my hand stronger than I held hers—so much stronger than from our first meeting. Strongest as she looked down at me, straight into my eyes. Again finding my truths. Seeing right through me, as if I were mere glass as transparency shaped and sculpted as a woman. Coming so close to melting as this heat slipped down my thighs, trapped and locked and constricted within the tightness of my uniform.

I made myself respond to her, "Thank you, Commander…"

Letting go of her hand didn't remove this current between us. It permeated, charging more in power.

Shepard said, "EDI. Remove Ashley's name from the crew manifest. She's no longer with us."

EDI replied, "Removing it now, Shepard."

Focused on me once more, Shepard asked, "Is this why you were so anxious around me?"

"Yes, Commander," I answered. "Aside from some…other issues." Irrelevant personal feelings. Want. _Need._ "I was terrified. Terrified that you would ask me too many questions. About Liara. About Ashley. About my own intentions, and how I'd manipulated her. Taken advantage of her. I knew that I would be compelled to tell you the truth. I'm…frankly incapable of lying to you. As I told you back on the shuttle."

"If that's the case, then why'd you confess to me about the emotional relationship you had with her?"

I grimaced, admitting: "My conscience got the better of me. I didn't want us to proceed with the mission without you knowing. At least that much. Even then, your anger was—eye-opening. Your reaction shook me to my core in a way I'd never felt before. I felt as if I stared death right in the eye through yours."

Shepard figured, "You had to expect _some kind_ of negative reaction from me. Didn't you?"

"I did. But I told you anyway. Took the risk anyway. It's the same with all of this. Exactly the same."

She accepted my answer.

And she wished to know, "Who else knows the truth?"

"Joker, Dr. Chakwas," I listed. "Urdnot Wrex. Councilor Anderson. Admiral Hackett. And of course, the Illusive Man. He lied to you about Ashley still being your protector. By omission, anyway. He was particular in only referencing the past, not the present. Mainly because I wasn't certain when the change would take effect. It looks like things officially switched over when you woke up on Lazarus Station. When you first saw me. The way you gazed up at me…you were so innocent. Gentle."

Shepard nodded, finding that this evidence lined up with what she'd sensed already.

"No one knows about your involvement," I informed her. "With Liara's murder. I had only suspected what happened in your consciousness, piecing your memories back together. I wasn't sure if it was only a dream, or if it had actually happened. If you would like to tell anyone on your own, then that will be your decision. I chose not to divulge those details, in order to preserve your innocence going forward."

"That's fine with me," she allowed. "Thanks. For doing all of this. We'll go over the rest a little later on."

"Of course, Commander. Whatever you need."

Shepard's regard of me lightened some more. She believed me completely. Somehow. Already.

But it certainly wasn't my place to complain.

Needing to deal with this loose end, Shepard stepped farther into the room.

She moved around Ashley, around that pooling blood. Over to the bed. Moving the pillows out of the way from the black comforter. She then stepped into the blood, the toughened ridges of her combat boots collecting that thickening red. Kneeling down, Shepard picked Ashley up with the weight of her actions. Remaining respectful to the last, she set Ashley's body atop the comforter. Wrapping up that bleeding, she insulated Ashley within the bedding, the blanket, and the sheets. Covering her away.

Needing to do this on her own, Shepard opened the door to the adjacent bathroom. Finding cleaning supplies. She washed off the blood that had spattered over that door first, still stepping in the pool of red beneath her as she did this. Transitioning to the floor, Shepard didn't have too much blood to clean, as the blue of Ashley's Alliance fatigues had soaked some of it up already. She somehow didn't betray much of her emotions as she did this. Shepard only sniffled and swallowed her tears, once, before moving past it all. And I couldn't sense those same flames that had burned in her heart. Dimming, dowsing, this act of cleaning helped her store away her love for Ashley, off in a safe space. Sheltered.

I wished I could have comforted her. But, again, it wasn't my place. All I could do was remain here, transmitting my wishes to her. She seemed to receive what I sent out, letting this hold her instead.

As Shepard cleaned her boots next, I noticed the Razer pistol hanging from her hip.

And had I picked up on this before, then I would've known what she knew.

Her attention to detail remained impeccable.

Disposing of everything that needed to be disposed, Shepard then returned to the bed. She picked up Ashley's bundled form, finding that nothing had bled out to the mattress beneath. Leaving the room, she gave me a look to walk with her, and so I did. On the way to the elevator, carrying Ashley's body wrapped in this bedding, Shepard gave her next orders:

"EDI, from now on, no one is allowed in the starboard cargo room. Seal it shut unless I say otherwise."

The door's lock glowed red behind us with EDI's compliance. "Yes, Shepard. The room is now sealed."

Shepard added, "Miranda and I are on our way to the cargo hold. Tell Joker and Dr. Chakwas to meet us there. They'll know why."

"Understood."

Taking this elevator down one more level, I felt myself changing. About to change. So close to changing from these events, even though I'd always known they would be here. Even though I had set all of this into motion. Still, I had to maintain my control. Shepard wouldn't have appreciated me breaking down at a time like this. As if I couldn't handle the full meaning of what I'd done.

And I couldn't, really…

Now simply wasn't the best time to face that uncomfortable truth.

Out to the wide open space of the cargo hold, with the shuttle in waiting nearby, I knew what had to be done. Needing to be more helpful this time, I led the way over to the storage area.

Locating a suitable pod.

Setting it out along the ground. Opening it.

Shepard set Ashley's covered form inside the pod. She then closed the pod, sealing it. Sealing her own emotions off, for the time being. Needing to deal with them later. Another time. But not at all forcing them away. I sensed no friction, no anger, and no strife from Shepard as she stared down at the white of this pod. Pure acceptance. Accepting what had come to pass. Not fighting reality, she chose not to run away from all that had happened. She chose not to run away from her feelings, either, sealed as they were for now.

Perhaps the shape of her final talk with Ashley had shaped this reception in her.

No malice, no spite. So unlike everyone else who knew the full story.

Emerging from the elevator, Dr. Chakwas and Joker found us here, approaching.

Dr. Chakwas took note of the pod, stating in directness, "I had a feeling it would come to this."

Joker frowned with his own spite. "I'm not surprised," he agreed. "I was kinda waiting for it, honestly."

Shepard turned to ask them, "I take it you've already come to terms with everything?"

"No kidding," soured Joker. "Miranda told us the truth when we joined up with Cerberus. So we're on good terms. Who knew a frickin' terrorist group was more trustworthy than my own lying friend?"

"Indeed," bristled Dr. Chakwas. "It was…difficult to believe at first. Although, we'd long-since suspected that Ashley's hands might not have been clean. We sensed as much for most of these two years you were gone. Seeing the evidence for ourselves—it was undeniable. I've accepted what happened. I'll never forgive her for this, even knowing that Liara wasn't entirely innocent, either. It's safe to say I've already gone through my many stages of grief. But I ultimately sided with Liara in the end. I had to."

"Yup, same here. Yelled about it. Cried about it. Got it out of my system. No disrespect to you, Ma'am, but Ash was dead to me a long time ago. Way before she ever set foot on the ship. I can move on now."

"I understand," replied Shepard. "Let's move this discussion to the med bay. I need to get caught up."

We all returned to the elevator. Leaving Ashley's pod here in the cargo hold, at least for now.

As we went, I couldn't help thinking: this was our first fatality from the suicide mission.

Distancing myself from the reality of her death would only help for so long.

But it helped for now, arriving to the med bay with Shepard, Joker, and Dr. Chakwas. Legion was already here waiting for us—named as such on the crew manifest now, as I'd managed to discover while trying to work earlier. Even though it didn't know the full details of all that had occurred, Legion was close enough to the situation, simply in having worked on the Lazarus Project with me.

While Dr. Chakwas sat at her desk, the rest of us stood around nearby. She and Joker led the discussion, catching Shepard and Legion up on their side of the story.

Apparently, Tali'Zorah's initial reaction to Liara's alleged suicide was one of complete disbelief. I hadn't known at the time that she had emailed Liara not long before Ashley had arrived to the hotel room. Tali'Zorah had insisted that Liara would not, under any circumstances whatsoever, decide to kill herself right after having read her heartfelt message. But the investigation had said otherwise, thanks to the planned meddling from our Cerberus agents. They'd managed to convince the non-agents over to our cause. And so it was an open-and-shut case.

But this single email to Liara from Tali'Zorah—one that I hadn't seen or anticipated—had created a chain reaction among the rest of Shepard's team. This one thing had also made me realize that I'd underestimated Tali'Zorah overall. I had mistakenly assumed that she was far too naïve to be trustworthy in the grand scheme of things. But as I'd taken another look at her, I began to reconsider my previous stance. After witnessing Tali'Zorah's timely foresight with her email, and her sharp intelligence in not allowing Ashley's gaslighting to affect her, I had grown to respect her a great deal. Thanks to her, the team were all going to suspect that something was amiss either way. Either way, they were going to create the separate email chains that they did, excluding Ashley and Kaidan Alenko, as they shared their suspicions and worries with one another over the years, leading us to our current reality.

So, _either way,_ the truth was going to come out eventually. I'd had no control over that.

But I could control the spread of the information. As I'd managed to do when Dr. Chakwas and Joker had demanded to know if Cerberus had been involved with the incident.

As per their demands, the Illusive Man and I had told them all they wished to know. I had detailed how Legion was the one who'd initially contacted Liara about the Lazarus Project, which had started all of this in the first place. I'd shared that I had visited Shepard's apartment upon Liara's request for that meeting: where I'd told Ashley about her necessary role in making sure our Cerberus agents retrieved Shepard's body from the Alliance base. All mere hours before she had compromised herself, making my job that much easier. I had showed Joker and Dr. Chakwas the original footage from the hotel: of Ashley entering Liara's room, of the sound of gunfire, and of Ashley panicking and leaving the room shortly afterward. I'd explained how we'd manipulated the footage for the hotel's security as well as the San Diego police; I'd then detailed how I'd helped fabricate Ashley's alibi by accompanying her to the 94, in order to keep her safe from any repercussions. The Illusive Man had stressed the importance of protecting Ashley at the time, since she had been the key to defeating the Reapers after Shepard's return. Otherwise, we would have had little reason to keep her around after she'd signed off on the transfer of Shepard's remains at the Alliance base. She was far too dangerous to be a reliable asset.

To help them make sense of everything, this was when I'd told them the truth about Ashley's rivalry with Liara. The exact story that she'd shared with me at the 94. Every detail I could remember.

Much to my surprise, they had believed me. Because, again, they had suspected as much.

My story reinforced their observations. Such as that scar Ashley had over her lip. They had noticed, wondered about it. Then it all made sense once I'd explained.

As another surprise, Joker and Dr. Chakwas came around to accepting my decisions. My choices. My priorities. They supported me in my move in switching Shepard's protector to me. They recognized that Ashley wasn't the right person for the job. Not with so much at stake. They no longer trusted her as Shepard's partner at all. I supposed I'd been taken aback by their trust in me at this point. All because I had given them the answers to their burning questions, of the worries that had haunted them for so long. All because I had been able to provide some sort of stability for them in promising that Shepard would return. And in assuring them that I hadn't chosen to make this switch for my own ambitions.

This was about Shepard's well-being. Her safety. Her personal security.

Without that, there was no mission. Without her, we were all dead.

We needed Shepard at her best. I was prepared to ensure that she would have her stability.

Although, I hadn't mentioned anything to them about…these feelings of mine. How I felt about Shepard. In coming around with their acceptance, Dr. Chakwas and Joker seemed to have noticed regardless. They recognized that not just _anyone_ would make the sacrifices that I had made for their leader.

I was comfortable enough with their silence, as respectful as it was. They chose not to judge me.

I still wasn't used to their respect. Their trust. How they maybe even liked me as a person.

I was so used to the exact opposite in dealing with other people, after all…

Joker addressed me, "Hey, Miranda! I meant to ask. Did you ever tell Legion anything? I mean, it's been around for a while. Or is this all new information?"

"Most of this is new information," I supplied, looking to Shepard. "Though I did ask it to lie to you. In case either you or Ashley asked about anything too close to this subject. I didn't want to tip you off at the wrong time."

Legion confirmed, "Shepard-Commander's inquiry surrounding our game generated the need for our deception. We apologize."

"Don't worry about it," accepted Shepard. "You did what you needed to do."

Dr. Chakwas sighed. "If only Ashley hadn't seen her own lies as strictly necessary. I did begin to worry on my own after Virmire. When she had that unusual gunshot through her arm. I couldn't imagine what type of pistol-wielding enemy had gotten so close to her for a point-blank wound. Close enough to disable her omni-tool, even. I worried far more when she had such a visceral reaction upon seeing Liara again. But I couldn't assume anything. I tried to dismiss it all as a mere coincidence, yet it continued to linger on my mind. I deeply regret not knowing better at the time."

"I should've seen this, too," agreed Joker. "Man, I seriously hate Ashley for lying to us for two fucking years. She gunned down Liara, knowing how much you care about her! Then she lied about the cover-up. She lied about Cerberus. She lied about everything! She sat on the line and listened to Garrus and Tali cry their eyes out, and she didn't say a word! And you know why? Because she knew for a fact that we were never gonna take her side on this. Turns out she was right!"

"Self-preservation to the end," noted Dr. Chakwas. "It's a shame she had to take it this far."

"It's a shame she tried to lie to my face, too! When we talked earlier, Ashley had the nerve to act like she didn't even know Miranda. Like they hadn't actually been talking this entire time. Just out of curiosity, I brought up the idea of her, Shepard, and Miranda having a threesome. Then she smirked and talked shop about it, like it was all part of her big plans or something. But you know what? I knew it was bullshit. The Ash I knew would never jump into bed with some stranger! She didn't even _try_ to pretend like she was worried about working for Cerberus, either! Best liar in the galaxy right there, folks."

"This all comes back around to Liara. Again, it was difficult to learn about what she had done. At least at first. But then everything made sense: if Liara genuinely saw that Ashley was capable of all this, then she _should have_ taken steps to prevent it. Even if her methods were quite extreme. I sympathize with her."

Joker felt the same. "Yeah—it was a hard pill to swallow," he shared. "If she was only trying to stop something like this from happening, then I get it. Liara wanted to protect you, Commander. She really did. No clue why she hesitated, though. Guess we'll never find out now."

Shepard expressed, "I wish she would've told me. That's all."

"Well…you know why she didn't say anything. Why Ash kept quiet, too."

"I know…" Resigning herself to accept all of this, Shepard decided: "Since Tali doesn't know the rest, I'll tell her myself when we go pick her up. She deserves to know the full story."

Joker encouraged, "Don't worry, she'll understand. Tali was the first one to get us all in on the speculation, anyway. She'll be upset…but she wants to know the truth. Especially coming from you."

"Agreed. Let's hope for the best. Whenever we find Garrus again, he needs to know, too."

"For sure. I'll tell Wrex that you took care of things. It'll be a huge weight off his shoulders. We told him the whole thing already. He's pissed. Plus, he was sick of having to keep emailing Ash after the fact, pretending like we were all best friends. Pretty sure he was getting _real_ _close_ to dealing with her before you could."

Shepard knew. "I don't blame him."

Dr. Chakwas pointed out, "I'm still not sure how Kaidan will react. Miranda was wise in stressing that he's too close to Ashley. And he was never particularly friendly with Liara. I recall they were only cordial as work colleagues. Perhaps it would be best for him to remain oblivious. At least for the time being."

"I'm thinking the same," said Shepard. "Kaidan will know the public story, then. But from here on out, everyone who joins the team will learn about what happened. I don't want you all to have to tip-toe around the issue. They'll know to keep their mouths shut with anyone else. It's that simple." I agreed with her choice; Joker, Dr. Chakwas, and Legion all expressed their agreement as well. "The rest of the galaxy doesn't need to know the truth, either. For the public story: they can believe that Ash was killed-in-action while still working with the Alliance. I'm choosing to separate her actions from her family's legacy. I don't want this to ruin the Williams name all over again. They don't deserve to suffer because of her."

"That's quite benevolent of you, Shepard," remarked Dr. Chakwas. "And I have to agree."

Joker nodded. "True, true. You just know the Alliance would look for any old reason to smear her family's name again. Even if Ashley _was_ a huge traitor. Her Mom and her sisters don't need all that."

Shepard also decided: "Last I checked, we're still in the Sol System not too far from Earth. We need to arrange for an Alliance ship to come by and pick up Ashley's pod from the cargo bay." She regarded me. "Since Anderson and Hackett know about this, I'm assuming they're ready to deal with the fallout."

"Yes, Commander," I confirmed. "They are. They'll handle things accordingly, including the PR spin. As promised to the Illusive Man during our own negotiations with them. So you don't need to worry."

Dr. Chakwas volunteered, "Please, allow me to oversee the process. Including the transfer."

Joker raised his hand. "I'll help, too. You've got enough on your hands, Shepard. We'll take care of it."

"All right," allowed Shepard. "I'll leave it to you both. Miranda and I still need to go over some other details on our own. We should get going."

"Hang on—before you head out," said Joker. "I just…wanted to say thanks, Commander. For handling all this like a pro. Can't be easy. I mean, I'll admit—we never confronted Ash on our own since we were…kinda scared about how she'd react. We weren't sure if you'd let her stick around. Or if you were just never gonna find out. Or if you did, heck, maybe you'd take her side. Probably would've caused a huge rift with the team if she stayed. So I guess you protected us from all that hate and drama."

"Absolutely," settled Dr. Chakwas. "It's awfully strange to feel relieved after losing one of the team like this. But I also worried for our safety while Ashley was with us. As brief as her time was. Though I also lament her loss because of your relationship. You seem to be holding yourself together well enough. Indeed, thank you for protecting us from that awful possibility."

Shepard told them, "You're part of my crew. From now on, if anything else comes up, you let me know. I don't want any repeats of this whole saga. Understood?"

Dr. Chakwas stood up—she and Joker gave Shepard their stoutest salutes, affirming their loyalties.

"Understood, Commander," they said in unison.

Professional to the last, Shepard returned their salutes with her own.

Legion's observations seemed more pointed in this moment. Finding such strong consensus.

Dr. Chakwas looked to me. "And thank you as well, Miranda. For bringing all of this to light. You didn't have to go out of your way to make your case to us, but you did. It's more than clear how dedicated you are to protecting the mission. After such an ordeal, I believe we'll all be just fine from here on out."

"You can say _that_ again," said Joker. "But seriously—thanks, Miranda. You're really something else!"

Rather thrown by their gratitude—so very unexpected—I only replied with, "Of course. Thank you."

Joker and Dr. Chakwas both gave me such…specific, peculiar smiles.

Shepard rescued me from the rest of this encounter, at last having us leave the med bay for my office.

* * *

Safe within the confines of this space, I sat behind my desk.

Shepard waited for me to sit first, before taking her own seat: the same leather chair where Ashley had been not that long ago. Having this reminder of Shepard's manners helped to keep me enough at ease.

Waiting on my own, I wanted her to lead this talk of ours.

Because I wasn't at all sure where to begin. What exactly she wished to know. What order to go in.

All I knew was that I needed to be honest. I couldn't lie to her. I had spent all these years lying and sneaking around. Spying on her, on her team. Keeping my eye on her. Studying her. Learning her.

I was honestly sick of the deception. I was tired of staying in the shadows, too afraid to face her light.

As Shepard sat before me, watching my thoughts pass through my mind, I again felt so transparent. Clear. See-through. As if she saw through my layers and layers of attempts at maintaining some type of decency in her presence. Or just in general. I had built up so many defenses. So many safeguards. So many ways of keeping others out of my head and my heart—even Ashley, to some extent. To have all of my efforts go to waste, faltering beneath the unintentional intensity of her stare…it was a lot to handle.

Non-judgmental, Shepard wished to know, "So how'd you do it, then? How did you know the best way to take advantage of her? How'd you manage to get her to trust you completely like that? And how did you know her biggest weaknesses?"

Seeped in regret, I replied, "Well, that depends. Do you want the short story? Or the long one?"

"Both. Give me the overall summary. Then the details. Paint that picture for me, Miranda. I'm listening."

Shepard did deserve to know all that I was capable of…

"Ashley…was a child. I did what anyone would do with a child. I gave her plenty of attention. Smiled at her. Spoiled her rotten. Protected her, fussed over her. And, above all, I made her feel special… Cared for. All things that I knew nothing about from personal experience. Still, it was all more than enough. She also had an inferiority complex. Giving her power over me, and over you, was enough to bring out who she truly was. I despised having to lower myself before her every day for two years straight. I knew she got off from that power trip. From _putting me in my place_ … Challenging her directly would have been foolish. She was far too stubborn. The most important question, then, became how to defeat her mind. How to break her down over time. How to trap her in a corner with no way out, with no place left to run. _You_ were the answer."

I started off by explaining to Shepard how and why I knew these things about Ashley in the first place. How I'd spied on the team's now-archived chat room during their mission against Saren and the geth. How I'd managed to find enough of Ashley's external communications, especially with her family. I was able to put together her longings, her personality, and the shape of her mind, all from watching her interactions with others. Piecing together the clues. Finding out what made her tick, essentially.

The most helpful evidence was finally meeting her in-person, at Shepard's apartment that fated evening.

The way Ashley had leered at me, judging me for my looks, my appearance…that had told me all that I needed to know about her. Compared to Liara, who had merely shown a surprised, but gentle sort of curiosity upon first seeing me, Ashley's reaction had been a tell-all of her worst instincts. How she judged other women she perceived as conceited or overly-confident in their sexuality. How she would swear she was not like _those women_ in her private communications, desperately trying to elevate herself above someone like me. And how this had played a subconscious role in her struggles with her sexuality, as she'd had no idea as to her inherent biases and fears. She'd never been aware of them.

Hence why Ashley had gravitated toward Shepard so much. Commander Shepard, rather, as a beautiful woman who was confident without being conceited; confident in her sexuality without _showing off;_ and whose slight masculine bent posed no threat to her, without dredging up those old biases or hatreds.

So when Ashley had first met me, eyeing me and no doubt assuming I was some type of whore, I had tried not to concern myself over it. But our half-discussion, half-argument about bringing Shepard back had done her no favors. I knew that I was the purest representation of her worst traumas and triggers.

Even her condescending proposition for sex had made me feel disgusted. Like Ashley had only viewed me as some object. As a walking, talking sex doll that only existed to satisfy her sadistic curiosities about fucking a woman like me. It had surely seemed like this was the only way Ashley would cooperate with our plans to transfer Shepard's remains into our possession. As revolted as I had been, I'd had no choice at the time but to indulge her wishes…even though I was terrified of her. Though I'd refused to show it.

If Liara hadn't been present in the room as a calming force for me, then I probably would have shown how apprehensive I was. Ashley's dark, antagonistic passes at me had conjured up such awful scenarios in my head. As lonely and dangerous as she was at the time, grieving in so much pain, I had honestly considered the worst. That she wouldn't respect me in bed. That she wouldn't play nice. That she wouldn't back off once I told her she wasn't allowed inside of me, because _no one_ had ever had that privilege. That she wouldn't accept that I needed to be the dominant one, as I was used to. That she would have likely forced me to be submissive to her instead, all just to humiliate me as she desired.

Ashley might have even raped me. I couldn't know. Not for certain. But I had certainly imagined it.

That fearful agony of mine had permanently ruined my opinion of her.

Actually admitting this out loud to someone, to _Shepard_ herself, acted as a kind of catharsis for me. Because I saw the way her eyes changed. She had of course listened patiently this entire time, willing to understand me. Willing to see my point of view. But Shepard now understood the implications behind my decision to take care of Ashley these past two years. That I had done this anyway, even as I had feared her. That I had treated Ashley with so much apparent kindness and care, as a way to also protect myself from her. Pacifying her had been the strongest repellant against her harshest attitudes.

Continuing on with my story, I then told Shepard about my first and final conversation with Liara in private, in-person. We had stood together not too far from the monorail station closest to the apartment. Expressing that we were both on the same page: of how dangerous it would've been for Ashley to realize the extent of her power. Of how she'd already had too much power over Shepard as it was. And of how it would've made the most sense for Liara to instead be Shepard's primary love interest, leaving Ashley to continue _believing_ regardless, as we both knew she would have. There would have been no risk that way. They could have maintained their balance with one another. Shepard would have remained stable and mentally sound, able to continue on with the mission without issues.

Of course, those plans for Shepard's healthier happiness and stability had all died with Liara later on that night. My own silly hopes for a closer friendship with Liara had also died then. Once Ashley had shot her.

I'd had no choice but to help Ashley that night. I'd had no choice but to deceive her, remembering what she needed in a leader: that damned gentle guidance and validation. Talking her through the deception, the stealth, and her disguises had been simple enough. But actually preparing to deal with her on this personal level for the next two years…that was what I couldn't prepare for.

So, for Ashley's alibi, I had tried to offload her onto some hapless stranger at the club. But she'd quickly shot that idea down. I'd again had no choice but to help her directly, this time by pretending to be her date. And even though I'd found myself apprehensive about this, hoping that Ashley wouldn't actually try to sleep with me, this had worked out in my favor. I'd felt safe enough in such a crowded location, convinced that Ashley wouldn't have tried anything stupid with me. Aside from that foolish boy James Vega interrupting our time together with his ridiculousness, I had needed this experience:

Seeing for myself that Ashley hadn't been the least bit remorseful over killing Liara.

Seeing that Ashley had seemed vindicated instead.

Having her trust me enough to tell me her full story then and there.

But even after learning that full story, I still continued to worry. Ashley had taken such drastic action, not appearing to care about how this would affect Shepard upon her return. As if she had been convinced that Shepard would simply get over it and move on with her. Those same stubborn delusions of hers had no doubt helped her lie to Garrus Vakarian so easily when he'd called her. Even while he had sobbed over the line—all because of her actions, on top of having lost Shepard already.

This was the moment when I knew I needed to continue pacifying her. Going into that type of stealth mode: lowering myself before Ashley, and doing whatever she wanted, in order to remain incognito. To protect myself from her possible wrath. Or something far worse.

I continued to fear the worst once Ashley invited me home with her that night. Driving her back to the apartment, and actually lying in Shepard's bed with her: stressed and anxious, fearful that Ashley would find some way to hurt me. Or that she would take advantage of me in my sleep. Or she wouldn't—but only if I played everything perfectly. Only if I said as little as possible about myself, how I felt on a personal level. Only if I made her believe that I wasn't a threat to her in any way whatsoever.

I lived in that state of constant fear over the holidays we'd spent together.

I only found my solace in planning out my preventative measures down to the exact details.

I had found what worked at the 94—in apologizing to Ashley after her call with her teammate. All to make it sound like I had sympathized with her, in telling Ashley that she had been Liara's victim, when really, I knew better. I had only told Ashley what she'd needed to hear in that moment. But she had believed me, and that was enough. Enough to sustain her to hand over Shepard's remains to us, all without a single shred of remorse, once again.

The smallest things continued to guide me: during the QEC call with Ashley and the Illusive Man, where he had explained all, I knew it was imperative to give her a sense of belonging. As if I had somehow taken her side in her rivalry with Liara—again—even though I well and truly hadn't. Referring to Liara as _the asari_ and _T'Soni_ to create distance from her, and to again make it seem like I had taken Ashley's side in the matter. Mentioning classified details about our Cerberus intelligence on the Alliance base going dark. All to help Ashley feel like part of the in-group with Cerberus, the Illusive Man, and myself, to give her that sense of belonging away from the Alliance. To prevent any type of remorse over her betrayals. It even helped Ashley to see that I was uncertain about the future—because I absolutely had been uncertain at the time. When the Illusive Man had ordered me to _"find another solution"_ to the problem in front of me, I'd had no idea how to proceed. I hadn't yet made up my mind. But that had turned into yet another issue plaguing me, on top of not knowing whether I was ever truly safe in Ashley's presence.

Later on, in our own private conversations, I had chosen to divulge more covert details about high-level Cerberus operations. Again, to help Ashley feel included in my world. I had also told Ashley sensitive information about how I was created from my father's DNA. How I hadn't been born as a real person. How I had ran away from my father, leaving with nothing, and joining Cerberus after the Illusive Man had recruited me. I had even told Ashley about my twin sister Oriana, knowing that it might have been a security risk. I had my sister in hiding on Illium, to keep her safe from our controlling father. Telling Ashley about this could have compromised that.

But it had all worked. Ashley had quickly found her sense of security with me. It had been imperative for me to maintain this while I'd taken care of her, cooked for her, and watched her play Shepard's video games at home.

When Ashley had given me that gift for Christmas—those rare physical copies of Shepard's fashion magazines—I had felt something of a shift. As if I'd actually started caring about her. I'd felt it even more on New Year's Eve, when I'd decided to kiss Ashley, not on her lips, if only because I had still been in too much pain after Shepard's death. I had found myself indulging in the far-off, what-if scenario: of what it would've been like to have met Ashley separate from these circumstances. How we could have had something together. Possibly, maybe.

Those vaguely positive feelings had grown more when I'd visited that plot of grass with Ashley, after her team had departed. Where Shepard would have been buried, if not for our Cerberus meddling for the Lazarus Project. Ashley had been so supportive with me that day, allowing us to grow closer. She had of course known how broken up I was about this, even with the clear prospects of Shepard coming back after the project's completion. She had chosen to show me such kindness and understanding, breaking more of the black and white views I'd held about her for so long.

Luckily, over the next two years, Ashley had never asked me about those views of mine. We had simply moved on with one another, continuing with this friendship of ours. As if our very first meeting together had never happened. Instead, Ashley's other curiosities had grown: she'd wished to know more about my feelings. How I felt about Shepard. I could tell that her curiosity had initially come from a genuine place. Not from any paranoia, viewing me as competition of sorts.

I knew that if I told Ashley these details, that it would all start something in her.

So I'd waited about a year or so. I had written the email well ahead of time. Writing, re-writing, deleting certain parts; deleting all of it, and starting over from scratch. I had done this in between Ashley's strenuous N7 training, and of course during the Lazarus Project, as my own personal adventure to come back to during my spare time. But there was always one part of the message that I'd kept coming back to: the matter of wishing Ashley the best in her relationship. I would write out the words, trying to believe that I believed them. But I never did.

Throughout this time, the Illusive Man had continued to pressure me about finding another solution. The solution to the problem surrounding Ashley's role with Shepard's stability. I had spent weeks and weeks analyzing likely scenarios, trying to come up with something. All because of the inevitability before me: of how convinced Liara had been that Ashley would hurt Shepard beyond repair. And whenever this happened, it would have surely ended the mission. Shepard wouldn't have survived such a catastrophe. I saw that catastrophe barreling toward us, all from the way Ashley had refused to consider telling Shepard the truth about what had happened. Even though I had told her not to. Even though I had claimed that it was necessary. Even though I had always known that Shepard was far too clever to believe such lies. She would have questioned Liara's suicide, one hundred percent. She would have questioned everything, destroying those plans for her to remain oblivious. And Ashley would have been caught in her crosshairs regardless, as the sole target of her ire, in her effortless needs to lie.

I had known it was all a matter of time before Ashley ruined Shepard. Permanently.

And this was all before I'd had an inkling as to Shepard's role in Liara's death.

Around this time, as well, Joker and Dr. Chakwas were on the shortlist to join Cerberus. We needed them with us for this mission, in order to help Shepard feel more comfortable. We also needed Dr. Chakwas' expertise for the Lazarus Project, as her intuition regarding Shepard's immunity would have been invaluable to us going forward. But they had both been far too adamant about joining at first. Outright refusing unless we were able to negotiate with them.

I remembered how I'd felt with those frustrations, those pressure points brimming all at once:

Ashley constantly asking me to tell her how I felt about Shepard. My unsent email with her answers.

The Illusive Man pressuring me to find another solution.

Joker and Dr. Chakwas essentially playing phone tag with me, _wanting_ to join Cerberus for their own personal freedoms and ambitions, but then backtracking and insisting that I needed to persuade them.

The high-pressure environment surrounding the Lazarus Project, and my need to execute everything to perfection, down to the exact detail, as always.

Liara existing in my dreams quite often. Encouraging me to do what I thought was best, no matter what. All as that reminder about how I'd needed her to stick around. How she had been the key to Shepard's well-being. How I actually missed her as that potential friend of mine. My only possible friend—and the one I _should have been_ in daily communication with about the project, about Shepard's progress. Next to Tali'Zorah, possibly, Liara was the only other person I would have trusted with Shepard's heart. Without question.

And my constant fears about Ashley ruining everything. Breaking Shepard's heart. Breaking Shepard entirely. Breaking everything, destroying everything, and burning everything to the ground in her reckless abandon…

Here, I finally paused. Not knowing how to proceed. Not knowing how to word myself.

Shepard gave me a moment first.

A long moment, with this silence stretching between us. Endlessly.

I realized then just how transparent I had been with her thus far. How I had told Shepard the whole truth. But now that I was at this juncture, surrounding the matter of that email with my heart's confessions, and my decision to switch her protector, I couldn't continue. I didn't know what to say.

All the while, Shepard regarded me with such patience. As if she believed every word I'd given her. As if she didn't mind my struggle in this moment, still stretching on between us.

In her compassion, Shepard prompted me, "I take it you were at your wit's end at this point."

The obvious answer: "Yes…"

"What helped you?" she wondered. "You must've had some type of epiphany."

"I did," I confirmed. "While I was inside your consciousness through Legion's game, piecing your memories together, I saw the answer around me. I had spent all that time within your mind. Exposed to Prothean technology by way of your memories, of the Ciphers within your consciousness. Your powers remained open, and still are, so there was no need for anyone to reopen them once I made the switch. I've never interacted with a beacon, and I'm not a Prothean expert like Liara was. But it doesn't matter. As you pointed out before, you and I established a connection throughout the Lazarus Project, while you felt me putting you back together. I had known this before, but I wasn't exactly sure when the connection would manifest itself. Either way, I had already satisfied the requirements to be your protector instead."

Shepard understood. "So this is the other solution."

"Yes…it is," I confessed, feeling an awful weight lift from my shoulders. "I considered every other angle first. I didn't make this change lightly. I can assure you—it was a last resort. I've never had to deal with that many black boxes on a project. I felt blind." Remembering the rest with a sigh, I told her: "But that didn't take care of the issue of your well-being. It was unclear whether or not Liara was still in your mind in the same way as before. Ashley already had a foothold there. I was worried about this."

I had never told Ashley that she wasn't the only one who had been present there.

I'd also spotted Tali in that space, clearly. Helping to maintain Shepard's softer side. Keeping her docile and gentle when it mattered most. And far more than that, past the fence. Off within the known unknown, unconscious and unreachable. Something more obvious, more sexual had caught my attention as well. Fascinating the hell out of me.

Yet I decided to bring this up to her later. Now simply wasn't the time.

Shepard noted, "And when you tried to warn Ash that I might be different, she didn't take you seriously."

"Not at all," I supplied. "She practically blew off my concerns. Though she did have one thing right."

Shepard asked, "What do you mean?"

"Ashley agreed with me when I said we could only wait and see," I relayed. "She also pointed out that you are your own person. You know yourself best. I wanted a more controlled resolution. But after thinking about it some more, it made the most sense. I could only hope that your instincts would save you, when you needed them most. It looks like I made the correct call. You seemed to have figured out what I did. Right when you were at your most vulnerable. I'm guessing this helped mitigate your reaction when Ashley hurt you."

"You guessed right."

I smiled a bit, speaking softly, "Then I'm glad I was able to help. I'm relieved that you're all right."

Shepard held onto my smile, and my softness, finding my truest sincerity.

As she did, I noticed…the way her pupils dilated. Darkening in size as a black sun. Taking me in.

Suddenly short of breath, I averted my eyes from hers. Away from that dilating, that blackening. Her absolute concentration in studying me, picking up on everything I gave off, with or without meaning to.

Shepard's tone remained direct. "You did this, knowing that you had everything to lose. In case I found out at the wrong time. In case Ashley somehow found out. It wouldn't have ended well for you."

"Yes…I know."

"Your feelings for me must be pretty strong. Aren't they?"

Privately, I thought to myself:

Of course I wanted Shepard. Of course I needed her.

Of course I wanted and needed her all to myself. Perfectly exclusive—with _no one_ standing in my way.

More than obvious, I…more-than-wanted her. More-than-needed her. Of course I did. _Of course._

And that may have influenced my decisions…but I couldn't let myself think about that right now.

"My personal feelings are irrelevant. We have our mission. Nothing can get in the way of that."

This time, Shepard didn't seem to believe me. Or rather, she didn't believe my defenses. My shields. My need to protect myself from being too vulnerable around her.

She already knew me better than that.

So I made myself clear: "This is probably obvious by now, Commander. But I didn't make this switch as a way to force your heart into my hands. Whatever happens between us…I want it to be real. Genuine. And if nothing happens, then our professional relationship as superior and subordinate will be sufficient to deal with the Reapers—given that we survive the suicide mission against the Collectors. I won't act on my feelings unless you show an interest in me. As with everything else, this is your decision. Not mine."

Shepard observed me again.

Concentrating.

Picking up on my giveaways, my clues.

How I had yet to re-establish stronger eye contact with her. How I had shifted in my seat several times now, crossing my legs beneath my desk; trying not to betray how soaked I was, _again,_ simply from being around her. How she analyzed every bend, every arch, every shape of my body within her sight's reach, possibly finding me to her standards. Or even surpassing her standards, her tastes, her interests— _I hoped._ Almost predatory in her focus, she established the clear structure between us. That this really was her decision. That she was impressed with me for my foresight, and my intelligence, but it wasn't yet enough for her to let her guard down. If anything, she expected _me_ to break character first before that would happen.

And I knew that I would.

With this, too, it was only a matter of time.

Once she was satisfied, Shepard replied with, "I'll think it over, then."

No outright rejection.

No insistence that I was crazy for feeling this way about her at all; for making the choices that I had made.

And no judgment, either…

I let out a breath, relieved. "Of course. We've both been through a lot lately. There's no rush."

I hoped that Shepard picked up on my meaning—that there was truly _no rush._ I needed to take my time.

She appeared to understand what I meant.

Shepard then changed the subject with her understanding, with her impeccable timing: "I'll reiterate what I said to Joker and Dr. Chakwas. I'm done with these lies. The deception. I expect complete honesty with you from here on out. I've had enough of people lying to me. Because if Liara or Ashley had just told me the truth, then none of this would've happened. So I need your word that we're not going to have any repeats of the past."

Aside from my factual honesty, I knew what else Shepard expected.

Being completely vulnerable to someone like her, _with_ my feelings, instead of hiding them away.

I almost couldn't stand the mere thought of this…but I was loyal to her. In every way imaginable.

And so I agreed to obey her wishes. "I understand, Commander. You'll have my full honesty."

Shepard stood up to leave. On a sudden reflex, I stood up with her. Mimicking her. Needing her to stay.

Already so fucking attached to her. Attached to her acceptance, to the promise of earning more rewards. More validation. After I had told her everything, shared _everything_ …except the obvious.

Sensing this, Shepard rewarded me again: "Miranda, allow me to recognize your accomplishments. You chose to make extraordinary sacrifices for the sake of the mission. For my sake. I appreciate your tenacity, your patience, and your superior intelligence in knowing what you had to do, and executing your plan down to a brilliant science. You also helped our team in ways that I can never repay you for. Your enduring loyalty to me is greater than anyone could ever hope to achieve. You've surpassed the ones who tried before, standing atop the ashes of their successes, and their failures. So you've earned your place by my side." This momentous pause. This _purpose_ in her eyes. She was completely serious… "In light of your decisions, your sacrifices, and your loyalty, I'm naming you as my second-in-command. As my executive officer and my primary fire team leader, the team will look to you whenever I'm not available. This includes on the ship and on the battlefield. No separation this time. No distinction. Will you accept? Knowing all that I've lost, can I count on you?"

Swelling with this _feeling_ that it had all been worth it, I saluted her. "Yes, Commander. I accept. You can fully count on me. I'll continue to do all that I can to support you. You have my promise. Thank you…"

And the swell of my sacrifices catching up to me—Shepard saw this mild sheen over my eyes.

She returned my salute with her strength. Believing in this initial promise of our connection together.

I bolstered my strength with her own. Not at all proportionate. Not at all how I would have wanted.

Shepard informed me, "I'm going to speak with Admiral Hackett about all of this. He should be expecting a call from me pretty soon. So I'm heading up to my room." These damned stitches over my heart were about to burst open. "Get some rest overnight. I'll plot a course for Omega to pick up that salarian scientist. We should arrive at 0900 hours. Will you be ready to continue with the mission by then?"

So uncertain… "Yes, Commander. I should be ready to proceed."

"If you change your mind," she stipulated, "Then I want you to let me know. There's no shame in that."

"Of course," I replied, forcing my voice to remain perfectly still. "That's kind of you."

Shepard gave me one final look. Giving me one chance to tell her what I wanted. To tell her what was on my mind. To share these humiliating truths that I couldn't give a voice to. Even after I had sworn my total and complete honesty to her not moments before.

But she seemed to allow me this type of exception.

In a way, this was an expression of my feelings. My feelings that I'd already said I would keep to myself.

With that, Shepard took her leave.

Leaving my office.

Leaving through the door, with those hissing sounds marking her exit.

Leaving me to this silence: the calming, ambient hum of the _Normandy's_ equipment running smoothly.

Leaving me alone without her. Without Ashley. Without anyone.

I wasn't sure how long I remained standing here behind my desk. Staring out to the abyss of the green permission over my door, hoping that Shepard would somehow know to return. All while not quite processing how alone I was, but still managing to feel it anyway. All while absolutely feeling this heated moisture building over my eyes, stronger now. So much hotter, thicker, and more persistent in this reminder of how alone I was. All over again, after all of my choices. My sacrifices.

Not knowing what else to do, I left my office.

Wandering to the elevator. Up to the command deck.

Wandering through the empty lab, going around this way to the comm room. Not through the armory. Not through where Ashley would have decided to work on the ship. If she'd had the chance first.

Wandering into the comm room itself. Using the QEC to place a call. The only call I could at this hour.

Accepting my rather rude call, given the hour, the Illusive Man welcomed me.

Welcoming me into the illusion of his surroundings across this space between us, I saw him there. Sitting before that supergiant, that molten red about to encroach on his location. Perfectly patient as he sat in his chair, defiant before that inevitable encroaching. Existing there, with his back to that impending pandemonium. Choosing to face me instead. Smoking his cigarette, he otherwise gave me his full attention, knowing what had occurred. Needing me to provide him with an update.

Just a debriefing.

Only a debriefing.

Knowing of this pandemonium encroaching within me, the Illusive Man merely asked, "How did it go?"

Limiting myself, hating myself, clutching my arms around myself—these handful of tears were enough to betray me. The Illusive Man knew what Shepard had done. He knew that the team was ready to accept this new reality going forward, finally living in the truth. He knew that Shepard and I had had a conversation in my office, though he couldn't know what exactly we'd discussed. Hence his question, seemingly so impersonal and objective. That was what it seemed like, but he of course knew me better than that. He certainly did. Mostly. Almost.

He couldn't know how terrified I was. Clutching myself like this to keep from shaking—I couldn't help thinking back to that sight in Ashley's room. Her corpse on the floor. Bleeding out like that after Shepard had executed her point-blank. Even with Shepard's newfound belief in me, I knew… If I made one wrong move, one catastrophic mistake, then it was over. No matter how perfect I was supposed to be. No matter my accomplishments, my tenacity, my patience, my intelligence and my sacrifices, it wouldn't _matter._ None of it would.

If I made a mistake, then I would end up just like Ashley.

And there wouldn't be any backups. No plans in the works behind-the-scenes. No alternatives.

I could keep telling myself over and over that I'd had to do this.

That it was _necessary._

But in this moment, with the Illusive Man watching me, watching as I struggled not to cry _too much_ before the fog of his smoking, I felt the build-up. I felt myself forced into this corner, with no way out. I felt the full effects of all that I had done. Knowing that Ashley was gone. Knowing that she had trusted me, and relied on me to protect her, only for me to betray her in the end. Despite all of my hatreds and fears, I knew that I had trusted and relied on her, too. _I really had._ I'd needed to take care of her and shelter her and spoil her with attention because of how depraved I was. And not only from wishing I could do those things for Oriana, for my own twin sister who didn't even know I existed.

But because of Shepard.

Because I longed to take care of her in those same ways, exactly like I'd done during the project.

Because I fucking needed her to reciprocate and do those things for me. Not only as a one-way street.

All for so many reasons.

So many reasons I couldn't begin to compartmentalize right now.

What little I _could_ make sense of: in this normal, healthy, and understandable separation from Shepard, I felt her absence. I felt it in my arms. As if she had been ripped away from my hold, all from her single decision to leave my office earlier. Ripped right from my arms that I kept clamped around myself, pretending that she was here. Because now that she was around me, now that we were both on this ship together, I couldn't stand to be apart from her. Now that I had shared so much with her, nearly all that I had gone through while she was dead, I couldn't handle being away from her anymore.

And I hated it.

I hated this.

I despised that I couldn't just be on my own anymore.

I detested how attached I was to her, _already._

Yet if I messed up with her, then she wouldn't hesitate. Shepard wouldn't hesitate to make me pay. No matter how much I felt for her or sacrificed for her or destroyed for her, if I crossed that line of her tolerances, then that was it. Just like Ashley, the strength of my emotions for her wouldn't be strong enough, wouldn't be good enough to keep me safe from her judgment.

What if I was next?

What if I failed?

_There wouldn't be anyone else left…_

The Illusive Man put out his cigarette, premature. He stood up from his chair. Walking toward me, closer to my form through the QEC, he reached me here. Standing taller than me in his self-assurance, his flawless personal security. Existing next to me as he was…as if to embrace me in this way. In the only way he knew how. Sympathetic, his form shadowed with the red of that dying light behind him. Understanding, the eerie blue glow of his eyes remained on me, unobscured by smoke or by distance.

"Miranda, you and Shepard both represent the very best of humanity. I wouldn't trust this responsibility with anyone else. Shepard did as I needed her to do. When I spoke with her before, I wasn't sure if we could trust her. If she would be foolish enough to stay with Williams anyway, even after the inevitable hurt and lies. Shepard was notoriously difficult to read, after all. But she's proven herself in my eyes. A thousand times over. I hope that means something to you."

Sniffling harder than I should have, I told him, "It does… It does mean something to me. It means a lot."

"I know what you're afraid of," he appeased, oddly soothing. "You're scared that you'll mess up somehow. That Shepard won't show any mercy, should you cross her. But you already know that won't come to pass. It's frankly impossible. And you already know why that is." Disbelieving, all I could do was shake my head, hating that these tears welled harder in my eyes. "No one in this galaxy is more dedicated to her than you are. No one, in all of creation, could hope to make the same sacrifices you have made, and still live to tell the tale. No one loves her more than you do." Needing and hating those words, I couldn't stop the rest of this damned crying. "I watched you struggle with this for years. Ever since you first joined Cerberus. Your hard work, your suffering, and your deep loneliness have all finally paid off. You'll be safe in Shepard's hands, stained as they are with the blood of the women who were once in your way. She's exactly what you need. I want you to start believing in this. The sooner the better."

Spiraling off somewhere—or about to spiral—I couldn't believe in anything.

Everything felt so dark.

Cold. Hopeless.

But the Illusive Man still said to me, "This is your throne now, Miranda. You've earned it. Stay true to your loyalties with Shepard, and everything will be fine. I trust her to take care of you. _We_ can trust her. I believe in you both. And I fully believe you'll get through this. I know you will. You always do."

I barely heard my own voice. "Yes, Sir… Thank you."

When the call ended, and my surroundings dissolved from that illusion, back to the _Normandy…_

The reality of my emotions caught up to me.

Alone in the comm room. Barely standing. Still crying like this, still clutching my arms around myself for some type of control, I was about to break. Everything had crashed down on me. Everything, _everything_ that I had done, scheming and plotting and lying and deceiving and bending and breaking other peoples' minds to suit my needs, to suit what was _necessary…_ I knew what I was. I knew exactly what I was.

So fucking desperate. Depraved. Disillusioned from all that I lacked and had never had.

I was nothing.

No one.

I wasn't real.

Nothing about me mattered.

Nothing about my identity belonged to me.

Only my mistakes. Only my inevitable mistakes with Shepard, leading to so many lives lost. Everything. Gone. Even after all that I'd thrown away. Even after standing atop the ashes of the ones who had tried before. Right over their blood. Because mine would be there someday. It was inevitable. Unavoidable.

So cold, and dark. Hopeless, harder.

_I couldn't do this._

_I couldn't handle this._

It was too much, all after twenty years of destroying myself already. Destroying what didn't exist.

But right when I was about to give in…right when I was about to fall into this darkness, I saw a light.

I felt the light.

I felt that warm, compassionate sunlight on me, wrapping her arms around my waist. That golden brown complexion, soaking in the light of the room—and shining in a slight wetness, as she had recently showered. And collecting more of my shame that had fallen from my face, still slipping now. Collecting over her skin, the slim sinew of her arms, so strong in purpose and protective intent with me. Higher up, the blue of her short sleeves over her defined biceps: Alliance blue. Alliance fatigues, as those solid blues mixed with the lighter collection of camouflage. And down behind me, the sturdiness of her matching combat boots kept us both in place.

Shepard held me from behind like this. Wearing her Alliance colors, while the Cerberus logo over my uniform had already been doused with my near-failure. So close, so near; Shepard had caught me right at that moment. Right when I had been about to spiral into the worst. Something far worse than I had ever fallen into before.

Knowing how inescapable this could have been, Shepard tried to turn me around in her hold.

Not wanting her to _see,_ I hissed out, "Don't. Don't look at me."

Not minding at all, Shepard held me more. Holding me tighter, to keep me standing like this. But as she did, I felt myself panicking more. Almost short of breath. Fearing: because I'd never expected to have her affection. Not now, not ever. I wasn't prepared. I didn't know what to do, what to think. So terrified of where this could go. She could have broken me. She could have.

Shepard could have ended me in this way instead. And I would have loved every second of it in my masochistic terror. She could have destroyed me in the same ways that I had done to Ashley, all without killing me. Something worse. Something that depended on my bleeding heart for her. Something for Shepard to enjoy, to find her sadism from…all in consent. All in discovery. All in enjoyment. All in that type of trust I had never, ever given to anyone before—only taken on my own, for fear of what this other side was like. Fearing it so much more with her affection. With how capable she was. With how capable I was of giving _everything_ to her. Doing anything for her. Whether she asked me to or not.

So tender in her candor, in her control, speaking right in my ear. "Miranda, are you afraid of me?"

Needing my own control, needing my control back, I told her anyway, _"Yes!"_

"Are you afraid of what you're capable of?"

"Yes…I am. I'm afraid. I'm terrified of myself, who I am. What I am. What I'm not. What I will sacrifice for you. I will do _anything_ for you. And I hate it. Goddamnit, I hate it! I hate how much I… How I can't—"

 _How much I need you._ _How I can't live without you._

Shepard understood.

"Listen to me," she soothed, far more effective. "You don't have to go through this alone. Not anymore. I'm here now." Reinforcing, she smoothed her arms higher around my waist, making me arch into her. "I don't want you to keep worrying on your own. We've both been through hell and back. So we need to recover. I'm putting the mission on hold for the time being." Realizing how out of sorts I was, I couldn't even object to that. "I've already set the course on the galaxy map. We're going home. I want you to stay with me while I'm there. The guest room is yours. I'll look after you. All right?"

_Home…_

After so many years of worrying on my own, looking after myself…her offer sounded quite wonderful.

Needing to believe her.

Needing to trust her.

"All right," I made myself say. "But…for how long?"

"However long we need," she soothed, more. "A few days, or a few weeks. Until we're okay again."

Somehow, Shepard managed to escort me back to my office, my room. An even bigger mystery, I managed to pack my usual Burberry bag with whatever I needed for these days or weeks: products for my hair and skincare routine, for my makeup, for showering and for whatever else; and for my monthly _problem_ coming up tomorrow or so, which I of course wanted to blame for my ridiculous hormones and emotions, even though I knew better. Shepard noted that she would allow me to link up my holo-closet to the one in her guest room, so I wouldn't need to bring any clothes. I only brought a jacket, then, not really knowing why. When I was done, I then managed to sit with her on one of my couches, near a window. Leaning on her for support as she held me together in her arms; basking in her full presence, her smooth scent. Watching as we approached Earth.

I believed her.

I trusted her.


	28. Home

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Everything up to and including this point, I had already finished writing before posting the story. I have more completed chapters that I wanted to keep to myself for a while. After I post the next chapter soon, you can expect me to update at a normal pace. Basically, when the chapters are done. Not every couple of days like I've been doing unless I get lucky. Aside from any general life circumstances that might come up, I shouldn't run into any major problems with updating. I've planned out the entire story down to the very end, leaving room for organic developments. It's only a matter of getting it done. Nothing else going on during quarantine aside from freelance writing as my day job, and playing Mass Effect 3 multiplayer after all these years. So I'll be here.
> 
> Thanks for reading, everyone. I appreciate it.

" _Home" from Deus Ex: Human Revolution_

 **XXVIII.** Home

_(Miranda)_

Shameless walk of shame through the _Normandy_ to the bridge:

Walking on my own proved difficult. Ashamed without feeling shame, without that feeling really reaching me, I let myself lean on Shepard instead. Setting aside my pride for this wasn't as agonizing as I'd thought it would be. Especially since most of the crew were asleep in their rooms, instead of remaining at their stations to witness my would-be shame. And especially, more, since Shepard chose to be such a gentleman about this—letting me hold on to her arm with both of mine, bending hers over her front in support, and carrying my bag for me in her other hand. Being this close to the long sheen of her gorgeous hair shifting against me in her movements, and the still-fresh smell of her skin from her recent shower…it all kept me calm. As calm as she was in her stern strength. So much novelty hit me in this moment as well, leaning on her Alliance fatigues. Leaning on her in my Cerberus uniform as this unexpected symbol of unity.

The only one still awake at this hour was Joker, sitting in his seat at the helm.

He and Dr. Chakwas had finished sorting everything out with the Alliance in Shepard's stead.

It was done.

It was all done, and there was no taking any of it back. I never had to think about _her_ again if I didn't want to. I never had to see her again, speak to her again. My days of manipulating her were over…and I needed to move on. I needed to reconcile with myself over what I had done. Of course, it had all been for the right reasons, as I continued to justify. But my emotions weighing me down and slowing my footsteps—they wouldn't listen to reason. I knew I needed to rest, even though my mind had automatically shifted to work, to working through my issues—to making the same mistakes she had made, instead of facing myself. I felt as if I could actually survive this now. I just…needed some time.

I had never allowed myself this sort of time before.

I would always drown myself in work instead. Or find other ways for a much-needed release. Now, it seemed quite natural for me to give myself this allowance.

Right after my call with the Illusive Man, all of this had seemed untenable.

But as soon as I'd felt Shepard's arms around me, saving me from that abyss, everything had changed.

Finally believing in someone like this. Trusting in someone like this—because I had seen inside her mind itself, knowing that I could believe in her, and trust her. Knowing that I could lean on her like this and not feel ashamed, or embarrassed, or weak. I needed my independence, but I still depended on her.

So very momentous and moving…as if Shepard had already chosen to make me the middle of her world.

Hearing the sounds of my approaching heels, Joker turned around in his seat.

"Hey, Shepard. Hey, Miranda," he said, not seeming surprised. No judgment, either, from seeing me like this. "Need to wind down after all the crazy drama? We've got clearance to stay docked for a while."

Shepard responded, "Yeah, pretty much. The mission's on hold for now. We'll treat this as extended shore leave for a couple of weeks. You're free to head out to the town whenever you want. Or just stay on the ship—it's your call. I'll let you and the crew know once we're ready to continue on."

Joker understood. "Aye, aye, Commander. Take all the time you need. We'll be here."

Leaving the ship with Shepard, we exited the airlock to a standard docking bay at one of San Diego's many transport stations. American flags hanging everywhere, tall picture windows open to the cloudy view of the city late at night, and only a few civilians wandering through: we had enough privacy out in public like this. No one seemed to pay us any mind as we walked through the night-lit station, heading to the rapid transit area. Such a large, mostly empty space that normally would have been bustling with arrivals and departures, all paused to this solemn halt. Chilled with the weather outside somehow filtering in through the windows, of the cold February night that awaited us.

After a brief ride through the rapid transit, Shepard guided me to the monorail station nearby. Even with the decreased traffic so close to midnight, I was convinced that the monorail still would have been faster the rest of the way home. And far less stressful.

As we took line two to Central Station, Shepard allowed me to sit nearest to the window. She sat next to me, of course, still having me lean on her shoulder, keeping my arms tangled in hers.

Never could I forget this view: of riding straight over the brilliant blue of the San Diego Bay. Past the near-island of Coronado holding up its set of tall, dark, imposing buildings glimmering with those golden lights, everlasting. Although, the charcoal black rainclouds overhead had me worried. I could feel the thunder rumbling through me, right as I heard the low roar of those sounds, warning of the storm. I hoped we arrived home before it started raining. I didn't want to get my hair wet. And I knew that Shepard would have hated the same, for her own hair. Already, I sensed her growing moody over the prospects.

Moody or not, quiet or not, I enjoyed being here with Shepard this time. I enjoyed her strength, so resolute in acting as this shield for me. I enjoyed her presence in general, so full and all-encompassing. Clear-eyed and focused, Shepard seemed far more aware of her own sense of self, and who she was. As if her identity had returned to her at long last after having escaped her for so long. With that solid return, she was able to be this centering force for me, and for herself, after all that had occurred.

Shepard had evolved from this ordeal for the better.

She also appeared to evolve even more, from doing all of this for me. Give-and-take, her efforts to center me and support me had reflected back onto her. Entirely mutual.

Realizing this, I felt my quickened heartbeats. Just at the right pace. Trying to find harmony with hers, through her thundering pulse I spotted along her neck. And how her skin glistened in this dulled night, soaking up every single beam of light around: Shepard knew she had my attention. Yet she wouldn't look at me, determined to remain rooted in her thoughts for the time being. Thinking about me with that handsome scowl of hers. To help her stay strong, for the both of us.

I was so used to doing everything on my own. Relying on myself. Dealing with my problems in isolation.

This was certainly a new experience for me. But I wouldn't have allowed it with anyone else.

I smiled against Shepard's shoulder for the rest of the ride, eternally enchanted by her calm, her silence.

Once we'd nearly arrived to Central Station, Shepard retrieved my jacket from my bag. Gentle in her care, even with her outward intimidation, she set my jacket over my shoulders, as black blending with the dark leathers of my uniform. I realized, then, that I should have at least brought another one, for her, since she only had those short sleeves on from her fatigues. But Shepard didn't seem to mind at all, more focused on making sure that I was taken care of.

I wanted to thank her, yet I couldn't quite get my voice to work. Not after my embarrassment earlier.

Intuitive as ever, Shepard knew.

She guided me along with her understanding as we left the monorail car, having arrived at the station.

Passing through the service tunnels, I was glad that this place was also mostly empty. This cold, colorful tile didn't have the annoying echoes of all the noise I was used to. Only the thudding reverberations from the police officers, from their footsteps as they patrolled the area. Armored as ever, with their assault rifles out in the open, they remained on-guard. Even as they recognized Shepard, nodding to her in a cordial respect, they offered me the same sort of approval, simply because I was here with her. Even though they had no idea all that I'd orchestrated in this city two years prior, fooling them with ease.

Though I did notice many of them turning to stare after us, after we'd walked away. No doubt overanalyzing the way I leaned on Shepard like this. Gossip was bound to spread at this point, but I couldn't really care about that. Not at a time like this.

As soon as we left the station to the cold chill outside, I smelled the rain in the air, looming near. I figured we only had a few minutes at best before the downpour began. The clouds had somehow thickened, blackened: billowing more of that strange golden mist throughout the immediate area, following us everywhere.

Walking the short distance to Shepard's apartment building, past the crowded police station, the Pantheon-like bank, and the closed shops and restaurants, I remembered every other time I had passed through here. Having wished that these honey-yellow lights brightening the night could have illuminated Shepard by my side, with me: I'd finally received what I wanted. Even though I felt awful, noticing Shepard's arms—the way her thin, light hairs stood up on-end, over her pebbled skin from the low temperature. But she didn't show any other reaction. Too focused on escorting me, on getting us home.

Arriving to the Chiron Building's lobby had always filled me with a gloomy sense of longing before.

I would pass through this area glittering in the light from the avant-garde chandelier overhead, wondering what it would've been like: for Shepard to actually bring me home with her. Even in this platonic way. So very platonic as we entered the elevator together, going up to the 34th floor. Platonic and careful, with so much unspoken as the elevator sounded our next arrival, out to the hallway. Cozy and scentless in this empty hall, the carpeted floor absorbed the sounds of my footsteps. Such warm woods filled me with this sense of home already. Such quiet at this hour, with everyone safely in their own apartments, completely unaware of all that had transpired on this night.

I hoped to find my own oblivious calm soon enough.

Unlocking the door to her unlit apartment, Shepard settled her hand along my lower back, guiding me to enter her home first. Pleased by her consideration, I went inside, warmed already by the clever heating system, having already prepared for us. And perfectly neat and clean, everywhere. The VI's greeting, "Welcome home, Commander Shepard," struck me as incredibly novel. I had spent all this time wishing to hear that instead. Needing to hear it. Now that I had, so much began to fall into place for me. I could begin to let go of the madness that had gone on; and that I had orchestrated, all to reach this point. More so once Shepard removed my jacket for me, so respectful in her touch and care.

Drawn to the windows, I took my time stepping down the chrome staircase, reaching the open space between the living room on my left, and the door to the guest room on my right. Darkness from outside reigning in, the rain poured and poured outside, the heavy droplets spattering against the tall, tall windows of Shepard's apartment. Hazing through in a stubbornness, the golden city lights beamed through that dark, lighting up the sheer order and magnitude of Shepard's video game collection; her gigantic television along the far wall; her display of sniper rifles that lay out on the long table nearby; and her kitchen hollowed out as another hallway somewhere behind me, right by the front door. All the while, the stark storm raged outside, thunder and lightning puncturing the atmosphere: white-hot lights flashing through the gold here. Gazing out to the sheen of the city wetted in this night, I found my own reflection staring back at me through the window. And again, I recalled the instances when I had done this before, filled with such desire for this moment. Filled with so many hopes and dreams that I'd only ever labeled as silly, as cynical, as senile… Never allowing myself the chance to _believe_ —until tonight.

Falling into the heaven of Shepard's apartment, I much preferred her home to mine. Hers was nothing like my stylish, clinical space on Illium, in Nos Astra. But I only had a place there to keep an eye on Oriana whenever I could. Obviously, I couldn't do that anymore with the mission. I at least let myself entertain the idea of returning there someday with Shepard, when the time was right. To show her.

I spotted Shepard's reflection nearing me from behind. She appeared to float over the floor in silence with her combat boots removed, set by the door. She stopped just behind me. _Right behind me._ As dashing as she was in her air of mystery, I disliked that I couldn't read her expression, her reflection. Then again, Shepard seemed to do this on purpose. Holding this power over me, able to listen to my quickened breathing. If she knew how much tighter my chest felt within my leather, I wasn't sure how she might react. Ever too respectful for her own good, she made no effort to stare down at my cleavage.

The night vision of Shepard's eyes glowed more in the lights from beyond. Misting gold thickened the sunlit colors there, vivifying her stare. Unintentionally undressing me this way with her full attention.

The depths of her voice reached so deep inside of me, she could have… "Miranda. Are you hungry?"

 _Not for that._ "No, Commander. I'm not. But thank you for asking."

"Then the guest room is yours, as I said. Take a shower. Sleep there, just to rest. You can use my terminal to get some work done if you need to. But we should take it easy while we're here."

"Of course, Commander. I appreciate your hospitality."

Looming behind me. Breathing against my hair, near the top of my scalp. Making me want to bend over for her against this windowsill, to help me _forget._ "You don't have to keep calling me Commander anymore. Not all the time. Not unless we're on a mission, and you decide to do it. We're past that now."

The only thing I could say: "All right."

Shepard already knew. "Is there something on your mind?"

Swirling chaos of my thoughts, of my fantasies all colliding into one, as reality before me:

For the first time in twenty years, I finally felt noticed in the right ways. Desired as I wanted. Noticed, and desired by Shepard, even in the dark depths of her power over me. For her eyes did nothing less than engorge mine through our shared reflection here, devouring every scrap of my vulnerability that she could see. Every scrap that I couldn't keep hidden, slipping from the crevices of my attempts: my attempts to remain neutral. Professional. Put-together. But my persona could only hide so much. Especially from her, as sharp-eyed as she was. Sharp-scented. Smelling blood as the predator she no doubt was, during these precious hours before my period was due to start.

Because if Shepard touched me again, my temperature would spike.

My _heat_ would start.

And even though she had already showered, the mere recent memory of her actions was still on her. That execution was still on her. That judgment was still in her aura, her power, and her stare. I didn't sense Shepard looking at two women at once, or three: those from her past, and me. In fact, the absolute clarity in her eyes had me more unsettled. Because I'd _expected_ her to leave me to my spiraling, my chaos. I'd expected her to leave me to fend for myself—or perhaps finding some enjoyment in my breakdowns, taking a sadistic pleasure in watching me fall into that abyss.

Yet here was Shepard, standing but a breath away from me. Right behind me.

Here was Shepard, prepared to reach out and touch me, if it would set me off.

Here she was, so devilishly handsome and beautiful and superior…and I wanted to die all over again.

"Miranda. Use your words. I can't read your mind." Really…? Sometimes, it honestly felt to me as if she _could._ "Unless you expect me to figure this out on my own, you need to speak up."

This rasp sanded down my voice. "I think you already know what it is."

Shepard's lips quirked ever-so-slightly. "You should say it anyway."

I hadn't prepared for this.

_I wasn't prepared._

Watching this mild trembling form about me, Shepard discerned, "Then let me just say this: I thought I was done with contradictions. Needing to navigate someone's emotions that they keep under lock-and-key. Having to read their mind. Dealing with the cognitive dissonance…when they act so put-together and polite on the outside, while they're craving something else deep down. Something else that isn't nearly as polite. Something else where they end up torn apart by me. Destroyed. Broken."

Hurrying away from her, I rushed forward. Against the windowsill. Spinning around to face her, to look at her—letting Shepard see this sheer terror in my eyes. Because I didn't know how else to tell her. I didn't know what to say, or what to do. Especially when she kept standing there…still holding my bag. Maintaining this distance from me, only staring more as I fought to keep breathing.

"Shepard, wait!" I panicked. "Please, I know what this looks like… I understand. I do!"

"No, Miranda, you don't," she countered. "Even though you should. You're supposed to get it by now. I wouldn't be here at all if it wasn't for you. I owe you my fucking life! So, naturally, I'm going to start noticing you more. Picking up on the signals you give off. Learning the shape of your breaths. The way you sound. Your scent, your smell. _Everything."_ It took everything in me to not go over to her; to not give in. "Your biology itself keeps pulling me to you. Your skin is clearer. Your voice is softer. You keep blushing around me. And you somehow assume that I don't notice. You can't seriously believe that."

Too much lust getting the way.

Lusting more and more, all from Shepard's struggles. She forced herself to remain rooted there. She forced herself not to come on to me, so soon, _already!_ Shepard forced herself to restrain her reads on me, and from acting on them. Setting the sharp shape of her jaw, she stayed there. So tall in her stature over me, even from this distance, I wanted her over me. All over me. I needed her to tear off my uniform and tear into me, tearing right into this heat that had already turned me on. Turning Shepard's possessiveness right on, all the way up, to the maximum in her attention on me. Turning her full focus to me, in her need to please me as the people-pleaser she was—naturally—as her way of rewarding me.

In all of her attentiveness, her possessiveness, her intelligence and creativity, I wanted her.

Fuck, I _needed_ her.

But it was too soon for any of this. Far too soon. Much, much too soon.

Not to mention, I was nowhere near prepared for her to have me tonight. Not yet. As requested, she wished to know where I stood. I couldn't leave this unspoken. Inferred. I couldn't leave her to read my mind, otherwise she might have chosen to read my body instead. I had to be clear with her, _or else._

So I forced my voice to cooperate: "Shepard…listen to me. I've had my eye on you in some form or another for twenty years now. Ever since you had your start in the fashion industry. Because it's been so long, I'm…" When Shepard licked her lips, reflexive, my heart started hammering twice as hard. Three times as hard. Harder for how hard she might have been, if—"I regrettably can't control myself around you. Not nearly as much as I would prefer. With that said, I should like to remind you of what I said earlier. Back on the ship. About how whatever happens between us, it has to be real. It needs to be. We can't have that if I open my legs for you here and now. If we're going to do anything, then it must be on my terms. My terms include an actual, _exclusive_ relationship in due time. Not just sex. If I'm going to be yours, then you have to be mine as well. I won't allow you to rush me…no matter how precise your senses are. This can't crash and burn. I can't risk that. We need to do this right or not at all. Am I clear?"

In response to my demands, everything about Shepard's aura and posture tightened considerably.

Rigid.

Firm.

_Hard._

Yet her eyes softened. Softening in her acquiescence. Soft in the way she obeyed. Softer in her acknowledgment, even as her hormones and her possessiveness continued to rage on in superiority. So much more once she spotted the collar around my neck, hammering with my pulse. For her. Only her.

With her subservience toward me, I saw an opening in this dilemma of mine, of ours:

For all of my brooding and worrying before—over whether Shepard wouldn't like me, over whether she wouldn't see me as a _real woman_ —I'd managed to have some confidence about this. Some type of light, or hope. Hence why I had lowered myself before. Presenting myself as non-threatening. Remaining incognito with her ex, given my sparks of confidence, of light and hope. Because now, I saw it before me in Shepard's own contradictions. In the way she could have lunged at me. In the way she could have devoured me here on the spot. In the way I would have let her, knowing that it would only make me resent her for it in the morning… But she managed to control herself.

Shepard controlled herself now because of my demands. Because I had made myself clear.

Because I clearly, obviously wanted her on top of me, inside of me—but I remained forceful enough to lord my own power, my own control over her in fairness and respect for what we had now. Reigning her in like this. Setting rules for her to follow. Elevating myself above her in word and in deed, even with the clear, obvious knowledge that I would remain submissive to her in physicality, in emotionality.

Mentally, in our shared, superior intelligence and capabilities, one of us needed to have the upper-hand.

If I allowed Shepard to have it outside of bed, then she would have destroyed me ten times over.

Instead, this was…manageable. Having Shepard become docile in the face of my expectations: I could handle this. Even as this soaking wet build-up continued to heat my thighs trapped in this leather of mine, I could deal with this. _I could breathe._ I could function, knowing that Shepard had given me this upper-hand in our power exchange. Knowing that she trusted me with this, as I had learned to trust her.

There was no turning back from this. None whatsoever.

"Shepard," I repeated. "I need your acknowledgment. Because you have a responsibility, now that this is out in the open between us. A responsibility…to not break my heart. You're the only one who could truly hurt me. It's why I'm terrified; why I keep giving you these blatant contradictions. But I do want us to move forward. I want you to do this right; to give me everything I've ever imagined with you. So I need you to get over her first. I need you to give me at least _some_ space to breathe for a few days. And don't come anywhere near me with sex unless…unless it's for a serious relationship. _Later._ Until then, I need you to prove to me that you're still the honorable woman I fell for years ago. Can you accept that?"

Simple, honest, respectful: "Yes, Miranda. I understand. I'll take care of you. You have my word."

I genuinely hoped that the Illusive Man was right about her. That she was exactly what I needed. And that she could take care of me. Even though I'd never wanted or trusted this from anyone else before.

Shepard remained an exceptional exception to so many of my rules in life.

"Thank you," I expressed. Cautious, I reached out my hand. "I'd like you to give me my bag now. We should get some rest. Not that we _need_ to sleep, with this insomnia. You know what I mean, and why."

Shepard stepped forward. One pace at a time.

She stopped at the required place. At the required arm's length space between us.

Designer, chic, well-made: Shepard handed my bag to me.

I accepted this next exchange, accepting my belongings. Noting even how she held most of the bag's weight for me, tightened in the grip of her fingertips. She wouldn't let me deal with the burden of this weight—not until I had firmly fastened the bag in my own hold. So much care, detailed. Consideration.

Yet this hardness, this dominance about her continued to build and brim.

This _heat_ about me was about to explode. I needed to deal with this in private. Alone. Away from her.

With my bag in-hand, I circled around her.

Around, facing her.

Around, to the open door of the guest room.

Rounding with me, Shepard stayed in place. Only moving to continue facing me directly. Tracking me with her eyes: my lingering caution, my heeled footsteps. Following my every movement. Staying perfectly still while the night rain's shadows trailed down her skin, reflecting the thunderstorm. Storming so much harder, deeper, she continued to restrain herself in her respect, with that same honor I had come to expect and adore from her. No matter what she suffered, and no matter what she went through, I would never allow her to forget this part of her. Because this was her. This was her identity. Without it, she was a mere idea of a person. I knew better, since I hadn't fallen for some _idea_ of her.

Once I made it through the doorway, I could have simply closed myself off. Closed the door and called it a night; left things at that. But it didn't feel right. I would have felt terrible, shutting Shepard off in such a cold manner. After everything we had both been through, I couldn't be that callous with her. I could instead admit to myself that I wanted to test the waters.

I wanted to see for myself if Shepard would actually let me have some type of power over her. After her experiences with her ex outright abusing that power, surely she had to be sensitive to such a thing. Or perhaps alert to the possibility that I would repeat those same mistakes.

I wanted to give her a preview: to show her that things would be different between us.

Our brand of polarity was nothing like what she was used to. And it was new for me, too.

"Come here, Shepard," I whispered. "Just for a moment. I want you to kiss me good night."

Turning my head away, down and at an angle, I restricted her access to my lips in this way.

She knew what I meant. What I wanted; what I wouldn't yet allow.

Still gentle for me, still docile for me, Shepard came closer. Nearer. Closing this remaining distance, while still remaining outside the invisible boundary of the doorway. At this angle, not meeting her eyes, I could but taste those raining shadows sweating down her forearms. Those shadows curved around the bulging branches of her veins running just underneath her saturated skin, as if drenched from the rain. I saw the shape of her hair flowing down her chest, nearest the bend of her arm, so perfectly beautiful.

Leaning down, Shepard raised her hand right beneath my jaw. Supporting the structure of my face with her tenderness, her lissome touch feathered me in firmness. Her duality, _always:_ she brought her lips close enough to the corner of mine, with her dulcet understanding softening her ever-present strength.

She was tempted to do more. And yet she avoided it, for both our sakes.

I felt it all fluttering from her, a bit more from her lashes over my skin.

I felt it more in her deep voice over me, breathing out: "Have a good night, Miranda. I'll see you when you're ready. In the meantime, I'll be in my room. If you need anything, just send me a message. All right?"

"Yes, of course," I accepted, beyond flushed. "Thank you. Good night, then."

Shepard pulled away. Back behind that invisible boundary of the doorway.

Before I could give into my own temptations, I closed the door. It slid shut between us. Locking, red.

Yet I knew she lingered outside. I knew she was still there. I knew that I could have changed my mind at any time and opened the door, pulling her in here with me. Given myself to her, given into her. All to risk that crashing, that burning I didn't want. That resentment. That pain, that shattering of my heart down the line once things inevitably didn't work out between us.

Craving her anyway, all I could do was press my back to the door. Wishing I could at least have her arms around me again. Imagining the pleasure from her certainty: in just how she felt, shaped so insistent against me, behind me, needing me.

However long I stayed here like this, I knew that the other half of my desires remained on the other side.

In this way, Shepard took care of me, catering to me in the exact flavor I needed from her. Tasting exactly as the depravity that had driven me through her reconstruction. Drenching me in this fulfillment: that she had imprinted onto me in all the ways that I'd craved. Only time would tell if she could follow through in the way I wanted. Consistently insistent in her doting, perfectly focused on me. _No one else._

* * *

_(Shepard)_

Taking this time worked out well. I hadn't realized that I needed a break. Not until all of this happened.

Once Miranda went to bed, I stayed up. Mostly checking around the apartment to see if anything was out of place. Oddly enough, nothing was off, or gone, or different. When Miranda and Ashley had stayed here before, it was almost like they'd used this place as a rest stop, instead of actually settling in. I assumed it was Miranda who had gone out of her way to keep everything clean for me, since she had acted as the caretaker before. It was just my room that was different. Filled with the everlasting roses I had given Ashley, back before I'd died. Before everything had changed, leading us down this path.

I spent the night-morning gathering up the roses. Gathering up anything else that Ashley had left here, which wasn't much. Unlinking her holo-closet from mine. Removing her name from my will. Going through the motions of rationalizing with myself. Letting all of this go. Upset, but without letting myself cry over what had been, and what never was. Wondering how I'd managed to fall in that deep with someone, only for it to turn out all wrong. But I knew, unequivocally, that I'd made the right choice in the end. My team needed me.

In the morning, as soon as the post office opened, I drove down and sent her things back home. Back to Amaterasu, with her mother and her sisters. I supposed the flowers would be some kind of condolences, as they'd heard the public story by now about Ashley's death. She hadn't named me in her will, since I'd obviously been dead for two years. So I had no obligations. Her family had always hated me. Except for Sarah. I already knew that they didn't want me to visit, or to attend the funeral. And now, it looked like they'd had every reason to despise me, all as that demon that had been out to corrupt Ash in the end.

Maybe I would have agreed with them.

Maybe, just maybe I would have.

But when I got back from the post office that morning, I took another look around my room.

There on the windowsill was the single giveaway. The one thing that would have tipped me off to Ashley's lying, if she had decided to go that route. The single, obvious clue that would have started that same exact argument between us on the _Normandy,_ and that likely would have ended the same way, with her choosing her damn cowardice and self-preservation over our relationship, over her love for me:

This framed picture of Liara and me, on the Presidium. The one of us smiling at each other. The gift Liara had given me for my thirtieth birthday, while we'd visited the Temple of Athame together on Thessia.

Ashley had turned the frame face-down.

Leaving the picture that way.

Likely for the entire time I had been gone. Very likely since the night she had killed Liara.

All as a reminder for how Ash had _expected_ me to get over this and move on with her.

Seething, I picked the frame up. Brushing off the two-year-old layers of dust. Sniffling from the dust; from the absolute disregard. From how fucking insensitive this felt to me. Like a punch to the stomach.

When I'd woken up after the Lazarus Project, yeah, I was pissed at Liara. I'd hated her. I'd picked sides.

But I had made my choices without knowing the whole story. Without seeing the full picture.

And now that I knew, I hated _myself_ for being so blind.

I set Liara's picture back where I wanted it. Sitting it up properly this time.

Throughout that whole saga with their rivalry, I had been incredibly naïve. Too trusting. Too quick to assume that their problems with each other hadn't escalated any further than their half-drunk, half-lustful argument at Dark Goddess on my birthday. After all, Liara had kept encouraging me to be with Ash, and to be with her genuinely. To not hold back. To not have any regrets. Little did I know, Liara had known the truth. She had seen all of this coming early on. With or without the rivalry, the trauma, the drama surrounding my death, or whatever else…the truth was going to come out some day.

The heartbreaking truth that Ashley would always choose herself over me. In some way or another. Yes, she would make exceptions from time to time. For her own reasons. But from what I knew now, those reasons had always looped back to what worked best for her. Whatever was in her best interests. Whatever would keep her safe and protected. Whatever would ensure her own well-being.

As self-sacrificing as I naturally was, someone like that was always going to draw out the worst in me.

Until the moment she'd hurt me.

Until that spell had broken.

Until I'd realized that someone else had worked to protect me, to keep me from losing my mind.

Even though that should have been Ashley's responsibility.

So if Liara had been trying to protect me from all of this…then I could forgive her. As difficult as it was.

And if Ashley had been trying to avoid all of this, in prioritizing herself and her dishonesty…then I couldn't know what to think. Because it had all turned into a self-fulfilling prophecy anyway.

Behind-the-scenes, Liara and Miranda had both worked so hard to look out for me.

All while my actual girlfriend had had her priorities fucked up.

In that sense, I couldn't blame Liara for not being honest with me. I might not have listened to her.

Staring at her through this picture lit by the morning light, I said out loud, "I'm sorry, Liara. I'm sorry I couldn't see the truth on my own. I'm…sorry I didn't put you first when it mattered most. You sacrificed everything for me, loving me the way you did…even when I didn't deserve it. And now, it's my fault that you're gone. You couldn't defend yourself because of me. But if this hadn't happened, there's no telling what the outcome would've been. Either way, I can understand if you're angry at me. Wherever you are, I hope you're okay. I hope you're at peace. And if you _are_ angry…then I hope that you can forgive me."

As for Ashley, I had already said my last words to her.

As soon as I'd made up my mind to be honest with the team, to tell them the truth…I knew this would happen. I knew she'd been in too much pain. I knew she wouldn't trust herself to live in the light, away from those lies. I knew her pain would decide this for her. So we'd already had our closure. It was done.

One last thing of hers: our picture still on my nightstand closest to the door. This picture of her and me, from Noveria on that fated day. The picture that Tali had taken of us in secret, with Ash and I looking at each other in our lust. The primary feeling and sentiment that had brought us together. Even after my _initial_ first impression of her on Eden Prime had been a neutral indifference, spiked with my intuition. Believing, and knowing that there had been something about her that I wouldn't have been able to ignore after a while. Only for that something to spiral out to this ridiculous mess.

Taking this picture with me to the living room, I considered:

The first feeling that had reached me with Liara had also been lust. Needing to dominate her. Finding her innocence so attractive, and mouth-watering. But I'd slipped and fallen into something more with her later, after realizing that she could have been both for me. Switching like that in her command. She'd had that potential. Then everything had gone wrong, with me letting my temptations and my curiosities get the better of me. I couldn't even blame that _connection_ between Ash and me. That was just my bad. My mistake. I knew it at the time and I fell right for it anyway. And then the rest happened.

By contrast, the first feeling that had reached me with Miranda…was pure security from her true love. Her care for me, all wrapped and coalesced into that moment. That single moment when I'd opened my eyes for the first time, and I saw her smiling down at me. That immediate culmination from feeling her in me throughout the Lazarus Project—it had created all of this today. All of this that allowed me to trust her here in my home like this. All of this that gave me such comfort, knowing she was in the guest room.

Since Miranda had the door closed, I could do this without her noticing.

Reaching my huge TV screen, I used my omni-tool to move it up and out of the way. Safe and secure, I found my silly hidey spot lodged in the wall. I had made this when I'd first bought my apartment about a decade ago. I'd thought it was such a cool idea at the time. But I only now realized that Ashley could've accessed this thing if she had thought to look here. That would've defeated the purpose of everything.

I set her picture in here with everything else: old handwritten letters, other pictures, and general reminders from the rest of my exes. Movie tickets. Data disks with logs from our extranet conversations. Christmas and birthday gifts that had been too valuable to throw out. Old-fashioned keys that were supposed to be the keys to their hearts, given to me in sentimentality and symbolism. Suit ties and cufflinks that I couldn't stand wearing anymore because they only reminded me of one of these people.

Looking around the living room, I spotted one last thing, sitting over the coffee table:

The red video game controller that Ashley had given me for my birthday.

Taking a deep breath, breathing out the last of my reservations—I picked up the controller, setting it inside this hiding place with the rest.

I then searched around my other collection of gaming peripherals, next to my display of games along the wall. Almost arbitrary, I picked up the violet controller. Glancing it over, I remembered that I had never used this. I couldn't remember when I'd bought it, or why. Only that I had been in the mood to try something different with this more feminine color.

Definitely something different now, I set this violet controller on my coffee table.

Then I returned to my old relics, my old memories in this hiding spot.

Looking at this collection of my failures, I started questioning myself. Wondering what the point was. Seriously, _what_ was the point of loving a woman at all if things could fall out like this? And to this extent? What was the fucking point of courting her, falling in love, having a relationship, convincing myself that it was all meant to be, setting my possible resentments aside to put her first, having her declare that she wanted to marry me—if not outright proposing—and having her say she wanted to have my children, and that she wanted everything in the galaxy with me…only for it to all end someday?

_You move on. Harder and tougher._

That was what I would've told myself before.

That had always been the lesson I'd taken away from my exes.

I couldn't keep doing that. It apparently hadn't worked at all.

Staring at these lost relics, I tried another approach. I changed my perspective. I changed my views:

Remembering Liara's wisest, bravest lesson—I chose not to run away from my feelings. I chose to forgive myself instead. I chose to tell myself that it was all right to feel this way. And I chose to tell myself that it was okay that I had messed up. It was okay, because I didn't regret my decisions last night, even if I wasn't proud of the choices I had made with Liara and Ashley long ago. I didn't regret putting the team first. I didn't regret taking care of Miranda like this. I didn't regret wanting to see where things went with her, despite my mixed emotions from these relics. I didn't regret anything with Miranda. Not even my initial suspicions. Because if I hadn't thought to spy on her conversation with Ashley in her office, then I wouldn't have known what to expect, going into that argument. I wouldn't have trusted my instincts telling me to trust Miranda instead. I wouldn't have trusted the choices I had made now.

I could stop running. I could stop hiding. I could stop pretending.

I could stop equating strength with the absence of doubt, confusion, loss, _emotion._

And I could start embracing all of my doubts, confusions, losses, and emotions as my friends.

My friends…instead of my demons.

It was okay to feel this way. It really was.

As soon as I breathed in this acceptance, stinging my throat on the way through, I felt the change.

Like I had reawakened in this morning light of my living room, I felt my new perspective, changing me.

Strength, discipline, honor, determination, perseverance, and growth: qualities and traits that persisted in me _because_ of my emotions. Not in spite of them. In tandem with them. Hand-in-hand with them. I'd just had no idea until now. Now that I could articulate the obvious. Now that I'd decided to stop running.

Miranda had reinforced this in me last night, on our way here.

The way she grew to trust me, to lean on me. Not in spite of her emotions, but because of them. And even the way she trusted me now, to take care of her. She trusted me with this responsibility, to not break her heart. To not jump into anything with her, only repeating the same old mistakes I'd made. To make her the middle of my world over time, swelling into that crescendo with true purpose and meaning. Anything less would've been a disservice to her, to me. And to all that had brought us here.

Miranda had reinforced this again, specifically when she'd said:

" _I need you to prove to me that you're still the honorable woman I fell for years ago."_

In my thoughtless need to please her in the raining moonlight, _to repay her,_ I'd forgotten all about that.

I was glad that she'd remembered. I was glad that she hadn't fallen for an idea of me. _She knew me._

I was glad that Miranda knew exactly what she wanted and needed with me. She'd been perfectly clear.

And I respected her more for being upfront. For being the better woman that I needed her to be.

With these changes in me, and with this new perspective, I closed the curtain on this hiding spot. I returned my TV back to its place. Hiding this hiding space. Staying rooted in the decisions I'd made that had all brought me to this point. Determined to press forward, smarter and better, _with_ my feelings.

Whatever happened with Miranda from this day onward, she at least deserved my gratitude.

She didn't deserve those mistakes from me. She didn't deserve my indifference, either. _Running away._

So I had to do right by her.

Sitting down on the couch, I noticed how much higher the sun had risen through the clear skies. Closer to the afternoon at this point. I hadn't realized how much time I'd spent sorting through my memories.

Finding more memories, I looked at my video game collection along the wall. I had time now. I could relax and kick back. Play something. But for some reason, I wasn't in the mood. Not yet. And I definitely wasn't up for playing my N7 game. Not even with Legion, now that I knew it was my friend. I just didn't have the heart to play that game again.

I'd noticed earlier that Miranda had likely had this quantum entanglement communicator installed here in the living room. I couldn't mind too much. If for some reason the comms ever fell in this area, the QEC would still be able to connect to someone. We wouldn't have been completely cut off in that case. And I knew that it was Miranda's idea, specifically. She thought of everything. Always prepared; reliable as always.

I opened up my omni-tool's messaging interface.

Our chat room. _The Prodigal._

I knew what the word meant—extravagant, lavish, wasteful. It just didn't seem to fit Miranda at all. Not like that. Not the version of her that I was familiar with.

I made a mental note to research this. There had to be some kind of explanation, somewhere.

For now, I sent Miranda a message, to see if she was awake. She actually replied to me, writing back and forth:

_[11:04:28] Me: How are you doing? Are you hungry?_

_[11:05:12] Miranda: I suppose I'm all right. Not terribly hungry. Thank you for asking. What about you?_

_[11:05:55] Me: I'm okay. I know neither of us really needs to eat that much. I'm only wondering if there's some other reason why you don't have an appetite. Something tells me you didn't eat at all yesterday, either. You sure you're all right?_

_[11:06:30] Miranda: It's quite sweet how perceptive you are. And I am fine. Technically. It's that time of the month for me, that's all. Today is the fifth, so I'm right on time. Nothing to worry about, really._

_]11:06:49] Me: Do you have cramps or anything?_

_[11:07:28] Miranda: Strangely enough, they're not that bad this time. I'm used to having terrible pains and mood swings. That isn't the case today. Only a mild annoyance, but an annoyance nonetheless._

_[11:07:40] Me: You have enough pain meds to deal with it?_

_[11:08:02] Miranda: Yes, I have plenty of meds stocked in my omni-tool. There's usually something more I want around this time. You don't have any in your kitchen._

_[11:08:14] Me: What is it?_

_[11:08:59] Miranda: Well, you don't have any tea. You didn't have any the first time I was here two years ago, when I checked around. I was rather disappointed. Aside from how impressive and put-together your apartment is, you've quite the bachelor pad. Simple foods and bare necessities only. Other than your wines and champagnes, of course. You have more video games than decorations. Don't think I haven't noticed._

_[11:09:30] Me: I don't see the point in decorating if I'm never here. I like keeping things simple. And I can go get you some tea. There's a liquor store down the street that sells regular drinks._

_[11:09:43] Miranda: Shepard, that's not the kind of tea I'm talking about._

_[11:10:59] Me: You don't want the cold ones in a bottle?_

_[11:11:03] Miranda: No._

_[11:11:11] Me: What, you want the old-fashioned tea leaves instead?_

_[11:11:34] Miranda: Now you're just being facetious._

_[11:11:51] Me: Then what kind of tea do you want me to get?_

_[11:12:24] Miranda: Lemon, herbal, chamomile. With real honey. No sugar. You don't have a silver kettle, either. I suggest investing in one. You won't regret it._

_[11:12:40] Me: You mean the kettles that whistle when the water's finished boiling?_

_[11:13:02] Miranda: Yes. It's a clear sign that the water is done and ready. There's no fuss._

_[11:13:12] Me: The whistle is annoying. That's a fuss._

_[11:13:30] Miranda: The fuss is over when you remove the kettle from the stove. Besides, I find the sound oddly nostalgic. I don't enjoy tea that's prepared any other way. It isn't the same._

_[11:14:55] Me: That's fine. I'm surprised you want honey instead of sugar. Whenever I have this kind of tea, I only like it with a bunch of sugar poured in._

_[11:15:20] Miranda: In that case, you might as well drink warm juice. Honey is superior. It isn't overpowering. Not like your silly sugar. And don't you tell me that's the whole point. I won't tolerate it._

_[11:15:43] Me: Okay, Miranda. I get your point. You want the bags of tea—lemon, herbal, chamomile. Honey. No sugar. With the silver kettle. I don't have any tea cups, or mugs. So I'll get some for you._

_[11:16:10] Miranda: That sounds wonderful. Thank you, Shepard. I appreciate it._

_[11:16:36] Me: There's a certain cup I have in mind to get for you. To make it obvious that it's yours. It's a Zodiac thing. When is your birthday? Do you know anything about what your sign is supposed to be?_

_[11:17:23] Miranda: This is a surprise. Though I'm very curious now. My birthday is on September 11th. I know—9/11. I'm thirty-six years old. Four years older than you. And I'm a Virgo, an Earth sign. I can be rather fussy, needing perfection in every aspect of my life. Worrying too much about details. Worrying about everything. Stubborn. Always criticizing myself. Overanalyzing all the time. Apparently we also have a bad reputation for being secretive. I suppose I can't refute that._

_[11:17:43] Me: Hmm, interesting._

_[11:17:57] Miranda: What's interesting? What do you mean by that?_

_[11:18:53] Me: Your birthday is a month before mine. Give or take a few days._

_[11:19:19] Miranda: You took far too long to write such an obvious response. What's the real issue?_

_[11:19:35] Me: Don't you think it's weird that we're typing to speak like this? Texting, whatever. You don't want to come out here and talk?_

_[11:20:05] Miranda: And risk having a repeat of last night? Absolutely not. It's better that we use this to speak instead. At least for the time being. I can't be seen around you like this._

_[11:20:20] Me: So…you're sequestering yourself away from me?_

_[11:20:42] Miranda: Yes, that's exactly what I'm doing. You know why. Let's not get into this._

_[11:21:19] Me: All right. I won't bring it up again. I should go. I'll pick up what you said you wanted, and some food. I'm assuming you have a sweet tooth. I'll find something we should both like. Do you have any allergies I should know about?_

_[11:21:42] Miranda: That's kind of you. I do have a sweet tooth, yes. No food allergies to speak of. Thank you again._

_[11:22:01] Me: I'll get going, then. I'm sure you'll hear the whistling when your tea is done._

_[11:22:10] Miranda: Shepard, wait._

_[11:22:17] Me: What is it? What's wrong?_

_[11:22:30] Miranda: There's something bothering me._

_[11:22:41] Me: What's bothering you? What's the matter?_

_[11:23:02] Miranda: What was your 'interesting' response to what I said about my Zodiac sign? You never told me what the issue was._

_[11:23:14] Me: It's not a big deal._

_[11:23:37] Miranda: Well, it is to me. I won't be able to put this out of my mind. Not until you tell me._

_[11:24:13] Me: Seriously?_

_[11:25:57] Miranda: I just told you that I overanalyze things all the time! Besides, I thought we already established this in our first exchange here. You called me out for overanalyzing you while we were on Freedom's Progress. Surely you must understand why I do this with you. Don't make me explain it._

_[11:27:09] Me: Two of my exes were Virgos._

_[11:27:14] Miranda: Oh._

_[11:27:40] Me: Like I said, it's not a big deal. I don't put much stock into astrology, either. It's just a fun thing sometimes. The past is in the past. It's done._

_[11:28:26] Miranda: You do sound quite convincing. Both with the past and with the present. I'm surprised by this as well. But I shouldn't prod you about it. I'll let you get on your way. I'll be here._

_[11:29:12] Me: Do you want us to keep talking once I'm back? You did say you needed your space._

_[11:31:31] Miranda: A tempting offer…_

_[11:31:55] Me: Who's the one taking forever to respond now?_

_[11:32:23] Miranda: I resent that._

_[11:32:59] Me: Miranda, tell me what you want._

_[11:34:34] Miranda: Shepard, you can't say things like that! Are you completely unaware of how you come off?! Especially through text! You really ought to know better… You're going to drive me up a wall with these double-meanings of yours._

_[11:34:58] Me: Sorry. I'm direct._

_[11:36:45] Miranda: Yes… You are. You're very direct. Hence my current dilemma with you._

_[11:37:21] Me: Then what's the solution?_

_[11:38:13] Miranda: There doesn't need to be a solution. I'd like you to keep speaking with me. And I want you to continue initiating our conversations whenever possible. Messaging you first before was pure torture. I'd much rather avoid any repeats of this._

_[11:38:40] Me: If you need me to take the initiative, then I will._

_[11:40:11] Miranda: That is what I need, yes… Thank you. Though I should let you get going this time. Tell me once you've returned. I don't just want to listen for your VI, or for that whistling. Please._

_[11:40:39] Me: Understood. I'll let you know when I make it back to the building. I won't be long._

* * *

Taking this new time to cater to whatever Miranda wanted: I hadn't realized that I needed this, too.

Because she was so _fair_ with me.

More than fair.

Even though I was the one who had gone out to buy her these things, she needed me to do this. Miranda seemed to thrive off of the way I treated her, almost doting on her by _doing,_ though without that stereotypical affection that could have gone with this. Give-and-take, I gave her what she requested and she gave me her true gratitude every time, making everything worth it. I knew she wasn't manipulating me. I knew this wasn't a repeat of what had gone on before. I knew Miranda wasn't trying to take advantage of me—because she and I were both too smart to bother with that, to fall for that, or to repeat that mistake. That necessary mistake.

So I could pick out this tall coffee mug with the Virgo sign on it, and pretend that it was a tea cup, knowing that Miranda would like it. I could buy plenty of her teas and the rest of the things from her shopping list, and everything else I'd added after the fact, knowing that she appreciated my efforts.

Messaging her after parking my car, and having her message me back right away, I felt her dependence, her _need_ to know that I was okay. I'd assuaged her possible fears that I had gotten into a car crash—paranoid in her care as she was—but in such a sweet way. Making her tea with warm brunch for us, dealing with the annoying whistling afterward; putting this attention to detail into all that I chose to do, mindful that Miranda was well-aware of the same details, since nothing got past her…it all felt different.

I even liked that Miranda refused to go collect her food from the kitchen until after I was in my room. With the door closed. She was _really_ serious about this whole sequestering thing. After how much I'd overwhelmed her last night, without meaning to, I guessed I couldn't blame her. She took extra care to compliment me on my cooking. Making sure I knew she enjoyed this. Making up for things that way.

So we continued messaging each other throughout the day, non-stop. Talking. Just talking.

Then late at night, Miranda would insist on sleeping, just to rest. Just to let us breathe apart.

And then by midday, I would have her tea and brunch ready. The same as before. Then I would retreat to my room with my food. Miranda would emerge from the guest room and get hers. And then we'd continue talking, messaging—about her father, Henry; about her sister, Oriana; about her genetic modifications, with hints that she felt insecure about these; and some light debates about the ethics of what Cerberus got up to, with Miranda affirming that she only focused on her own work. She wasn't loyal to the extreme ideals that Cerberus stood for. Only what _she_ stood for—being a realist, and making hard choices in a hard galaxy, to protect humanity's best interests.

And I believed her. I accepted that.

Even though I was convinced that she was blind to the truth, it didn't matter right now. I was comfortable enough with crossing that bridge at a later time. As long as Miranda had never involved herself in those extremes—and she'd made it very clear that she hadn't—then I could live with this. For now, at least. She would have to face a reckoning someday, anyway.

We kept this up for the next few days.

Keeping up this routine without it feeling rote.

Even though we were apart like this—under the same roof anyway—I was surprised by how at ease I felt with her. Maybe because of everything we'd gone through. Or maybe because Miranda felt familiar to me, past this actual time we had spent interacting with each other. Lying in bed in my usual boyish white tank top and my sweatpants, with my under armor underneath, I actually felt comfortable enough to do this, knowing that Miranda could have technically come in here at any time. I knew that she wouldn't. Not unless I offered. For strictly platonic reasons.

In that need for things to remain platonic between us, I sensed some of Miranda's reasons for this.

The chaos brimming beneath her polite exterior, her factual tone through text: I still sensed it, even now. It was the very same that I'd smelled in her during our first night here. It was the exact same that I'd spelled out of her in her panicking, in how cautious and restrained and reserved she chose to be with me now. Needing to do this right or not at all. Needing me to prove that I was still the same person she knew, and had always known from before.

As intoxicating as Miranda's truest depths were, I couldn't go anywhere near those waters of hers.

Feeling too much like a shark, smelling her blood in the water…I wasn't supposed to be like that.

Not with her. Not anymore.

Or at least, not right now. Not any time soon.

So Miranda and I kept up our routine for about a week or so.

As we did, I knew I had to find some other way to deal. To put _that part of her_ out of my mind.

While Miranda was busy taking a shower, I pulled up my email. I tried re-reading the messages I'd received during this past week. I'd already responded to them. I only wanted to pass the time while Miranda was busy with her hair and skincare routines, taking forever:

_From: Urdnot Wrex – Alpha Victory._

_Shepard,_

_Good to know you're back in action. Joker told me everything. Glad you took care of the problem. I was about to handle it myself. Too impatient. Too angry over the lies, the betrayal. I miss Liara. Still sad that she's gone. Wish I could avenge her somehow. She'll always be my precious blueberry. Even more since she tried to protect you. I'm not mad at her for what she did. I understand. I just miss her. Liara showed me that it's okay to feel again. You helped me out. She was the first one. Never the same without her._

_That Miranda of yours is a real woman. Joker told me she likes you, heh. Figured it was obvious. She did all these things for you. To help you out. Powerful stuff. Legendary._

_Know what impresses me about her the most? She took out the alpha female with her superior mind. Not you. You're not the alpha female. You're Shepard. Miranda's the alpha female now. She's deadlier than a lot of krogan I know. Respect. Heard she's beautiful. I bet you appreciate that, huh?_

_New journey, new connection. Can't wait to meet Miranda when you come visit Tuchanka. I owe her a lot._

_-Wrex_

.

_From: Anderson, Councilor – Welcome back, Commander._

_Shepard,_

_Thank goodness you're with us again. Still hard to believe, if I'm honest. Even though I knew ahead of time that you'd return. Losing you two years ago was difficult. More than difficult. I almost fell back into the worst. Trying to find meaning at the bottom of a glass again, especially after we ended up losing your remains. Especially after it happened on my watch. So I'm relieved that Cerberus did what they needed to do to bring you back. Hard to say that they actually gave me hope after I'd nearly lost myself. I'm a little wary about you working with them, but the Collectors are really causing too many issues out in the Terminus Systems. It's unfortunately beyond Council and Alliance jurisdiction. I hate having to play nice about this, following the rules. But if you're out there taking care of the problem, then I can rest easy._

_I understand you spoke with Admiral Hackett. He told me everything about what happened. I'm not surprised by your decisions with Lieutenant Williams. You protected your team from her. As heartbreaking as this all is, I sympathize with you. The Illusive Man and Miranda Lawson were two of our most unlikely allies. And yet they were the ones who brought all of this forward, helping to keep you safe. I'm trying to count my blessings here. As long as you're healthy and doing well, I shouldn't complain._

_Whenever you're able to stop by the Citadel, let's arrange a meeting with the Council. We'd like to formally reinstate your Spectre status, and catch you up on our war preparations against the Reapers. Afterward, you and I should have a talk about the rest. About how you're doing. Hackett tells me you're all right. Our discussion can just be for some peace of mind. For old time's sake._

_-Anderson_

.

_From: Alenko, Staff Commander – Condolences._

_Commander,_

_It's been a serious whirlwind in the news._

_First I heard you were back from the dead. Then I saw you and Ashley out at the Super Bowl, having the time of your lives! Then I heard she was dead…killed-in-action during her first mission after making N7. It's a lot to process. I can't even imagine what you're going through. Defeating the odds to come back, only for Ash to die not long after._

_I'm really sorry for your loss._

_I'm still broken-up about it myself. Couldn't focus on my work. Had to take a few mental health days._

_Ash was there for me the whole time, while I recovered. Sure, she was busy with her training, but she always took the time to check up on me. See how I was doing. The rest of the team did, too. Just not as much as she did. I'll never forget that. Hate that she's gone. She had her whole life ahead of her. It reminds me that I could've lost it all…if you hadn't helped me out when you did. I'm grateful for that._

_Wish we could catch up in-person. Unfortunately, I'm stationed out in the Terminus Systems. Looks like a long-term assignment. I've already been here for a while. Guess email will have to do, if you'd like to talk. I know we were never all that close before. But if you need an ear, I'll be happy to listen. Whenever._

_I missed you a lot, too, Commander. Despite everything…I sure am thankful that you're back with us._

_-Kaidan_

.

_From: Vega, Lieutenant – Sorry._

_Commander,_

_Hey, it's James. James Vega._

_Got your Alliance email from one of my buddies. He said this is supposed to be legit. I'm really hoping it is. Sorry if this is weird. I got a few things I need to get off my chest. Sounds selfish. I guess that's the way it is. Either way, I'd appreciate it if you could hear me out. You don't have to respond if you don't want to._

_I just…wanted to apologize to you, Ma'am. For disrespecting you the way I did, overstepping my bounds. Losing Lieutenant Williams like this all of a sudden, it's gotta be painful. Sure was a kick to the gut when I heard the news. I'm sorry she's not with us anymore. Personal story and all—I did look up to her a lot. She went through a hell of a time, clawing her way up through the Alliance the way she did. Gave me hope that maybe I could do the same. She was relatable to me._

_You've always been my hero, Commander. We're both from the same city on Earth. And we've both seen our fair share growing up on the wrong side of town. You made something out of yourself. Something out of nothing. It's a huge inspiration to me. Got me through some tough times. That hasn't changed._

_What happened at the Super Bowl opened my eyes. Yeah, at first, I was kind of upset. Wasn't expecting my idol to tear me a new one the way you did. After I'd just got back from a pretty bad mission for the Alliance, I thought I'd seen it all. You showed me that I still have some growing up to do. A lot of growing up. I'd give anything to go on this journey while serving under your command. Just putting that out there._

_Good luck, wherever you are. Hopefully we'll see each other again. On better terms._

_-James_

.

_From: Tali'Zorah – Re: Catching up._

_Shepard,_

_This is rather sudden._

_I heard the news about Ashley. And I know…that I'm supposed to say sorry. I'm supposed to tell you that I'm sad; that I'm crying my eyes out over this. But I need to be honest with you. It should say a lot that I haven't even created a new email chain for this message. Just replying to our current one. I understand that I'm taking a risk in speaking my mind like this. So please, hear me out._

_I think Ashley lied to me while you were gone. About too much. I pretended to keep being her friend over the past two years. Hoping she would come clean. She never did. Her death feels like an escape. Like she ran away from the truth. A cop-out, as you humans say. Is that the right term? I think it is._

_I tried to keep my thoughts about her to myself. I knew you were excited to be with her again. Hell, I saw how happy the two of you were at that sports event on Earth. I didn't want to ruin anything for you. I still can't get rid of this feeling that she lied about so much. Even to you. If I'm right, then I hate her for this._

_This sounds so cruel, I know. I wish I could get rid of these thoughts. I can't. They're eating away at me. I nearly lost my focus during the last assignment I was on for Father, collecting these inactive geth parts for him. I have a full platoon of quarian marines protecting me out on active battlefields, making sure that I'm able to do my work safely. I can't afford to let this keep distracting me. I had to tell you how I feel. I'm sorry if this isn't helping you right now. I truly am. If you're angry with me…I won't blame you._

_-Tali_

.

Re-reading these messages, it still felt a little surreal that I'd been gone at all. That so much had changed with everyone since then. Wrex seemed to be his same old self for the most part. Poor Anderson had almost lost himself because of me. Kaidan could have possibly fallen back into his old sorrows, too. I hadn't expected to hear from that James Vega guy, though I'd still sent off my reply to him, too, basically apologizing for our encounter during the game. Now that I understood why I'd been so aggressive that day, I felt pretty ridiculous about it. I shouldn't have gotten that angry over something so…pointless.

I noticed that I'd focused on Tali's email the most. As glad and relieved as I was that she'd chosen to be honest, I still couldn't help worrying about her. She had been through so much. Ever since I'd died, it had been one thing after another for her. I hated that she was in so much pain, and that I may or may not have made things any better for her. I wouldn't know until I told her the whole truth in-person.

But I knew for myself, without a doubt:

In that moment when I'd pulled the trigger on Ashley's wrath, I'd had two specific people on my mind.

Blowing out that blood, ending that hatred and drama, I'd needed to protect everyone. To protect the team.

Protective of Miranda.

And _overprotective_ of Tali.

Needing to keep her safe. Ready to kill for her. Ready to end anyone for her…even her own best friend.

I could never let anyone hurt Tali. Not again. Never again.

I was so sensitive to her state of mind; how it seemed like she wasn't in the best place these days.

Because, in my other emails to Tali, I would ask her two normal questions:

One, of how she'd coped over the past two years, dealing with so much loss and agony.

Two, of what she and her father Rael'Zorah had gotten into an argument about last year. It sounded like it had been pretty rough. Enough to almost ruin her again.

Tali would never answer me. She flat-out avoided the questions instead of dancing around them with non-answers. She refused to say a word about how she had coped with her grief and sadness over losing me. Not even to insist that she would talk to me about it later, or in-person. She would really only reiterate that her father had started coming back around, forgiving her for whatever they'd argued about before. Tali needed his approval and validation about whatever this was. Hence why she was on these missions to retrieve those inactive geth parts, to help with his research. As a favor to him. So there was something going on there. Something was wrong. And all I wanted to do was fix this for her. To make this right. To make up for what I'd done, in basically taking Liara away from her. The only person who could've helped her get through all this.

I felt this stronger need to protect her, every day going forward. All for one simple reason.

Tali had been with me since the very beginning.

_She was all I had left._

Sniffling, wiping away the emotions that had slipped from my eyes, I realized how much time had passed. I recalled that it was still February. And I remembered:

It was almost Valentine's Day. The day after tomorrow. I wondered if Miranda was aware.

Curious, considering, I used my omni-tool to do some research. First, by looking up the origins of Miranda's name. Latin roots, like mine. Not too surprising. And this was originally the same name of a character from _The Tempest,_ a comedic play by William Shakespeare. The prodigal virgin daughter of Prospero, courted by a prince named Ferdinand.

Perfect. Peerless. The best collection of her genes, each from various sources. Worthy of admiration:

_Admired Miranda!  
Indeed the top of admiration! Worth  
What's dearest to the world! Full many a lady  
I have eyed with best regard and many a time  
The harmony of their tongues hath into bondage  
Brought my too diligent ear: for several virtues  
Have I liked several women; never any  
With so fun soul, but some defect in her  
Did quarrel with the noblest grace she owed  
And put it to the foil: but you, O you,  
So perfect and peerless, are created  
Of every creature's best!_

_I am in my condition  
A prince, Miranda—I do think, a king;  
I would, not so!—and would no more endure  
This wooden slavery than to suffer  
The flesh-fly blow my mouth. Hear my soul speak:  
The very instant that I saw you did  
My heart fly to your service, there resides  
To make me slave to it, and for your sake  
Am I this patient log-man._

These verses spelled out so much of how I felt.

How I viewed Miranda in this blossoming romanticism.

Not idealizing her, or putting her up on a pedestal. Instead, she challenged me to be gentler. More understanding than I thought I was. More patient. So I decided to do something for Miranda, for Valentine's Day. I could buy gifts for her. Ask her out on a date. Giving her a preview of that life with me.

Eyes still locked to the words of this play, the low rumble of my omni-tool went off, making me smile.

_[17:43:12] Miranda: Shepard, I have a complaint. A grievance._

_[17:43:35] Me: What's wrong?_

_[17:44:04] Miranda: The mirror in here is broken. I can't see myself properly for anything after showering. I've had to use my compact mirror instead. Why haven't you had this fixed yet?_

_[17:44:16] Me: Sorry. I keep forgetting._

_[17:45:02] Miranda: Well, I'm waiting for a solution this time._

_[17:46:30] Me: You can come stay in my room instead. The mirror in this bathroom isn't broken._

_[17:49:05] Miranda: Do you mean now?_

_[17:50:34] Me: Yes._

_[17:52:44] Miranda: Are you sure you want to see me? I'm not wearing what I normally did when I was here before. I actually have on what I'm most comfortable in. I might surprise you._

_[17:53:30] Me: Then surprise me. Come in here. We can watch something on TV and talk together._

_[17:56:09] Miranda: Only if you promise to behave yourself._

_[17:56:40] Me: I promise I'll behave._

_[18:02:11] Miranda: I'll be right there._

Belated, I used my omni-tool to open a spot on my ceiling, near the windows across from the bed. My other gigantic TV screen shifted down from the space, suspended there; covering the sunset light filtering from outside. I turned the TV on, figuring Miranda would appreciate the fashion channel. Coverage for New York Fashion Week was currently on 24/7: and right now, Vera Wang was on display, with the show featuring a wedding-like theme with the runway's visuals, this close to Valentine's Day. To make sure we could see everything properly, I halved the blinds to dim more of the light in the room, leaving the television screen to shine as much as possible.

As soon as I finished, Miranda entered the room…

As a statement like the models walking the runway, she walked around my bed, around to the other side, since I was already on the side closest to the door. In pure confidence by that striking sway of her hips, she kept her eyes locked to mine, taking in my stunned reaction.

Shaping her, fitting her perfectly, Miranda had on a black, sleeveless, solid lace nightdress. Walking the way she did with her self-assurance, she almost fooled me into thinking she had on a short, tight bodycon dress instead, with the cut reaching her mid-thighs. The V-neck along her front had just enough traditional lace to conceal her technically-visible cleavage in a smart way. At the right angle, I could see the V-back revealing the polish of her spine in this lighting.

And as Miranda circled around at last to the other side, getting into bed with me, my eyes followed her face, and her hair shifting along her shoulders, as impossibly beautiful as she was. But in my periphery, always, I caught the impeccable contours of her curves as she moved. And her thighs, thicker as she shifted. Settling in with me under the sheets.

She still had on her collar, too.

Admiring, admiring…with my mind wandering.

Miranda knew.

She grabbed one of the pillows, hitting me with it. "Didn't I tell you to behave?"

Mind still wandering, I told her again, "I'll be on my best behavior."

Miranda scoffed. "You're incorrigible."

Enjoying her attitude, I reached my arm around her smooth shoulders, pulling her closer to me.

Taking her own turn to be surprised, Miranda hesitated a bit.

I eased her over, more, having us lean back against the plush-like wall of my pillows behind us. She soon gave in with a sigh, moving into my guidance: settling her head over my chest, relaxing here. Freshness from her recent shower reached my nose, with Miranda's heady midnight scent tempting me in this new, feminine allure of hers.

Warmth from the top of her head stayed just along my jaw with us in this position; with Miranda feeling unexpectedly small and submissive in my hold, tempting me all over again. This contrast of how I stayed up at a strong angle, with her curling into me like this, with her hand along my tank top, teasing the possibility of moving into me more—all of it created this heart-throbbing sense of her security with me.

Listening to this throbbing beneath her ear, Miranda seemed more at peace with me because of it.

If we were going to get anywhere, I understood that I needed to keep giving her this sense, this feeling.

Providing this security for her.

Not my madness. Not my penchant for _breaking._

To keep this going, I asked her, "Have you ever been to Fashion Week?"

Miranda sighed in regret. "No, actually," she replied. "I haven't. I really should have attended at least one show by now. There was never a good time. I was always busy with work or school. I would certainly like to go someday."

"Which one did you have in mind?"

"Paris Fashion Week is a clear draw," she noted, with a pleasant lilt to her soft voice. "There's a certain… _romance_ in Paris, and in Parisian high fashion. Haute couture craftsmanship is very gorgeous. I also wouldn't mind attending the shows in Milan someday. But if I could only choose one, I'd have to go with the venue we're watching now. New York."

"Really?" I wondered. "That's…"

Miranda laughed softly.

"Unexpected? I know," she said. "Let's just say I enjoy New York City quite a lot. It's where I attended university for my undergraduate degree. This was around the time I joined Cerberus. I spent all of my time focusing on work and school during those years. There simply wasn't room for me to see the sights and take in the city. Not as much as I would have liked."

"Understandable. Which school did you go to? Columbia? I can see you going there."

"Mmm, no," she answered, sounding amused. "Though I did consider it. That wasn't my first choice."

"Then which university did you decide on?"

Miranda chose to be mysterious: "I'll tell you another time. The short of it is: after I ran away from my father, I didn't join Cerberus right away. I didn't even have the chance to attend the school I wanted. Not immediately. I went through a situation first. Before I attended university. Before I contacted the Illusive Man and signed on with Cerberus. That era of my life…it's extremely personal. I've never told anyone about this before. But, if you keep this up with me, you won't have to wait for too long."

"Keep what up, exactly?" I asked, respecting her privacy.

"This," she repeated, softer. "What you're doing right now. Your intentions. You've surprised me."

Heat on heat, Miranda's skin felt warmer. Her shoulder under my palm, shaped in a limber elegance. And this side of her face along my chest, from the way she might have been blushing again. Maybe without realizing it, again.

I wanted to know, "You're not afraid of me anymore?"

Miranda shook her head, with the warmer roots of her sleek hair brushing along my face.

"Are you still afraid of yourself? What you're capable of?"

"I'm mostly over that," she shared. "I did what I needed to do. Being with you like this…it helps me."

"Then tell me what's on your mind," I requested. "Talk to me, Miranda. I'm not going anywhere."

Conscientious as ever, Miranda took a moment to consider. To really think before speaking.

As she did, I discerned this new taste in my chest, already having risen from my core. The shape of Miranda's contemplation inspired this rising in me. Not an element, not a familiar sense that I could name and describe, or liken to anything else I'd ever known. Just the beginnings. But even these beginnings, this prelude was enough of a preview of the rest: peace and tranquility brimming beneath a more explosive surface. That halving point, that barrier separating and joining the two at once…that was where I was at. That churning of contradictions existing in one place, as serenity building and rising up to an endless climax of chaos—sexual in need, and in locked attachments—blanketing and embracing me.

All because of _the way_ Miranda needed to feel this security with me.

Like her life depended on it, but she would never be that overt about it.

Not in an obvious way.

By the virtue of her lowered guard around me, when she was so accustomed to being so withdrawn—I understood completely. She didn't need to explain herself, how she felt. I respected her reservations.

Unspoken, my understanding, and my respect had Miranda moving into me more, comforting.

"Shepard, this is all very new for me," she expressed. "I know I gave you my terms, last week. About wanting a long-term relationship with you. But I've never actually been in one before. I don't think I've ever even… _dated_ anyone, either. I've only had certain arrangements for sex—or something similar. Some long-term, though most were only one-night stands. So this is mostly unfamiliar territory."

For sex…or something similar?

As curious as I was, I had a feeling that Miranda wouldn't exactly elaborate on that particular detail.

So I asked instead, "Is this why you put that hard limit on us having sex right now?"

Miranda grumbled, "I won't be another notch on your bedpost."

"You know that's not what I'm about," I countered.

"Not initially, no," she pointed out. "Though considering your relationship history, you'll have to excuse me for being the least bit…concerned. About ending up the same way as your exes. I'm not afraid of _you_ anymore. I'm afraid of that _possibility._ I refuse to be yet another footnote in your history, forgotten and discarded in your justifications. If I don't wind up dead, then that right there would destroy me. I don't want you to ever move on from me. I want to be completely special in your eyes." I could accept that. "Don't get me wrong. I'm quite relieved that you seem all right. After everything that's happened, I can't see you necessarily bringing on that type of baggage with me. I suppose it's a double-edged sword."

"Are you worried that if something happened, we wouldn't be able to work things out?"

Thankful that I'd brought this up first, Miranda replied, "Yes, I am. I'm more than worried about it. In fact, the mere idea terrifies me. Especially because I've never had to deal with that before. Whenever I was done with someone, it was all too simple to cut them off and forget about them. That's what I'm used to. Even with our previous situation. I don't want to suffer any sort of karma with you."

I reminded her, "Miranda, you have a serious advantage here."

"I don't want this to be about that. I want it to be about me, about us. Not what I've done for you."

"Okay," I accepted. "Then we'll set that aside. What do you need from me?"

Miranda shifted against me, awkward in her energy.

"A lot, Shepard. I need a lot from you."

"Such as?"

"A continuation of how things have been between us thus far. On an emotional level. Sexually as well."

I understood. "You need me to be a provider for you."

Too prideful, or too awkward again, Miranda wouldn't respond to that.

She didn't have to say anything.

"Intellectually, we have that part taken care of," I said, to get it out of the way. "Don't you think?"

"We do," she agreed. "No concerns there. Though there is something that's been bothering me."

"What is it?"

Miranda brought it back, "When I first messaged you, and we had that brief exchange…you told me that we weren't equals. As if to place yourself above me. With our chain of command, of course, I am subordinate to you. I would never change that. But is that all you meant? Or did you mean it in a more holistic way as well? I'm trying to figure out if you'd ever allow us to be equals. Interpersonally, that is."

"I shouldn't have said that," I conceded. "You proved me wrong. Regardless of the power dynamic between us, I do see you as my equal. I've only ever felt this way with you. So this is new for me, too."

"And what if I told you that I don't want this power dynamic to remain set in stone with us?"

I felt my heartbeats quicken from her sultry tone, from her suggestiveness. "What do you mean?"

"Mentally," continued Miranda, well-aware of my reaction, "I'm used to being in control. The first night we were here, and we had that encounter—I don't know if you noticed the shift between us. How I found solid ground to stand on once you handed the reins over to me. More than anything, that single moment helped to set me on this road to recovery. If not for that, I'm not sure what would have become of me. I'd probably still be locked in the other room, refusing to speak to you at all."

This sounded familiar… "Are you saying you want both with me? As in switching?"

"Yes, Shepard. Eventually. When it's right. We don't need to discuss it now. I'm only making you aware."

"That's fine with me," I told her. "Whatever the dynamic is, though, you seem happy with where we are today. Pleased. You know that I'm a people-pleaser. But that's what keeps getting me in trouble."

Miranda clarified: "I'm not out to take advantage of you. I could never do that. And I understand that I hold a certain amount of power over you. We both appear to enjoy this. I simply want you to know that I'm choosing to be responsible with my power. I will always be responsible with this. Especially with you. This is my way of returning the favor. Taking care of you, in my own way. Whatever you need. In return, I want you to continue on with what you've been doing for me. Just… _more._ Deeply so, with your heart."

"Then that's what I'll do."

Taking the risk, I eased Miranda even closer to me.

Bringing her over, she let herself lay on me, against me. Even as her movements slowed in her genuine surprise, Miranda allowed this closeness with us. She settled her head completely over my chest, resting here. Listening to me breathe over her hair; listening to the TV in a restful attentiveness, finding a delicate sort of sentimentality from the rest of this Vera Wang set for Fashion Week.

Guarding her like this, settled my arms around Miranda's neck, around the flow of her hair, learning more about her heat, and the way she smelled in this heady allure. Nestled in my guarding, I felt the broadening of her smile over my shirt, from the way her lips curled up in her contented mood. Comfortable and secure with me.

I knew that Miranda wouldn't let me kiss her. And I obviously couldn't touch her. Not now. Not yet.

So we stayed like this through the night. Darkening outside, and in here, with only the TV lighting us. I remained here just like this, guarding and holding her, until she fell asleep eventually. Trusting me like this. Showing that she truly wasn't afraid of me anymore. And deep down, helping me feel like less of a monster for what I had done to my exes.

Such a novel feeling, so soothing:

For the most part, I was so used to _giving_ in relationships. Giving, giving, and giving, and never feeling sure if my self-sacrificing well had ever filled up again. Or if it had, there would somehow be too much resentment clogging the spring, bogging me down. Drawing me to anger. Drawing me to indifference, to check out from the relationship and to leave—usually in the most drastic way possible.

With Miranda, I finally saw something different. In trusting me the way she did—after everything—I felt her replenishing this spring without trying. Nourishing me. I'd never had this feeling before. I almost had. Sort of. Not quite close enough. Not at all like the way it was now, with her.

Miranda had been _ready_ for me all these years. And I'd had no idea.

I made up my mind, then, to make up for lost time.

* * *

The next day, I left the apartment under the guise of going shopping for groceries or whatever else.

I had planned on doing that, yes.

I even got it out of the way first, just to have something to show for my time away from the house. But it wasn't my main objective.

Tomorrow was Valentine's Day.

I planned on making it special for Miranda…without going overboard this soon.

Driving my car to the store I had in mind, I felt my doubts about to get the better of me. Even with the soothing rainfall pouring down through the town, I couldn't really sit still in my seat. Blurry glares from the headlights and brake lights from the rest of the cars out on the highway: they beamed through the chilly, gloomy afternoon, with the cement-gray of the clouds looming over the decent traffic around. With my car's heater on, I felt cozy enough in my black N7 hoodie, my dark jeans and combat boots as rain boots. Though it said a lot that I didn't even have any of my music on. It wouldn't have helped me.

I focused on the road as best as I could, past my windshield wipers working overtime to keep this rain from the glass. My mind kept wandering back to Miranda—to how unexpected all of this was. My hands couldn't stop shaking right now as I drove. Because I had no idea what would happen tomorrow:

I really couldn't know what Miranda would think of this. She'd made it pretty clear that she had never been in an actual relationship before. So this type of thing must have been meaningless to her. She even seemed oblivious as to the approaching day, not caring at all. She hadn't mentioned it. Not directly. Not in passing. Not to gripe about it, or to comment about her experiences or non-experiences with all this.

Needless to say, I saw this as a risk. Another risk. A different risk.

I risked turning Miranda off in case she genuinely didn't give a fuck.

Or I risked putting her in an awkward situation, where she felt obligated to react a certain way. Pretending as if she liked my gestures, when she felt the opposite. All while thinking I was such a sap for bothering in the first place.

I would've felt terrible about it…since this was the first time I felt myself _actually_ caring about this day, this gesture—because of Miranda, and only her. Because of how much she had started to consume my thoughts, all without trying. Simply from how exquisite she was.

There was a chance that she would enjoy this.

That I would surprise her.

That this would be special.

So I had decided to take the risk, hoping for the best.

My first stop was a local florist in Hillcrest, not too far from the downtown area.

The softly-colored, boutique-like shop was of course packed with last-minute gift-buyers. I could barely even smell the flowers in here, what with the grumpy, rained-on customers taking up almost all the space and energy in this place. I managed to skirt around them, having already prepared for this ahead of time. While everyone else settled on plain, regular old flowers that would die in a few weeks—at most—I had reserved the everlasting roses I wanted, not minding the price. These were much rarer and more expensive than the red and white ones I'd bought before. All because of the color I'd picked out.

I'd considered only getting a single rose. That wouldn't have been enough.

I settled on buying her a real bouquet of everlasting roses instead.

Not red, like everyone else. Like I'd bought before.

Not white, either. Again, like before.

This purposeful violet color, from how regal Miranda was to me. In my eyes, she was also the perfect blend of paragon virtuousness and renegade ruthlessness: blue and red mixed together. Violet, always.

I had a feeling that Miranda was _very_ high-maintenance. Thinking about it now while I collected her flowers, I felt myself smiling over the idea, over the obvious. I actually…liked this about her. I loved that Miranda was so particular and discerning in her tastes. This gave me extra motivation to please her; to more-than-satisfy her. The place I had in mind to take her out for dinner tomorrow evening: it would definitely fit the bill. I hoped she would at least enjoy that, even if she wasn't into the gifts I gave her.

I could afford her.

I hoped that Miranda appreciated this, too.

My next stop was a wine store a few blocks away. Once again packed with last-minute customers shopping for their partners—I found my way around, again, to get what I'd requested ahead of time. In the spirit of trying something new, I settled on buying some red wine for us. Nothing _too_ new, since I planned on having us share this during dinner together. I found a bottle of Pinot Noir from the vineyards here in California. More earthy and dry than sweet. Taking a guess that Miranda would like this, I bought it for her, for us, again skipping the lines, getting in and out of the store and away from the madness.

Driving downtown across the highway, I made my way to the store I had in mind for chocolate. So far, Miranda's roses and wine sat in the passenger's seat at my side, acting as my companions. I had a full view of the Pacific Ocean stretching onward in a perfect blue, well past the rainy horizon of the towering cityscape. This gloom, this gray comforted me more, just from the contrast against the sleek sharpness of the silver buildings rising high through the sky. These sights gave me an added memory to hold on to: of my nerves, and of _why_ they still hadn't gone away.

After parking my car again, and putting on my hood to cover my hair again, I went into the next shop—the Godiva store for purely-crafted Belgian chocolate. Bright white interior and surfaces lit up almost like a perfume store or a café, this place was just as packed as the other shops, if not more. I picked up the sleek, decent-sized, golden gift box of milk chocolates that I'd once again reserved ahead of time.

But I lingered in the store for a bit, thinking.

This was supposed to be my last stop. Afterward, I'd planned on driving back home. Leaving the gifts in my car, for now, just to hide them. And then I'd find the courage to give everything to Miranda in the afternoon tomorrow, giving her plenty of time to get ready for our dinner date…if she accepted.

I spotted some of the other people around me, their gift bags. A lot of them had those typical teddy bears. Other stuffed animals. Cute things.

Would Miranda have wanted something…cute?

Not a bear. Not those predictable toys.

Just something else. Something meaningful. Hmm…

Pulling me out of my thoughts, that low rumble from my omni-tool went off:

_[16:49:15] Miranda: Shepard, where are you? Are you still shopping for the food you mentioned? You've been gone for quite a while. Far longer than every other time you've done this. I could have gone with you had I known you'd be this long._

_[16:52:03] Me: Sorry, I'm stuck in traffic. It's raining over here._

_[16:52:40] Miranda: Oh. Well, don't let me disturb you while you're driving. I was only curious._

_[16:53:30] Me: You can just say you miss me._

_[16:57:10] Miranda: I'll see you when you get back._

Laughing over her obvious giveaway, I left the store, making up my mind:

I would go ahead and get this last surprise for Miranda, taking the chance. Taking the risk. Along with something else for myself, to signify this change in my life, in my perspective.

With this change, I felt myself hoping for the best. Hoping in a way that I hadn't done in a long, long time, if ever. Not with this type of purity. Not with this clear-eyed focus from finally knowing who I was, from existing as my own person. For the first time in my life, I could stand on my own in the middle of the world with complete certainty. Even knowing of the challenges ahead—with the mission, with the rest of my growth, with Miranda—I was prepared to face them proudly, as myself. As the only one who could see with my eyes, feel with my heart, and think with my mind: mine and only mine.

Not _alone_ anymore.


	29. The Middle of the World

_"The Middle of the World" from Moonlight_

**XXIX.** The Middle of the World

_(Miranda)_

Comforted in the cozy warmth of Shepard's bed, my nerves accosted me as I awaited her return.

Sitting up against her pillows, still comforted in the reveal of my tight nightdress, I stayed underneath the linen of her sheets, and the soft weight of her comforter. Lights off throughout the apartment in the night, and in the bedroom, only the large television screen hanging from the ceiling lit the area. Golden hues and tones of brown as the sun permeating her bedding, her colors covered my legs that I couldn't quite keep still. Fidgeting and fidgeting, pulling at my freshly-manicured hands, I stared at the television instead of watching it. I had spent an absurd amount of time on my manicure, earlier, to pass the time. To pass this excruciating time with Shepard away and on the road, shopping. Cuticles trimmed, nails rounded around my fingertips as mirrors, and a simple, clear sheen of polish that shined from the misting gold in here. Perfectly clean. Obsessively so, hiding away the obsessions in my thoughts at the time. Yet those thoughts had nested in my mind once more, stronger now, now that I could only wait.

Watching-but-not-watching this final day of events for New York Fashion Week, I half-immersed myself in this ambiance of the ongoing rainstorm outside. Rumbling thunder and flashes of lightning searing through the darkened skies, the rain should have soothed me. But it was precisely the rain that caused me such distress.

And Shepard's unusual lateness.

She had _never_ taken this long before when going out to fetch whatever she had in mind to stock the kitchen with. I also knew for a fact that she was aware of all the secret roads and shortcuts to avoid the worst of San Diego's awful traffic. Even in the rain.

What in the world was taking her so long?

Re-reading our brief chat exchange from around 5:00pm, I fidgeted more. Resisting the urge to message her again. Hating that I hadn't come out and admitted that I did actually miss her. Quite a lot. But I felt so foolish over it. More so as I took note of the time—nearly 7:20pm. I couldn't help imagining the worst. This stubborn downpour from the rain at night muddied my imagination. I trusted Shepard's driving abilities, but I didn't trust other people. I kept thinking that some idiotic driver had crashed into her. Or that she was in fact stuck in traffic, and I wouldn't see her again for hours and hours.

I couldn't keep sitting here, thinking of the worst.

I needed to focus on something else.

And I decided: if Shepard wasn't back in ten minutes, by 7:30pm, then I would…just message her again.

Because that was all I could do. I had already dissolved the band of Cerberus agents that had tried their best to shadow Shepard whenever she was at home. I'd stopped looking—or trying to look—into her communications with others. I'd ended all of those associated activities. I couldn't continue with them anymore. Now that I had sworn my total honesty to Shepard, giving her anything less would have felt like a betrayal. So I simply had to deal with these unknowns. Waiting and waiting. Out of my control.

Not having eyes on her at every minute of every hour of every day…I felt blind all over again.

Glancing around Shepard's bedroom, I noticed a new detail. One that seemed quite out of the ordinary.

Emerging from her bed, I ambled over to one of the windowsills. This same windowsill where I'd noticed something similar over the years, whenever I'd visited. There had been a picture frame here, face-down. Not wanting to be rude or nosey, I had never chosen to investigate the frame. To see what the picture was, and to possibly discover for myself why it had been face-down. But now it was right-side up again.

Seeing the photograph for myself…I understood why it had been face-down before.

And I assumed the worst as to why it was now right-side up…

Shepard and Liara together. On the Presidium. Smiling at one another in an easy fondness and care.

I looked around the bedroom again. That other photograph of Shepard and Ashley together, on the nightstand closest to the door—it was no longer there. Shepard had hidden that one away. But not this one. Not this one of her and Liara. All over again, my assumptions grew worse and worse, as pure chaos.

Taking this frame in my hands, I couldn't help this mist of emotions blurring my eyesight. What only felt like yesterday—I remembered seeing so much of myself in Liara, in studying her. Researching her, before we'd actually spoken together. I had felt eternally drawn to her patience and understanding. How devoted she had been to Shepard, even in the shadows. Unnoticed. Forgotten and left behind in some sense, yet Liara had never once allowed her love to waver. She had placed Shepard's well-being above her own to such extremes. Enough to scheme, to nearly kill, and to make another being suffer the way she had.

In many ways, I had idealized Liara's self-sacrificing style of love. I'd used it to find solace in my own scheming, in my own shadowing. I'd set Liara's manner of romantic tragedy as a guide to follow. All to help me accept my decisions, my choices. And to ease me into the now-defunct reality that Shepard would never notice me, or care for me, or want me in any way whatsoever. I would have gladly continued with my self-sacrifices in romance, and in tragedy, wishing Liara the best in her relationship with Shepard. I would have been eager to simply have Liara as my friend… Filling yet another void.

The praxis of Liara's love for Shepard—how she practiced and applied her feelings—I had wanted to learn more of it, through her friendship. But it had been a foolish wish, as was always the case for me.

The only real friend I'd ever had in my life was dead.

Two decades ago, before I'd joined Cerberus, he had chosen to sacrifice himself for me. To protect me.

Since then, every other friend I'd tried to have, they had also died. Liara and Ashley. Both of them.

The other people in my life had only been my acquaintances. My coworkers. My clients. My enemies.

The Illusive Man was…my mentor. My very enigmatic, father-like mentor who inspired the best in me. Usually.

Shepard was entirely different. She was…so much more than I was used to. She was everything to me.

As my one and only, even though I wasn't hers, my paranoia about her came back up again. About her dying, _again._ As if she would die, all because her life was now out of my hands. Out of my control.

And so was her heart.

Moonlight hidden behind the harsh black of the night's clouds, again. Once again, Shepard's favorite type of weather had obscured her hometown. Once more, I stood here in the blend of golden mist and the sight of San Diego's cityscape, wondering where I fit in the world. Wondering where I fit in Shepard's world, now that she had invited me to stay with her in this way. Now that I had earned my place by her side, serving as her second-in-command as I had longed for. Now that I had this photograph in my hands, paranoid all over again that I would never truly have Shepard's heart here in my hold. Worrying that her truest affections would be forever out of my reach, as if she longed for this woman instead. This wonderful, brilliant, _patient_ woman whom I felt as if I could never live up to, even though she was dead.

Pure serendipity:

As soon as I began to worry in earnest about Liara, about Shepard possibly still being _in love_ with her…

That soothing voice sounded from the VI, in the living room—"Welcome home, Commander Shepard."

Out of respect for Liara and Shepard both, I set their picture back on the windowsill. Still staring at it, gazing at the photo as the lightning flashed outside, I waited. Waiting, while I listened to Shepard in the kitchen, setting away her shopping that had taken forever. Judging by how quickly she finished putting everything away, she hadn't purchased all that much.

Regardless, most of my anxieties had left me by now. Leaving my body with my breaths. Leaving more as I listened to Shepard pottering around in there, glad that she was all right. Though I breathed some of this unease right back in as the storm grew worse beyond the windows. Raindrops battering against the glass, I couldn't even hear the nearby television anymore. So Shepard had returned home just in time.

She also made her way to the bedroom right on time.

I couldn't hear her footsteps, muffled by her socks along the smooth wooden floor of the hallway.

I merely saw Shepard's reflection through the glass. Her echoed beauty lit up and exposed by the bright golden lights shining in from the city's buildings in this view. Her black N7 hoodie, her hair flowing down her front, and her purposeful stare, with her night vision finding my eyes through our reflection.

This all felt familiar. But not quite the same as last time.

Footsteps muffled more by the clean carpet in the bedroom, Shepard approached me.

Coming closer to me.

Finding me in the comfort and vulnerability of my nightdress, not at all meant to entice her for sex.

Shepard stopped only a few paces behind me. This whole time, she had kept her eyes to mine. Not once allowing her sight to wander over my body. Yet I almost wanted her to be more forward in her desires, needing to see that she found me attractive. That of course went against my other needs, for her to go at my pace. We couldn't rush this…though I still longed to know that she actually _liked me_ first.

She could've at least given me a hug, after having kept me waiting for so long. As a start.

Considerate in her tone, Shepard spoke to me, "My clothes are still a little damp. From the rain."

"I can see that, yes," I replied, noticing that dark dampness through our reflection.

"Do you want me to hold you anyway?"

Still staring at this picture, I breathed out more of my worries, my anxieties.

Stepping closer to me, Shepard did as I wanted.

Dampness of her clothes dissolving in the warmth of her care, she held me around my waist, so much like she had done before. This time, with me wearing so much less, she made me feel this difference. Slight wetness of her hoodie pressed against my back; of her jeans pressed against the backs of my thighs, my legs; and the soft cotton of her socks just near my bare skin. Shepard welcomed me farther into her hold. She stood tall behind me, the side of her jaw pressed just near the top of my head. Such a disadvantage without my usual heels, though I found myself enjoying this difference between us. All from this added protectiveness I hadn't expected to want, to need, to bask in as I leaned back, into her.

Quiet breaths, with her nose above my hearing.

Quieter contemplations, with the delicacy of her perfectly-thick lips just along my ear, nearer.

I saw Shepard staring down at that picture.

I felt her sensing me, reading me. Learning me, knowing me through this rain, this thunder and lightning.

But first, she apologized, "I'm sorry I kept you waiting, Miranda. Didn't mean to take that long."

"I know you didn't," I forgave. "You're home now. You're safe. That's what matters most to me."

As an answer to my worries, my anxieties, this lightning surged between us. So much like when she had welcomed me to the team properly, shaking my hand. That exact feeling permeated us both. Surging more, permeating more: all from the way Shepard held me in her confidence. How she knew enough of my concerns, of my worries, of what I fretted about. Especially since she had found me here. Right here.

Letting me go for now, for the right reason—Shepard picked up the picture frame with her and Liara.

As the next answer to my anxieties, Shepard then left the room. I followed her. Following her down the hall, I stopped in the living room. But Shepard continued on, through to the guest room. From here, I stood and watched as she set the photograph in there. On the desk, by her terminal and her textbooks in that neat stack. Disappearing into the guest room, more, Shepard rummaged around for something in there. Something in the drawers from the dresser, by those opening and closing sounds of shifting wood.

Shepard returned soon after, carrying a pillow from the bed, and a snug-looking violet blanket. She reached me here by the couch, with such a gentle smile. Setting the pillow near the arm of the couch, and placing the blanket down, she appreciated this surprise about me.

"We'll have a talk," she decided. "After I take a shower. For now, why don't you get settled here?"

I smiled at her. "You're very sweet, you know."

I liked that she actually smiled more, instead of trying to hide it.

While I sat up against the pillow, facing the windows, Shepard returned to the kitchen. I settled beneath the soft, slightly-weighted warmth of this blanket, comforted more as I lay over the couch. Pleased here, insulated here, I listened as Shepard prepared some tea, filling the kettle with water and heating it on the stove. As she waited the relatively short time for the water to finish boiling, Shepard simply stayed in the kitchen. She seemed to be ruminating about something in there. Thinking. Wondering. Deciding.

Not long after, the high-pitched whistling from the kettle interrupted her thoughts. I smiled to myself as Shepard grumbled over the fuss, the noise, adding to this sense of nostalgia I felt from everything. She quickly dealt with the issue, ending the whistle. I listened as Shepard poured the water into one of the special mugs she had bought for me. Just enough honey, just enough sweetness—she had quite the talent for knowing exactly how much I wanted. She'd even gotten it right for me the very first time.

Shepard returned to my side, carrying that Virgo mug in both of her hands. Surprising me in the best way possible, she knelt down as she offered me my tea. Kneeling with such purpose. Such heat steamed from my face; I almost couldn't believe my eyes. More heat steaming up from the lemon scent in her hold, this look in Shepard's eyes spoke such volumes. All of the ways she had grown to cherish me.

"Thank you, Shepard," I accepted, taking the tea with both hands as well. "You're incredibly thoughtful."

Standing with her thoughtfulness, Shepard leaned down to me this time.

She rested her lips along the top of my heated forehead. Cherishing me more, she placed her hand along the back of my head. Savoring me. Learning me in this way, with her palm so perfectly rounded over me, over my hair. And I loved that Shepard lingered here, thinking more; continuing on with her thoughts from the kitchen. I loved curling up here beneath this blanket, with this warm lemon and honey scent drifting up to my nose in an easy relaxation. I loved that she made me feel this special, so unexpected.

Shepard's deep voice reverberated through me. "We'll talk more when I get out the shower."

"Of course," I replied. "I'll be right here."

"Did you want the TV on?"

I shook my head beneath her lips, her breaths over my hair. I enjoyed watching the rain like this.

"Then I'll be back soon."

Once Shepard returned to her room, this thunderstorm kept me company. I sipped my tea in peace, savoring this flavor and care and heat warming my core. Though I felt myself growing more worried about the severity of this storm. The winds had started howling, racing the trajectory of the raindrops off to a steep angle over the windows. Violet lighting of the clouds holding the lightning—the city's many skyscrapers beyond seemed like rods close to conducting too much attention.

So, some twenty minutes later, when the lightning flashed hardest, I wasn't surprised:

Flickering lights from the city, dimming and fizzing out—everything soon faded to a full blackout.

Somewhere in the bedroom, I heard Shepard cursing over the inconvenience.

I simply smiled to myself, finishing the last of my tea.

The violet of the clouds kept enough light through the windows, here in the apartment. So we weren't in complete pitch-darkness. Since the lights had already been off anyway, I didn't notice much of a difference. Aside from the entire city in my view having gone dark like this.

When Shepard returned in her tank top and sweatpants, looking quite grumpy, I found myself amused.

She didn't say anything at first. Too busy with her task: finding a few scented candles to set nearby, and lighting them. One on the long table with her old sniper rifles, and another along the counter separating the kitchen from the living room. As soon as she lit them, the sweet, sultry chocolate scent reached my nose, blanketing me all over again. This glow from the candlelight added a gentleness to the room. One that I thoroughly enjoyed—especially once Shepard returned to me, her skin alight in that soft glow.

Noticing that I'd finished my tea, she retrieved my cup, setting it on the nearby coffee table.

Shepard then sat down on the couch. Right next to where I had my legs curled up beneath the blanket. Facing her as I faced the windows, the rain, I adored getting to see her like this. As light as they were in color already, her eyes seemed even lighter somehow—heated from the candles, from the flavor of her thoughts that continued to run through her mind.

Oddly meek and unassuming, Shepard regarded me in her thoughts.

Then she said, "I'm guessing there's something you wanna ask me."

I had many questions. Especially about what was on her mind.

Yet I settled on the obvious, "Are you still _in love_ with her? With either of them?"

Shepard gave me her honesty: "No, I'm not actively in love with them. Not anymore."

I both appreciated and feared her answer, her honesty.

"I get it," she noticed. "You're worried that it could happen with you, with us. This is different."

I wondered, "How so?"

"After everything I went through with them…it _would_ make sense for me to keep holding on. To brood and pine after them. To beat myself up over my mistakes. _If only…_ But I don't have that luxury, Miranda. I trusted them, and they kept secrets from me. They lied to me by omission. They never trusted me in the ways I thought they did. So I can't keep holding on. Not when the rest of the team feels as strongly as they do about this. I have to set the example. If they see me moping around, then that'd cause too many doubts. Too many issues. I had to protect them. I had to protect you. It's as simple as that."

Glad for her leadership, I could accept this without necessarily worrying in my selfish way.

"You will always love them, though. Somewhere. Somehow."

Shepard couldn't deny that. "Yeah. I will. Again, it's just not an active thing. I have to look forward."

"What else helped you decide this?" I asked.

"I remembered an important lesson one of them taught me."

"Which is?"

"That I need to stop running away," shared Shepard, in earnest. "Stop running from my feelings."

How fascinating. "So your decision to move on…this isn't about you burying how you truly feel?"

Shepard promised, "I'm not burying anything. I finally feel like my own person. Like I can live for myself. I don't think I've ever had this kind of clarity before. I actually feel grounded. For once in my life, the earth is right beneath my feet. I shouldn't let it go to waste."

"Yes, I have noticed that about you lately. You seem to have grown into your own. As yourself, with your identity. I'm not entirely certain if you're now free from anyone influencing your personality. It could be the case that you are yourself _because_ of those types of reasons. We'll have to wait and see."

"That's true—we'll see, then," she said, smiling a bit. "Is there something else you're curious about?"

Since she was so willing to be honest with me, there was one thing in particular that I wished to know.

I used my finger to beckon her closer.

Eyes growing wide, Shepard did as I pleased. She closed the distance separating us—mostly. As much as I would allow. Too much of a risk as it was, I didn't allow her anywhere in between my legs. Instead, I kept my legs together, arching them around the side of her body. Still hidden beneath the blanket. With her knuckles pressed firmly at either side of me, supporting her weight, she could stay close like this.

Close enough for the natural flex of her bare arms to entice me.

Close enough for her to press her navel along the backs of my thighs, as this barrier between us.

Not _too close,_ to keep her from kissing me just yet.

But close enough for me to smell this new, intoxicating body wash of hers, from her recent shower. Aromatic with the smell of wood, and so distinctly masculine, almost like cologne: Shepard saw the way my face and neck reddened from this surprise. Roguish, she smirked at me in an unintentional sexiness, only making me redden more. Needing a moment, I collected her cascading hair in my hands. Draping it back down her shoulders, down the white of her tank top.

Softly, she prompted me, "What is it?"

I whispered my concern, "Perhaps it's too soon to bring this up…"

"Miranda, don't worry about that. We're supposed to be honest with each other. Remember?"

"That depends on how honest you _truly_ want me to be…"

Shepard merely gave me a look, encouraging me to speak my mind.

Deciding to trust in her, I brought up, "We've gone over your initial feeling with me. When you first saw my smile when you woke up. But there's something more I want to know…" Even though Shepard regarded me in such patience _now,_ she hadn't before, at this point: "During that time after you woke up, when we spoke on Lazarus Station, and while we were on the shuttle—what did you think of me?"

A bit crestfallen, she didn't seem to want to answer my question.

That in itself told me all that I'd feared. Though I still wanted to know the rest.

"Shepard," I said, firm. "Speak your mind. Be honest. What was your _other_ first impression of me?"

Apprehension passed through her eyes, staggering as quickly as the bolts of lightning in the sky outside.

Sugary sweet in her innocence, candied as the scent of the chocolate candles lit around us: I saw the way she didn't want to offend me, or hurt me in any way.

Needing her truth more than I needed her sugarcoating, I waited.

Then, Shepard explained, "I could tell that you were stressed out about something. Knowing what I know now, you had every right to feel that way. I'd just met you, so I wasn't able to give you the benefit of the doubt. Especially once we had that disagreement about you being passive-aggressive with me. If not for my actual first impression of you, I would've thought that you were fake. And full of yourself."

"Go on," I requested, finding that this wasn't so bad after all.

Diplomatic as ever: "I wasn't in the best state of mind at the time."

I simpered over the obvious. "Yes, Shepard, I know. Now give me the rest."

"From the way you kept… _switching,_ I figured that you were a spy. I assumed you took advantage of Ash to get to me somehow. Like you wanted to fuck her over to get me to fuck you instead."

"Well, I would be lying if I said I never thought about it. I just didn't think that it was…feasible."

Something in Shepard's eyes darkened. That black sun, taking me in whole. Darker than this blackout.

"Why not?" she asked. "Why didn't you think it was feasible?"

"You were very much in love with her… It does still frighten me that you're able to set that aside. That you did it so quickly. That you did it at all. I wasn't sure if you ever would. Even if you did take an interest in me while she was around, I imagined I would have to compete with her. That was realistic to me."

"Then what did you _want_ to happen? Even if it was unrealistic. Unfeasible."

Enthralled by her, my focus distending and constricting around her, I opened my legs. Covered and blocked by the blanket between us, Shepard couldn't feel me completely. But even this was more than enough: pulling her into me as fully as I could. Watching the way her sight simmered in this heat of me, eternally respectful even in her growing wants. Growing and showing, I held her face in my hands, adoring her so with my touch. Clairvoyant, or simply attentive to details as always, Shepard seemed to appreciate this refinement about my hands, as if she knew of my manicure, my efforts. As if she knew of my own attention to detail, my obsession with it. As if she sighted my very own obsessions with her, and she wished to know and devour them, given all that I had tried to do to hide this from her.

I had her attention.

I had her burgeoning passions, her swelling fixations on me.

I had her admiration as much as she had access to take me here and now. After so long.

 _"This._ This is what I wanted, Shepard. What we're doing now. What you're finally giving me, right now."

Concentrating on this shape of my own focus, she noticed, "You've been through a lot, Miranda. Haven't you? And I don't just mean from the past couple of weeks since we met. You've been on your own. Dealing with everything yourself. Handling your own problems, alone. You work pretty hard at not letting people get close. Not in the same ways I do. You're a professional at this."

"That sounds about right," I shared. "Old habits. Paranoia. Not wanting to seem imperfect for once, even though I don't _feel_ perfect at all. Anything I have, I feel like I never earned it on my own."

Rather charming, Shepard raised her brow. "Not even me?"

I laughed a little. "You're not mine. Not yet. Or maybe you never will be. I don't know."

"I think you're only saying that to be reasonable."

"Mmm, yes. You don't want to see me when I'm unreasonable. Especially about this. With you."

"Well, since we're putting all our cards on the table," figured Shepard, "You might as well tell me why that is." She seemed to have something specific in mind when she asked: "Who are you at your worst?"

From her memories, so referential, I understood her intent in asking me this right here, right now.

Perhaps she didn't intend on following through on anything tonight. But the possibility was there.

"My absolute worst," I clarified. "Is that what you're asking? You want to know who that person is?"

"Yes, Miranda. That's what I'm asking. I'm going to meet this person eventually. I need a preview first."

"Shepard, you've already seen her. Almost. What I did to your ex. That was nearly it. In this case, the only difference would be…my reasons. My exact justifications. Had I set out to destroy her specifically to have you to myself, then that would've been it. If my main goal _was_ to steal your heart away…then that would be me at my absolute worst."

"You did say that you thought about it," she brought up.

"I did more than that… I used to fantasize about this. This very moment with us. A lot. All the time. It's the only thing that kept me going on some days. I felt monstrous. But still incredibly satisfied."

So much like before, Shepard saw right through me. Almost.

"You're the possessive type. Aren't you?"

Analyzing me with this sharpness about her, she couldn't quite see everything. I wouldn't allow it.

"Yes, that's true," I breathed out. "Though it's nothing you need to worry over. You'll discover what this means for me in due time."

Softly, softly, I continued speaking with Shepard throughout the rest of this blackout. Speaking to her in pleasure, finding her weight over me, between me, more than intoxicating. Holding her closer to me without doing anything more. Without letting her kiss me. Without letting her touch me any further.

My thoughts began to press at me, more and more urgently. Pressing, now that Shepard and I grew closer like this. Pressing more, now that we were on the precipice of a deeper connection. Pressing hardest now that I'd had this taste of her intimacy; now that my own insatiability had begun to form.

Possessiveness for her, wrapping and tightening and coiling around Shepard's psychology like a snake.

_Constricting._

But, for now, Shepard appeared entirely unaware of what went on beneath the surface. For now, she and I could enjoy these blossoming times between us. While I observed her for the time being.

* * *

After falling asleep at some point for the sake of it, I awoke sometime the next afternoon. Light rainfall drizzling outside, and power restored throughout the area, everything appeared as normal. I found that Shepard wasn't here on the couch, though she'd left the television on for me. Today was apparently the first day of London Fashion Week. Their iconic streetwear and government protests were on display just now. Victoria Beckham's current successor would be up for their runway show right after this one. Burberry was scheduled to be on sometime later this evening. I was of course looking forward to it.

Though I had admittedly lost track of the days. Rainy afternoons and evenings blurring into one, all I knew was that it was still February. I recognized that I'd desperately needed this break. Before Shepard had brought me home with her, I'd never really allowed myself any time to breathe. Not even when I would take time off during the project. Still focused on what to do next when I returned to work, even during my sanctioned breaks.

Not this time.

I folded the blanket and set it over the couch, with the pillow. As I did this, I smiled over the long night Shepard and I had spent talking together. That blackout had turned into a convenience for us.

Wandering into Shepard's bedroom, I discovered that she wasn't in here, either.

Had she left somewhere? _Again?_

Not wanting to seem overbearing, I decided to wait before sending her a message. I took a shower first in her bathroom, as allowed. Although, I hoped Shepard would do something about that broken mirror in the guest room. I remembered the first time I'd seen it. Knowing right away that Shepard herself had likely caused such destruction. Understanding how angry she used to be, years ago. Angry at the world, at everyone. So I had wondered, then, how things could have gone between us if I really had met her earlier in life. While she had still been that angry. If she would have taken her anger out on me, similarly.

I had wondered if I would have stayed regardless, trying to fix her. Trying…to love her anyway.

In my depravity, my desperation, I had decided then that I would have stayed.

Disordered thoughts of mine, coalescing back into my consciousness:

No regard for my own safety. Sacrificing myself for her. Unable to give up on her in any way whatsoever.

I set that aside for now as I finished with my shower. Using Shepard's holo-closet linked to mine, I put on a fresh set of clothes—or rather, another one of my nightdresses. Black again, and more or less the same design, as I enjoyed. While I was about to start with my skin and hair routines, I decided to send Shepard a message. I was surprised that she answered right away. So I continued writing back and forth to her in between my moisturizing and such, determined to get to the bottom of her strange behavior.

_[16:59:02] Me: Shepard, where are you? Did you leave the apartment again?_

_[16:59:30] Shepard: I'm in my car._

_[17:00:40] Me: What do you mean, you're in your car? You're in the underground parking lot, here in the building? Or are you out driving somewhere?_

_[17:02:04] Shepard: I'm in the parking lot in the building, yes. Sitting in my car._

_[17:02:29] Me: Why?_

_[17:05:10] Shepard: Making up my mind about something._

_[17:07:01] Me: Shepard, this is all incredibly vague. You could have left me a message about this. I don't like not knowing where you are. It stresses me out._

_[17:10:20] Shepard: Sorry, Miranda._

_[17:12:50] Me: I don't want an apology. I just want an explanation. What are you making up your mind about? And why did you need to leave to your car to do this?_

_[17:15:18] Shepard: I have something to give you. It's here in my car. I'm not sure if you'll like it._

_[17:17:02] Me: Something to give me? Do you mean…a gift?_

_[17:20:29] Shepard: Yes._

_[17:22:03] Me: Oh… That's kind of you. Thank you for thinking of me. But is this why you took so long to return home last night? You weren't really stuck in traffic. That was only a white lie, wasn't it?_

_[17:25:44] Shepard: Yes._

_[17:27:03] Me: Well, judging by the time you keep taking to respond, you must be nervous. Perhaps shy as well. As adorable as you are, you don't need to feel this way. It's only me._

_[17:31:10] Shepard: It's because it's you that I'm nervous. Like I said, I don't know if you'll like what I bought. I didn't get one thing. There's more than one gift._

_[17:32:01] Me: You'll never know until you show me. Unless you'd rather ask my opinion ahead of time._

_[17:34:20] Shepard: I don't want to ask. I've made up my mind. I'll give them to you._

_[17:34:58] Me: Mmm, you should. I'm certainly in no position to turn this down. I'm very curious._

_[17:36:22] Shepard: All right. I want you to wait for me in the living room. Sit on the couch, facing the windows. Away from the door. And close your eyes when I tell you to._

_[17:37:02] Me: As you wish. I'll be waiting for you._

_[17:38:20] Shepard: I'm on my way back now. I won't be long._

Dealing with this silly grin on my face, I returned to the living room. As instructed, I sat down on the couch. Sitting with my back to the door, against the armrest. Settling beneath the blanket again, legs crossed. I stared out the window during this brief wait. Noticing that the rain had stopped. Clouds thinning away to reveal the nearing sunset, the skies brightening in a blaze. Such immaculate timing.

More immaculate and impeccable than all, Shepard returned home. Her VI welcomed her as usual. Beneath the sounds of that artificial voice, I heard something shifting in Shepard's arms. As if she held a number of items. Absolutely more than one gift for me, then. Each one well-thought out, as I expected.

But why? What was the occasion?

Since Shepard was nervous, there had to be a _reason_ for these gifts. Otherwise, she wouldn't have taken this route in choosing to court me. Whatever this was about, it sounded as if it was out of her comfort zone. She wasn't in her element. Though that only made my heart swell all over again in excitement.

Nearing me here on the couch, she ordered, "Close your eyes now."

Grinning more, I did as I was told. "Yes, all right."

For added effect, I covered my eyes with my hands. Just to show her that I wasn't cheating.

Listening to her gifts shifting and shifting in her hold, it sounded as if Shepard walked around to the other side of the couch. Sitting opposite me. Facing me. And settling her presents behind her. Out of my view for when I opened my eyes once more. I listened more closely as she sat there. Gathering the last of her courage to do this. Then I heard even more shifting, like a gathering of items held together. Quite a few items, whatever they were. Rustling a bit as she brought them in front of her.

That remarkably rich, rosy smell…

"Open your eyes."

My hands that had been over my eyes: I placed them over my mouth instead, over my gasp of surprise.

Such a bountiful, boundless, beautiful bouquet of violet roses she held out to me.

Thorn-free stems held together at the base, by Shepard's hand as she offered me this gift from the bottom of her heart. Perfectly-curated in rarity, every single bloom of each petal smiled out in a sultry confidence, with purple as regality. Purple as violet, in that specific purpose that Shepard had no doubt picked up on. Violet as she saw me. As she liked me. Wanted me. The same shade of violet as this blanket covering my legs. The very same color as her video game controller sitting on the coffee table. And not just _any_ roses.

Everlasting.

Marked as such by the endless scent each flower gave off, as if freshly-cut from the garden. Brand new.

Accepting this gift, Shepard's thoughtfulness in my hands, I smelled this forever-aroma up close. Closer, bringing the heady weight of these roses to me, I fell in love with them more. The soft purity of the petals almost tickled my bare skin exposed by my nightdress. Rounding off this perfection, Shepard gazed at me in such a look of completeness. As if she found her one true purpose in pleasing me. Cherishing me. Making me feel this special, as only she could do. Finally validating all these years I'd spent longing for her, for this romance.

Completely speechless, all I could do was stare at her.

"It's Valentine's Day, Miranda. I wanted to surprise you."

_Valentine's Day…_

The one day of the year I had made great efforts to banish from my mind. Not wanting the reminders. Not wanting to experience the shame, the regret of my eternally single life. Not wanting any other reason to remember that I'd only ever connected with others through sex. Or by dominating them.

Magical in her own efforts, Shepard managed to wave away all those reasons for my selective memory.

All the shame, regret, and hurt, gone.

Replaced with her generosity, in offering a second gift to me:

Reaching behind her, Shepard presented me with a golden box filled with about a dozen Godiva chocolates. Belgian chocolates. Finely-crafted chocolates. The very same chocolates that I used to privately scorn whenever I would pass by the Godiva store in a mall or someplace else. The exact same that I would want and crave on my own…but only if someone gave them to me. As a gift. To admire me.

Setting the roses down over my lap, I accepted the box in my hands.

Feeling a bit less nervous now, Shepard asked me, "Do you like milk chocolate?"

Still quite unable to find my voice, I only nodded.

Handsome as ever, she smiled at me anyway. Not minding at all.

As she reached behind her back for a third time, I heard something unexpected. As if Shepard's short nails came into contact with glass. And then she procured a bottle. A glass bottle. A dark bottle of wine.

Red wine.

A bottle of Pinot Noir from here in California. One that had likely cost her a fair bit of credits.

But I thought…

Shepard noticed, "You already know I'm not a fan of red wine."

"Well…yes," I whispered. "If anything, I figured you'd have purchased your white wine instead."

"I get the feeling you like red wine more than white."

"Of course I do… I enjoy this one in particular as well. I'm surprised you knew."

So simple: "Then I'm willing to try something new with you, Miranda."

I laughed a little with that simplicity.

Still holding the wine, Shepard wished to know, "I was wondering…if we could drink this tonight. Not here at home." More than interested, I wanted her to continue on. "I know we haven't been able to go anywhere because of the rain. And because we needed time. Moving past everything that happened. Now that we're okay again, I'd like you to come out with me. On a date. To dinner. Just the two of us."

Adoring her directness, her candor, I replied, "I'm very impressed, Shepard. That doesn't happen often, if at all. You've truly blown me away with all of this. So my answer is yes. I'll join you. Absolutely."

"Impressing you is the bare minimum with me," she said, confident in her charms.

Brow raised in intrigue, I asked her, "Is it, now?"

"I don't do anything halfway."

Laughing in absolute delight, I couldn't help how much she'd captivated me. "Apparently not. Though I do appreciate that about you. It goes a long way, as I'm sure you know."

"I figured as much," replied Shepard, setting the wine on the coffee table. "I hope you're in the mood for seafood, then. Since we're in San Diego. It's only fitting." I smiled, letting her know that I _was_ in the mood. Yet I noticed some lingering hesitations about her. "Technically…I bought one more thing for you. It's what ended up taking me the longest last night. Driving around everywhere to find what I was looking for. But at the same time, I wasn't even sure if you'd like it. Doesn't seem like it's your thing."

"Well, if you really aren't sure," I said, "Then why don't you wait first? Try giving it to me later. Another time. There's no pressure. No rush. You'll probably feel more certain about it after a while longer."

"All right," she accepted, sounding relieved. "I'll save it for now. Maybe for a rainy day."

A little disappointed, I went with her decision. "Mmm, if you say so." Noticing that Shepard was still rather withdrawn, I reached over to her. "Come here. Let me thank you properly for the presents. You didn't have to go through all this trouble for me. You've made this day incredibly special nonetheless."

Reaching across the gorgeous flowers, and the box of chocolates, I pulled Shepard closer to me. Smelling of roses herself from sitting in her car earlier, I adored this feeling. The way she almost buried her face against my neck. Too shy to look at me. But bold enough to meet the swell of her lips to the slope of my neck, once, savoring; enough to rouse me all over. Trying not to react too much, I stifled the low sigh I let out, knowing what I could've done to her. Knowing what I could've inspired in her. Knowing the same, Shepard groaned, controlling herself. Chain reactions to one another, back and forth as they could have gone—I controlled myself just as much. Finding my admiration for her instead.

"Shepard," I made myself say. "Thank you for doing this. I'm not at all used to anyone treating me this way. It's standard fare for others to be too intimidated to even try what you've done. I'd grown quite cynical about this day. I'm sure you can imagine why. So I'm glad you were able to prove me wrong."

"And I'm glad I could make you happy," she shared. "Why don't you get dressed? You can use my room. I'll go in the guest room instead."

Pleased by her, I asked anyway, "You're positive about this?"

"Yes, Miranda. I am. Go ahead."

"Then I'd like some kind of idea of what I should wear. I don't want to be over or underdressed."

Shepard explained, "Wear whatever you're most comfortable in. You don't need to get dressed up or anything. Besides, no one will notice either way. It's more about the atmosphere than who's watching."

Beyond curious now, I questioned, "What do you mean, no one will notice? That sounds rather cryptic."

She smiled against me, satisfying. "You'll see."

* * *

While getting dressed for the evening, I couldn't stop smiling. Perpetually. Brightly. Even sprightly.

Almost, almost.

But it was enough to signal a true change in me. Not that I'd start smiling _all_ the time. When thinking about Shepard, yes. When wanting her, yes. When putting on my clothes in her bedroom, since she was such a gentleman, allowing me in here while she took the guest room—yes, absolutely. I actually caught my thoughts ahead of time: of how I wanted to throw myself so completely into this new situation. Not rushing anything. Not changing my stances. Simply living in the moment for once in my life. Showing Shepard that I trusted her as much as I did. As much as I believed in her. As much as I…felt for her.

Making these sacrifices worth it.

Wearing what I was comfortable in—a normal blouse, normal, fitting pants, and normal heeled boots. Black and white. More of my midnight-scented perfume, which was not particularly normal. Trying to draw Shepard's senses to me, even more, without letting her touch me yet. Only to tease. But the rest was simple. Very simple. Very…normal. All the while, I had to keep tampering down on my hormones. My emotions wouldn't agree. My feelings kept me in this euphoric state, as much as I controlled my outward expression. Smiling only. Only smiling. Trying to remain in control. Trying to restrain myself.

Restraining even more, I kept my collar on. To tease Shepard's mind instead. Making her fantasize about me. Submitting to her while she submitted to me, to please me, as I wanted in mental superiority. Controlling her from underneath her body. Making sure she knew I wanted her to own me. Possess me.

Recalling this much, I remembered to send someone an email. An old acquaintance. A previous client of mine.

Getting his confirmation.

Deciding for myself that I wanted to be as transparent as possible with Shepard about this. About my past. About the situation I was involved in before, and how that bridged throughout the rest of my life since then. I wanted and needed to tell her everything. Everything and anything I could think of. She hadn't even gotten me in her car yet to drive us to the restaurant, but I already wanted to do this:

_To: Taylor, Jacob – Permission._

_Jacob,_

_It's almost that time._

_You and I had an agreement about confidentiality. Your exception with Commander Shepard. Would you still like me to share the details with her? Or have you changed your mind? I need to know._

_Respond in a timely manner. Or soon, rather. Not at your earliest convenience. You're on my time again._

_-Miranda_

.

_From: Taylor, Jacob – Re: Permission._

_Miranda,_

_Already? That was quick!_

_You sure do put in work. Then again, I'm not surprised. I bet the commander took one look at you and saw what's what. I told you. You should've listened to me instead of stressing out all the time. I'm telling you again now—she wants the prize. She was always going to want the prize. And she's going to want it even more once you're honest with her. I want to take some credit for helping you two get together._

_So yeah, go ahead and tell Shepard whatever you want. Show her, too. I got nothing to hide. No regrets._

_You gave me some of the best times of my life, Ma'am. This is the least I can do to repay the favor._

_-Jacob_

.

Glad that that was sorted, I gave myself one last look-over in the mirror:

Makeup touched-up. Lashes perfectly fanned. A bit more perfume for added effect and allure. And ensuring that my hair was perfect—not a strand out of place.

All exactly how I needed it to be.

All enough to continue helping me look in-control even though I was the complete opposite on the inside. Even walking past Shepard's bed to leave the room, I almost wished that we could have skipped all this and gotten straight to it. But I had to keep reminding myself that everything would've failed if I allowed that. So I left her bedroom, exiting down the hallway, to escape that possible failure from me giving into her just like that. Heels clicking along this hard floor, I knew that this was the best path for us.

I needed Shepard to do as I wanted. I wanted her to give me what I needed.

And I had to be responsible with my power as we went about this.

_No repeats of the past._

Ridiculously punctual, I heard the flatter, heavier, dulled clicks of Shepard's more masculine leather boots along the floor; the faint chiming from the zippers up her ankles. Heavier chiming from something else about her, on her person. Lighter brushing of her long, long hair behind her, swaying along the back of her shirt as she walked. Leaving the guest room. Meeting me halfway here in the living room. Her full presence and her concentrated stare, both alight in the sunset glow filtering in through the windows.

All-black in her presentation, I adored the military-sharp creases over her long, button-down shirt: along her sleeves; along her trousers. Shirt tucked in as expected, the silver of her belt buckle made a subtle statement. Standing out along her pocket was a pure power play. Quicksilver from a chain looped there—matching her buckle—hanging from her pocket to one of her belt loops.

Shepard's gaze remained fixated on my collar. Twisting the power dynamic between us all over again…

Smooth as ever, she reached me and leaned down, murmuring in my ear, "You're beautiful, Miranda. I love the way you put yourself together."

Blushing profusely from her tenor, her nearness, her crisp cologne, I murmured back, "Thank you…"

Lingering in her romance, she kissed one side of this red of me, reddening me more, almost maddening.

Shepard held my hand, interlacing her fingers through mine, over mine.

For the first time—without any gloves or such in our way. Purity of her skin over me, warming and heating in how well she fit me; how well I fit her. Locking, like the very bones of her thin, limber touch aligned with my own, with the tip of her thumb simply admiring the smoothness of my manicure.

Linked to Shepard like this, linked to her momentum, I was all too ready to follow her lead. Letting her lead me out the apartment, and down the elevator. Down to the underground parking lot, to her car.

Eternally fulfilling, Shepard made a point of walking me to the passenger's side door. Automatic, she opened the door for me. Holding my hand up, she let me in first, guiding me in her manners. Making certain that I was completely settled in the seat, she then closed the door for me. Watching Shepard walk around to the driver's side, I basked in this smell of roses that had overtaken the leather seats, the slightly-chilled interior. She really had hidden my gifts in here to keep me from spotting them too soon.

Smiling to myself, I wondered what that last present was supposed to be. The one she was so shy about.

Watching Shepard start her car, the lights of her console shining through the dark, I realized how much I'd longed for this. How much I had yearned after this reality now, of her holding my hand anew as she drove through the city—her hometown. How long I'd spent wishing that I could be here like this, enjoying the novelty of Shepard picking out her own music—her sultry, creative, moody trip-hop and alternative R&B, chopped and screwed in loveliness, always—and playing it through her car's speakers, with the bass thundering through my limbs. Ever trying to put it all out of my mind: the ache had been real, no matter how realistic this may or may not have been to imagine, to hope for, or to dream of. I would of course attempt to write it off as frivolous nonsense. Impossible, improbable things that I shouldn't have wasted my time on at all.

Yet this view of the dusk settling through the windows, heating Shepard's already-intense aura, almost like a blazing halo:

I accepted that I had spent years attempting to downplay my desires. Softening the blow. Lessening the sting. Easing the ache and the yearning and the longing, to perhaps curtail them. Although, I had only incubated those feelings, at best. And now they began to heat back up in me, heating my heart and heating my skin twice as much, thrice as much as it all normally would have by this point. Staring out the window past the faint traffic around us in these skies, past the city's metropolitan sights looming well overhead, I felt so acutely aware of how I _felt._ At last, there was no escaping it. No more denying it.

As deeply as Shepard's taste in music reached through me, I knew how much I wanted her.

And I knew that I had to control myself—to some extent. To keep from overwhelming her too soon.

The last thing I needed was to turn her off like this…

Although, once I caught sight of our likely destination, I began to rethink my stance.

Glittering blues of the seas next to a harbor, filled with various yachts and steel ships next to the pier: at the center of it all awaited a single building. Rising up at a decent height, the place was nonetheless a seaside establishment, not too far-removed from the level rise of the water just nearby. Rows and rows of windows there, I could barely see inside to the restaurant itself, with numerous chairs and long tables covered with pure white cloth. Though I wasn't able to see much more, since Shepard drove her car directly to the building's roof. Parking her car here, even while the actual lot nearby remained filled to the brim. She seemed to ignore all of that completely, finding this special permission for us instead.

As she parked, I spotted a fine sign nearby— _Top of the Market._ No doubt the name of the restaurant.

Turning her car off, Shepard waited a moment.

Stroking my hand with the outline of her nail, tantalizing, she regarded me.

Acutely aware of my quickened pulse, I instead stared out to the embers of the horizon, breathtaking.

"Miranda," she said, her baritone easing through our silence. "Just so you know, I've always wanted to bring someone here. Specifically for a first date. I was never able to before. Somehow, it didn't feel right."

I curled back my smile. "And it feels right with me, does it?"

Shepard lowered her lips to the back of my hand, warming me. "Yes, it does. With you, it really does."

"Then what makes me different, I wonder?"

"You're my biggest weakness. That's what."

Intrigued, I gave her a sidelong glance. "Oh? What _is_ this weakness of yours, then?"

"I sense everything you're holding back," revealed Shepard, throwing me off. "But it's okay. I can't blame you for how reserved you are." Keeping her lips along my hand this time, she breathed there in thoughtfulness, choosing her words carefully: "It's the shape of your possessiveness. How shameless you are. How you can't help yourself—and yet you still need to be fair with me. I have a feeling you're going to challenge me in ways I won't expect. On top of that, you are incredibly gorgeous, intelligent, and ambitious. You know exactly what you want—and you see it in me. So I want to show you what I'm about. No strings attached."

As Shepard exited the car, walking around to my side, I felt the impact of her words.

And of how much she truly didn't expect anything from me. No angle, no long-term plan behind her kindness, her gestures, her gifts or this date for that matter. _No strings attached,_ just as she had said.

Shepard didn't open my door for me like this for a _reason._

She didn't help me out of my seat with some ulterior motive in mind.

She didn't walk with me down these steps to the restaurant's rooftop entrance for some other reason.

She hadn't chosen to take me out on this date, expecting sex by the end of the night.

Shepard entered this building with me, allowing me through the door first…just to be chivalrous. Explicitly to show me what she was about. To set the bar, to set the standard—already surpassing what I had come to expect from any other of my so-called suitors before her. Embarrassing, lingering traumas and terrible experiences from my father, above all—of how there had always been some hook, some angle, some strings attached whenever he would shower me with gifts, largely to keep me under his control.

Beyond my father, even, I had always felt this way. With the Illusive Man. With acquaintances, clients.

For the first time in my life, I didn't see any of this through that old, traumatizing lens.

Wiping the fog clean, more, Shepard took me by complete surprise all over again…when I saw that we were the only people in this entire building. The smooth, clean décor of the restaurant, with the slick wooden surfaces from the bar, and the endless illumination from the bottles of alcohol gleaming in the sunset. White upon white elsewhere, I had the distinct sense of walking through an actual yacht, of how clean and exacting everything was, yet still able to breathe from the open windows everywhere.

Completely free to the sights of the sea stretching out, endlessly. Not another soul around us, anywhere.

Shepard had bought the place out, just for our date.

Just for the two of us.

And on _Valentine's Day,_ of all days!

Barely, I realized where Shepard had taken me. Guiding me along with her hand over my lower back, she brought me to an area marked as the North Deck, for private dining. Even though we were already alone. Alone in solitude, in complete privacy, making a point of the magnitude of her gesture. Glass walls wrapping along the perimeter of the area, this location had an open air deck for us. Such a spectacular view of the impossibly blue San Diego Bay, of the long, impressive steel of the _USS Midway_ along the harbor, right next door to us. All softened in this glow, this lighting of the approaching night.

Our table faced out to that glass, that blue, and that glow, perfectly encapsulating the ardor of this city.

Hanging from the other walls were a few TV screens, already turned on, with the sound remaining on mute: London Fashion Week once more, in between sets, with Burberry scheduled to appear quite soon.

Shepard had brought that bottle of wine for us as well, setting it over the table, next to the wine glasses.

"Do you like this place?" she wondered, pulling out my chair for me.

Sitting down at the white cloth, I told her the obvious, "Shepard, _of course_ I do… I love it. This is stunning! How could you think otherwise?"

Taking her own seat adjacent to me, she justified, "I try not to assume anything with you. That's how."

I let her see my smile this time. "You know, I think you've earned the right to make a few assumptions."

"A few, huh?" she charmed.

"Maybe even more than a few," I teased. "You've exceeded my expectations. Well above and beyond."

Shepard returned my smile. "I'll definitely keep that in mind."

"So, what's the story behind this place?" I had to ask. "Why did you want to bring someone _here_ for a first date, specifically? I can certainly see why you'd want to. But you know me. I'm curious about you."

Getting comfortable in her seat, she reminisced, "Back when I was out on the streets, I used to pass by this area with my friends. Sometimes we'd come by and watch the people eating in here. Wishing we could afford it. For me, it was never really about the money. I was more caught up with the meaning. Actually coming back here with someone, without any doubts. Without needing to worry. No real fears."

That did sound quite meaningful. "Hmm, a completely blank slate, then?"

"Not completely," amended Shepard. "I'm here with my past. With everything that brought me here."

"As am I…though I'm still surprised by this. There isn't a single doubt in your mind about me?"

Completely serious: "None."

"How not?" I doubted, worried. "Are you sure you aren't just—caught up in the moment with all this?"

Shepard opened the bottle of Pinot Noir for us, explaining, "Miranda, that's not my thing. I'm more likely to _resist_ a good possibility instead of accepting it right away. I did that already when we first met. I'm choosing not to resist anymore." Pouring that burgundy red into my glass first, and then hers, she continued on, "I think we've both spent enough time holding ourselves back. Aside from not rushing ahead, I'm perfectly fine going with the flow. I'm guessing it's not exactly the same on your end."

Taking my glass in-hand, I shared, "It would be nice to completely let go… I wish I could. I wish I wasn't at all concerned about how I come off, how I appear. Moving too quickly. Too slowly. For the most part, I seem to worry too much about every single detail. I appreciate that you're the opposite. Barring how much thought and effort you put into all of this. The gifts you gave me—and our date now. I see you."

The way she smiled this time, I saw the sentiment spread over her expression: of how she only wanted me to see her. How she only wished to be seen by me.

Surprised by her yet again, I took to sipping the wine. Such a wonderful earthy taste, leveled and layered in a measured dryness, at once direct and subtly sweet. So much like Shepard herself, influenced by me. So much like this look in her eyes as she kept mine to hers, sipping from her own glass. Mirrored through her irises was the show playing from across the earth, across the country, across the Atlantic to the United Kingdom, with my favorite designer's runway splayed across the television screens around us. Rooted and reliable, she truly did appear fixed on this new path with me. Immutable. Believable.

That wouldn't stop me from worrying. Obsessing. Fretting.

At least, not any time soon.

Shepard seemed to know this, to accept this. Not minding my worrying, my obsessing, or my fretting. Instead finding reasons to soothe me, to prove to me that all was well, and that all would continue to be well between us. Inviting me to lean on her relaxation, her certainty. As certain as she could be with me.

Knowing that I hadn't eaten anything all day, she still asked, "Are you hungry yet?"

"I am, yes," I replied. "Seafood is clearly on the menu. Yet something tells me you're having a salad."

"That something of yours is right," confirmed Shepard.

I had to laugh. "Of course you are. Never one to experiment—not even with your food. I know why."

"Well, I haven't actually been here before," she defended in good-humor. "I'm at a disadvantage. Even more of a reason for me to stick to what I know."

"Considering your recent revelations with me, don't you think it's rather hypocritical?"

Shepard smirked at me. "Not everything is symbolic, you know."

"Even so, I want you to pretend. At least for tonight. It's your turn to step out of your comfort zone."

"Okay then, I'll try something different," she conceded, bringing the kiosk over. "Any suggestions?"

"Get us both the same thing," I directed. "Whatever you think I'll like. Show me. Surprise me."

Browsing through the selection, Shepard didn't take long at all to find something.

"I think you'll like the salmon," she decided. "Icelandic salmon. It's not too heavy. And it'll go with the wine. If you're in the mood for dessert later, we can have that, too."

"You chose well," I agreed.

Shepard placed the orders for us—and in seconds, the center of the table opened, revealing the plates there, cradling the fine, succulent cuts of salmon that she'd so described. She brought my plate over first, before reaching for her own. Not willing to let too much silence pass between us, Shepard also noticed that I had my eye on the television, watching the ongoing runway.

"You know," she said, "I'm still thinking about what you mentioned, with New York. That mystery you left behind about your time in college there."

Smiling, buying some time—delectable as this dinner was, rich in herbs and very light, as described.

Knowing what I was up to, Shepard merely watched me with a clued-in smile of her own.

I fully intended on telling her everything tonight. Mostly everything. There was a time and place for the rest.

"Well, what about you?" I suggested. "I find it interesting that you have your degree in criminal justice. Not that I'm _surprised._ It only makes sense, given your background."

"More like putting that GI Bill to use," noted Shepard. "I wouldn't say it was anything special. No real story behind the choice. It fits with my background, like you said." She gave me a moment longer. Taking her time to eat, and studying me. Studying me with such thoughtfulness; I felt safe enough to divulge the rest to her. "So, are you going to tell me which degree you went after?"

Expecting to shock her, I revealed, "I have my undergraduate degree in music." More than relaxed now, I laughed in delight once Shepard's eyes widened at me. "Paid for out of pocket, after I joined Cerberus. Specifically the violin. Classical. Think the adagio movement of Nielsen's Fifth—that's my style."

Shepard knew. "You went to Julliard, didn't you? In New York City."

I smiled more. "Perhaps I did."

"Of course you did," she reasoned. "It's the best of the best for artists. You're the best at whatever you set your mind to. I'm pretty impressed."

"Why, thank you. Though I should emphasize that it was more of a…passion project. My father had allowed me to learn how to play the violin. As an outlet. Even still, I knew that I wasn't the best _artist,_ so to speak. My professors were always quick to point out that I was often too stilted in my form. I didn't know how to let go—I was _too_ prepared, all the time. But I earned my degree in the end, even if I never went anywhere with it."

Shepard asked, "You didn't plan on playing professionally?"

"I considered it," I told her. "I honestly did. Maybe in an orchestra. Carnegie Hall was always a big standout for me in the city, since I would've loved to play there someday. When I was younger, it used to be a dream. My life didn't end up going in that direction. Looking back on things now, I accept that I'm better at appreciating art than creating it myself. That includes fashion. Even your video games."

Nodding in her own appreciation, she then gave me my first test with our trust: "I take it you have your master's degree, too?"

"Yes, I do," I affirmed.

Shepard noticed my sore spot, yet she followed up regardless, "Tell me more."

"I pursued a double major in medical science and biology."

The single question I'd never allowed anyone to ask me: "Why'd you go from music to medical studies?"

Sipping my wine, buying a little bit more time, before trusting in her. "I…had a scare once. A possible medical scare, where it looked like I might have been sterile. Not because I had _tried_ or anything. Far from it. This was something that came up one day. But it was only that—a scare. One powerful enough to push me into medical sciences and biology. This eventually led me to heading the Lazarus Project."

I understood that Shepard had had some variant of this conversation before. Learning that whichever woman in front of her had thought about these things. Wanted these things. Making this clear. Even when Shepard herself had never spent much time thinking about it. Not all that seriously. She and I both had our own private reasons against having children. I'd certainly had my own doubts, years ago, due to my upbringing… Yet that had all changed in an instant once I had discovered that I might not have had the ability. The chance. The opportunity, even. And so my whole perspective had shifted accordingly.

Something in Shepard's eyes told me that this conversation, this instance felt new to her.

Different.

She didn't regard me with the same directness from moments before.

She didn't remain in silence as a way to simply give me a moment to breathe.

Instead, I sensed her own introspection. Shepard seemed to absorb this information in a way she perhaps hadn't expected. With her own changes in outlook, in perspective these days, I wondered exactly what went on in her head. As much as I wanted to know, she had every right not to tell me.

So I went on, undeterred, "It's rather silly. All of this came up when I'd seriously started thinking about having that type of future. With someone. I had a matching name picked out and everything. I was nearly devastated. Until the good news came. And then I stopped feeling guilty for what I wanted. Sort of. I went into my graduate years with that positive energy. I found myself enjoying my classes far more than at Julliard. My professors and my peers actually appreciated me. I'd say it worked out quite well."

Shepard's gentle speechlessness gave me such an unexpected comfort.

She didn't know what to say, for once. And I adored her for it.

I loved that she didn't need me to _specify_ what I meant.

Leading the conversation now, I brought up, "You know, Shepard. I may feel comfortable enough telling you these things. Though that doesn't mean I expect you to reciprocate. I really do need us to take our time with this. I meant what I told you before. About not letting this crash and burn. I don't want that."

Still so tender: "Then what do you want?"

I gazed out to the water past the glass walls, out to the horizon.

In this transition from sunset to sunless night, the sky had shifted to the same blue of the sea, as one continuance of the world. Separated only by the city's lights gleaming along the divider, along the horizon, those reflections along the water's surface extended out in endlessness, brightening. Brightening almost as much as the actual lights shining above this table I sat at with Shepard, with her full attention on me.

This look in her eyes…

She had made me the middle of her world, plainly.

"Shepard, I want _you,"_ I stated, basking in this afterglow about her. "I want to be with you, long-term. In due time. When it's right. We can't do that if we rush into anything."

She wished to know, "What do you define as 'rushing'? Just sex?"

"More or less…"

"Then tell me what else works best for you. What you'll allow."

"Spending this type of time together," I supplied. "I would be lying if I said I didn't want you to kiss me. Especially after you've pulled out all the stops like this. And maybe…dating, if that's what we're doing now. Not an official relationship."

Languid in her latitude, Shepard agreed, "I'd say this does count as dating."

I had to bring this up, "Really? And what about Tali'Zorah? I know you like her, Shepard. Don't deny it."

Sighing, she admitted, "Yeah, but…I'm also keeping a huge secret from her."

"Oh… About your involvement," I recalled. "Right."

"I get that I'm a huge hypocrite," she anguished. "I took such a hard stance against someone lying to me, to the rest of the team. And now I can't even be completely honest with them. Tali's been through so much. Knowing what I did…I could never be in a relationship with her. It wouldn't feel right. Either way, I'm going to have to tell her eventually."

"And once you tell her the truth—do you believe she'll hate you?"

Shepard lowered her head, looking sadder than I ever could've imagined.

That told me all I needed to know.

"In that case," I went on, "I don't mind the two of you being close. I understand that she is your special princess, Shepard. I'm more than all right with you treating her that way." Subdued, Shepard hummed her acknowledgment. "As far as relationships are concerned, I'm not nearly as flexible. I won't be shared. If you're going to court me, then I expect you to follow through and commit, or to let me down gently. I don't care if other women are after you. As infinitely attractive as you are, that simply can't be helped. As long as _everyone_ knows that you're mine, the rest doesn't matter to me."

Nodding in acceptance, she of course didn't want to say anything else about this. Not while we were on our date.

Shepard made herself change the subject, "So, are you only attracted to women, then?"

"Only women, yes," I confirmed. "As I briefly mentioned to you already—I've never let anyone touch me. No romantic dates like this, or actual get-to-know-you discussions. Just straight to the point. I used to screen potentials, checking that their medical records were clean. Then we would meet at an unadorned apartment on the Citadel. One and done. Thank you and goodbye."

"Well, since you were the dominant one…what did you get out of it?"

"Stress release."

"From fucking attractive women."

Oddly pleased by her probing, I responded, "You understand that my work with Cerberus has always been highly-stressful. Being on a break like this would have been unheard of before. I never allowed myself this sort of time. To make up for things, I turned to sex. I would fuck the women with a strap-on and go. This was the only thing in my life that was simple. Uncomplicated. I needed that back then."

Probing more, pleasing me more: "You never did more than that?"

"If you're asking whether or not I went down on them, the answer is no. I'm too much of a neat-freak for that. I don't like it."

Shepard laughed. "Okay, I'll remember that."

"Mind you," I continued, "There were no emotions involved, either. No follow-up calls asking for seconds, or messy relationships. This was purely transactional. I only ever treated them like my clients. I've since stopped doing any of this altogether. I haven't done it for at least three years or so. Despite how _simple_ it was, this only ended up frustrating me more. The stress relief ended up not mattering."

"You were unsatisfied," she noticed.

"That's an understatement."

"Then why go down that road at all? I'm sure you predicted this ahead of time."

"Because it's what I'm used to," I explained. "I have a complicated history with this. With men, rather. Not just women. I hinted as much to your ex, before, while she and I were at the 94 together. I specifically chose not to tell her anything more. This would have disrupted my plans to continue lowering myself. The full truth would've dispelled that illusion."

Shepard puzzled, "With men? What do you mean?"

I pre-empted her thinking, "I've never been confused about my sexuality, Shepard. That isn't what I mean. It's more that I've had to use my assets in certain ways. Certain ways that haven't always made the most personal sense for me." Making up my mind, I prompted, "Do you remember what I told you, about the time before I joined Cerberus? I went through a situation. This is part of that. It's everything."

Perfectly patient: "I'm listening, Miranda. If you want to tell me more."

"When I escaped my father, I threw away everything he ever gave me. I had nothing. Hardly anyone to turn to. The only other person in my life was my best friend, Niket. He helped me. Provided me a place to stay, here on Earth. But he didn't have much, either. The area we lived in wasn't safe. I knew I could always contact the Illusive Man… I was stubborn. I wanted to try making it on my own first. I also felt like I owed it to Niket—to at least provide for him in some way. Instead of running off to join Cerberus."

At last, Shepard saw that we had _some_ experiences in common. "Then how'd you manage to get by?"

Trusting her more, I shared, "I was only seventeen years old at the time. I had to lie about my age when I took on…an apprenticeship. In the downtown area where Niket and I lived. It certainly paid the bills."

"What kind of apprenticeship?" she asked, brow raised.

"An apprenticeship at a local sex dungeon. To become a dominatrix."

Raising her eyebrows even more, Shepard drank the rest of her wine.

Rather self-conscious, I drank the rest of mine as well.

Ever respectful in her curiosity, Shepard signaled as much by refilling my glass—and then hers.

We had long-since finished eating our dinner. The wine remained as our bonding agent, for now.

Light-headed enough, Shepard wanted me to proceed.

"Then how did your apprenticeship turn out?"

"Suffice to say, I did very well during my training. I soon took on my own clients for quite a lot of money. I was able to save up whatever I needed. Enough to put myself through Julliard, alone. Though I was surprised by how easy it all was. Keeping my emotions out of it. That seemed to be the key, anyway."

"So I've heard. What was it like for you?"

I remembered: "I wore the typical, all-black getup you would expect from a dominatrix. The hard corset to contour my body. The tall thigh-high boots. Nothing cheap. I had the best equipment as well. My clients were people of all genders. I would negotiate the terms of our scenes beforehand, discussing limits and safe words and the rest. Then, when it was time, the client would already be in the room, ready and waiting for me. Again, no emotions. I would play the part of the ice queen Domme, giving them whatever they wanted. I sometimes found a sick pleasure from the age difference. No one could ever tell that I was only seventeen."

Perceptive as ever, Shepard mentioned, "I take it you liked this a lot more than your one-night stands later on?"

"Yes, I did," I replied. "I found my own catharsis in having control like this. Especially after suffering under my controlling father for all my life. It was straightforward. No attachments. Only kinks, fetishes."

"What kinds of kinks and fetishes are we talking about here?"

"It was very thorough. Standard whipping, flogging, and spanking was common enough. Dressing them up in full latex suits for sensory play with my biotics. Or using my biotics, again, for bondage and suspension instead. Or simply stepping on their backs with my heels. Fucking them with a strap-on; pegging them. Making them worship my boots. Cock and ball torture. Anything expressly physical or sensory, I've probably done it at some point. My clients also paid me more _because_ I'm a biotic. Human biotics are of course rare, as you know. That tingling sensation added a lot to the scene for those who were into it."

"Was there anything in particular you enjoyed the most?"

"Hmm… Any type of denial was my favorite. Orgasm denial. Chastity play. Making them beg for it. Work for it. Even for punishments. It wasn't so much a power trip as it was—reinforcement. I needed the validation that they couldn't get enough of me."

"So that's what you got out of it?" asked Shepard. "Aside from the stress relief. And the money."

"Yes, it was," I answered. "Though I only used plastic toys to fuck them. I would never use anything more realistic with my clients. Let's just say I knew I wouldn't be able to keep it up and perform. I didn't feel any actual arousal from doing this. It would've been especially awkward with the men as well."

"In that case, was there anything that surprised you about your clients?"

"Actually, yes. I was surprised by how most of my male clients were rather macho. I wasn't expecting that at first. There was more variety with the rest of my clients. You might remember that James Vega character we've both run into. Most of my male clients were like him. Down to the detail. Tough muscleheads one moment, but ready to drop to their knees and kiss my boots the next. Such submissive little boys who only acted hard to the outside world. But if they ever saw me on the street with another woman, that same client would probably view us as some sort of entertainment. It was all very typical."

Shepard did remember him; and she did understand exactly what I meant.

She also understood that I didn't quite want to divulge more about Niket at this time.

Eventually, I would. But even my hesitation to talk about it spoke enough. She knew what to assume.

Shepard chanced asking something else, "Do you still have this business of yours going?"

"Not anymore, no," I responded. "I did keep it going for a long while. I stopped last summer or so. Not long before my birthday. I only had one client throughout the Lazarus Project—up until this specific point, anyway. Again, to de-stress. He was also very specific in wanting you to know about this. He looks up to you—as Commander Shepard, of course. I suppose this particular thing is his badge of honor."

"Really? He _wants_ me to know the details?"

"He does. We signed off on it as part of our agreement. He was quite eager for you to know the details."

"But…why?" she questioned.

"My client picked up on too much about me. Mostly how I feel about you. I never said a word to him. Not to confirm anything. He seemed to know regardless. In fact, he was convinced that I could win you over in the end. So, he figured this information would help you and I bond together."

"Interesting."

Playing the perfect host, the perfect date, Shepard ordered some dessert for me.

Perhaps as a double-meaning, or a triple-meaning, she selected a slice of brown butter almond cake. After divulging so much to her, I certainly did have another sweet tooth. And I was glad that she was kind enough to indulge me.

She then requested, "If you two signed off on it, then I want to know more. How did this play out?"

"Well, I met him not long before the project started. His name was Jacob. Jacob Taylor. He used to be in the Alliance as part of their prestigious Corsair program. He contacted me through my usual channels for anyone seeking out my services. I've since disabled those now. I gathered from our initial discussion that he was frustrated with all the bureaucracy and red tape with his job. Naturally, he needed a release. Although, I truly didn't intend for us to remain involved for so long. That happened by accident. Maybe."

"Maybe?"

"I should explain first," I prefaced. "Jacob found plenty of release in letting go with me as a submissive. I suppose he even surprised himself. It's possible that I helped him deal with some sort of personal issues in his way, which was quite common. I never asked for any details about that. But after you died…that was when I cut off my dominatrix life. Or so I believed. It just—wasn't a good time for me, as I'm sure you can imagine. When I tried to break things off with Jacob, he wouldn't let it go. He went so far as to join Cerberus. He was miraculously assigned to the Lazarus Cell as our security chief on the station."

Shepard laughed a bit. "So you had to see Jacob at work every day anyway."

"Unfortunately, yes," I scoffed. "I couldn't really escape his advances. At first, I was annoyed with him for taking things this far. Though after a while, I knew that I also needed the release. The stress from the project had started getting to me, on top of my other deceptions and manipulations. And the rest. So I agreed to have that time with Jacob again, once per week. He wanted me to film our scenes."

"Did you film them?"

"Most of them. I still have copies. He offered for me to show you."

Shepard wasn't as shocked as I'd expected, having grown accustomed to all of this by now. So soon.

"I should mention," I added. "I never considered asking Jacob to join the team. He's a skilled biotic in his own right. But his name never found its way to those dossiers I gave you."

"Hmm, why not?"

"I didn't want that type of baggage following me around during the mission. It would've been unprofessional. Plus, I knew you probably wouldn't like him. He was very non-descript. Plain. _Normal._ There was no interpersonal benefit to bringing him on the team. Unlike the rest of the people that we could possibly recruit. It was mostly about the baggage, though. He would've made things awkward."

Grinning, Shepard imagined as much. "Yeah, I see what you mean."

"If you're interested…I can share those recordings with you. Later on. Not now, obviously."

Allowing as much, Shepard used her omni-tool to forward her personal email address to me.

"Send them whenever you want," she accepted. "I want to see what you got up to."

I had to make this clear: "Shepard, you should keep in mind…I've left that life behind me. I'm not looking for those same things with you. Anything that we might explore together, it would be purely mental and emotional. I don't need to explicitly _dominate_ you like that. It wouldn't work." Glancing at her quicksilver chain hanging, looping from her pocket, I stopped myself from shaking. "I've accepted that I want both with you. I never trusted anyone else with this. Or even the more emotional part of my dominant side. And even then, it's much too soon to get into the details. I only want you to think it over."

Shepard promised me, "I'll think it over. Don't worry about it. There's no rush."

Thinking already, she let us fall into a comfortable silence. Finishing her second glass of wine, giving me time to finish the last of my dessert, and my own wine: Shepard seemed to have a lot on her mind. Processing all that I had divulged to her. Using the information to form a better idea of who and what I was—as well as how she fit in my life.

She had to know that there was far more. So much more that I hadn't mentioned at all, or only hinted about, at best. I liked that I didn't need to explain it. She simply knew.

Blackened blues of the sea and the sky outside—night had already fallen, with the moon shining bright.

City lights crested between darkness, and the lighting in here grew brighter, as contrasts of contrasts.

Somehow, staring out at this view, the rest of my worries began to fall away.

Knowing for certain that Shepard accepted me, I could breathe easier. Not that I'd had any doubts before. Not since our situation had changed, morphing into what it was today. I'd never let myself imagine that everything could fall into place like this. I would always try to scale back my wants, or to set myself up for disappointment. Trying to tell myself that I was only delusional for needing this type of closeness with her. Trying to convince myself that I was pathetic for even imagining it in the first place. Overcorrecting. All to lessen the blow from those few days I'd spent, watching Shepard be with her ex in-person. All to make sure I could survive that ordeal, instead of allowing my jealousy and resentment to get the better of me. As it probably would have by now, if the two of them were still together.

I couldn't let myself believe that this was all meant to be.

That just seemed…a bit too morbid. Too cruel. Too dismissive of our recent history.

And yet, Shepard's ease with me only validated my thinking. My feelings. My wishes for more with her.

Noticing what was on my mind, she stood up.

She held her hand out to me, saying, "Let's go outside for a few minutes. It shouldn't be too cold yet."

Smiling, I placed my palm over hers.

Shepard helped me up, guiding me out to the nearby deck overlooking the view.

Clear skies. Moonlight glittering over the seas. Perfect temperature, as she'd predicted—not too cold yet at all. I leaned against Shepard's shoulder as we gazed out to this distance. I began to wonder if those tall, brooding buildings had defined more of her. More of her mind. More of her perception of this city, or really, about civilization as a whole. Those streets used to be all that Shepard knew. And now she was here with me, giving me this security I'd never allowed myself to hope for.

It certainly would have been nice if I'd approached her sooner.

If we could have had this earlier. Before. _First._

Being with Shepard like this now, I found my appreciation for the past. For our circumstances. She was with me because of her choices, just as I was. We were together like this today because of our decisions, our separate duties. Everything we had experienced before: it all defined our presence with one another today. Despite all that she had been through, she was still here with me. She was here with her choices, her decisions, and her experiences. All of which had crafted her into the woman she was now, with me.

I was the same, with her.

Unspoken, I felt Shepard's appreciation for what we shared; and for what we'd both endured, apart.

Turning to face me, she reinforced this feeling of mine. Staring up at her like this, adoring, I freely sensed what she sensed. Knowing what she knew. Seeing life through her eyes, and seeing me through her gaze, brightened now from the moon, and from the lighting filtering in from the restaurant.

"Miranda, I have to say…I don't think I've ever been caught off-guard like this."

"Mmm, and what could that possibly mean?"

Gentle as ever, Shepard held me around my waist, easing me closer.

"It means…you've given me something I wanted for a long time. I'm used to drawing people to me. On accident; on purpose. The rare times when it was the other way around, I knew that it was different. You've gone past that for me." Every word she gave me seemed closer and closer. So much closer as she leaned in, finding me completely malleable to her. "You need me so much…and you keep pulling me. Your energy keeps pulling me in. Drawing me, attracting me. Pushing to pull me. On your terms. What you demand. What you expect."

Breathing over my breaths, Shepard no doubt felt these vibrations. This near to me: how my heart could have thundered right through my chest.

She knew it as she said, "I want to take this higher with you. Higher, and deeper, all at once. Show me what you've been holding back all this time."

Completely unbalanced, skewed, and tilted: Shepard reached me, knowing of this imbalance between us.

Knowing, and finding me anyway, she let me taste her—this supple resolve of her lips, shaped as near-mirrors over mine. Wine lingering, I couldn't know where her pressing had reached, and continued to reach, as deeply as I kept pulling her in. Sharper than her own pushing, I felt myself consuming her. Stronger than her own leaning, I felt her staggering breaths perfuming me, all from her loss. From the way Shepard held me without holding me down, letting me grip her closer than close, nearer than near, practically inside of me already.

Inhaling her personality itself through her muffled surprise, every single one of my hesitations and concerns and worries and stresses and anxieties dissolved in the night.

Alight of her, full bright of her, I hinged myself on her, needing ever more after waiting and waiting for so long.

Feeling far more than her, I didn't care. _I didn't care._

Shepard had me.

Wanting me, desiring me, as off-balance as she was: she only broke away to breathe, out of breath.

Exhaling over me, smelling of me, Shepard stared at me in a muted shock.

Hazed by her, I felt the very colors of my eyes change. Misting as much as this city, intoxicated by her—she could have done anything to me, anything at all, and I would only need her more. Needing ever beyond this moment, she saw as much through my sight. And if not for her need to breathe, I would have kept going. Nonetheless, I enjoyed this sight of her near-sightlessness, so very thrown off by me.

"Miranda…"

Perfection in the way her husked voice nearly broke.

Immaculate presentation in the way her complexion reddened beneath my touch, warming my palms.

Such flawlessness in her face, her stature over me, and the moonlight highlighting her unbridled quality. Her preeminence. Her power over me in her powerlessness. Her superiority over me in her complete subservience, in not knowing how to react to this unevenness between us.

"You know, Shepard," I murmured, glad to make her breaths far more uneven. "When you give me something like that, I can't be held accountable for my reactions. You certainly can't, either. Though I wish you would say a bit more. You sound so beautiful…when you _don't_ know how to behave. For once."

"I'm not sure what you want me to say…"

"Tell me anything."

Averting her eyes.

So uncertain.

I smiled, enjoying this shape of shyness around her.

"If you won't speak," I allowed, "We shouldn't stay here. You've given me such a lovely evening—one I'll forever cherish. I want you to continue this further."

"Do you…want me to take you back home, then?"

"Yes, please. Thank you for taking me out, Shepard. You've changed me already."

Eager to please me, despite her daze, she had us leave the restaurant together.

She knew that there were limits. The same limits I'd already put in place. Yet I felt myself so close to disregarding those. Tossing them aside if it meant having more of her, and her having more of me. This drive home turned my needs into absolute cravings that I couldn't go without. I could hardly sit still—but I made myself do it, with Shepard holding my hand all the while.

After all, I found a new pastime in finding her, staring at her, gazing at her as she drove.

As she tried to focus on the road.

As she tried not to look back at me, well-aware of the intensity I'd found in my eyes.

Hyper-focused on her beauty as supreme, I couldn't look away from her. She had me completely captivated.

No longer overcorrecting.

* * *

Arriving back at Shepard's moonlit apartment, I began to wonder about how reserved she was. As if our roles, our moods and our situations had somehow reversed: she wouldn't say a word at all, let alone look at me. I could only guess that she'd expected us both to have certain reactions to our first kiss. And that our actual reactions ran contrary to what she had imagined. What she'd anticipated. What she had prepared for. Because of this, she chose to withdraw herself from me. At least emotionally.

So much for not running away from her feelings anymore.

Even so, she had yet to let go of my hand. She made a point of guiding me over to the couch. Having us sit together. In complete silence.

As we sat here, I focused on her. Studying the still-perfect creases along her sharp clothes. Enjoying the way her skin shined in the light of the moon. Following the deeper creases along her forehead, too busy staring at some imaginary object in a corner of the room. Studying this shape of her eyes, her expression: how she could not, would not look back at me. Possibly too afraid of what she might find.

"Shepard," I stated, squeezing her hand a bit. "Is something the matter?"

Face reddening anew in this pale lighting, she gave no response.

"If we're going to get anywhere, you'll need to use your words. I certainly can't read _your_ mind."

She blew out a breath through her nose—steaming hot—and still said nothing.

"How the tables have turned, hm?" I mused. "As fascinating as this is, Shepard, I won't allow it forever. You more than anyone should know how important it is to communicate." Of course she knew. But she somehow couldn't respond to me. "I'll change the subject for a moment. How much longer do you plan on us staying here? We still have our mission."

Swallowing her silence down, Shepard said to me, "Another week. I made an appointment with a contractor. To fix the mirror. They can't get here until next Thursday. We'll leave when they're done."

"Thursday it is, then. Are you ever going to tell me how and why you broke it in the first place?"

Hollow in remembrance: "I was frustrated."

"Frustrated with what, exactly?"

"A few years ago, before I swore off relationships for a while, I reached my breaking point. I had gone through a string of people falling in love with an idea of me. They only liked me when I was stoic and holding myself back. The minute I showed any real emotion, thinking I could trust them, they freaked out. If it wasn't that, then they judged me for shit that I was already ashamed of in the first place. One in particular, I had known her for years. I thought she knew me. I only shared what I did with her because I thought she would understand. I thought she could relate. Turns out I was wrong. I was frustrated with _myself_ for believing in something for once, just to have it all blow up in my face."

Noticing the reds along her eyes, I asked, "Was she afraid of you?"

"Probably," answered Shepard. "Her ego wouldn't let her admit it. So she looked down on me. I guess she was convinced she could find someone better. Less emotional. Someone who isn't crazy like I am. She felt entitled to have that, instead of trying to understand me. I wasn't worth the trouble anymore."

"How long did it take you to move on from her?"

She laughed a bit, replying, "Not long at all. As soon as I realized that she was a jackass, I let her go. I'd always had a feeling that she had fallen for some illusion, and she lied about it. That's what saved me."

I noticed, "I'm seeing a pattern here."

"Yeah, I know. I'm not angry like that anymore. I've moved on from everything. And the recent past."

"Then what's the problem now?" I wondered. "Tonight. With us. Why won't you look at me?"

Oddly believable, Shepard claimed, "There is no problem."

"If that's true, then why are you in this mood?"

"Because there _is_ no problem."

I was about to retort, saying that her words made no sense at all…

But then I stopped.

I thought it over.

Understandably, Shepard was used to problems. Reasons to hold herself back. Perhaps now, reasons to work through, to prove that she didn't have to run away from her feelings anymore. Senses, instincts to pick up on: anything to justify that this wasn't a good thing. Anything to convince herself that the past would only repeat itself. Anything to keep her from feeling too much for me too quickly, too soon. If this was in fact the case, then I could only wonder about the rest. What she wouldn't say to me, and why.

Going into this, I hadn't expected some tale of happily ever after.

Whatever this was, Shepard needed to work through it on her own.

So I told her, "Then you don't need to say anything more. We don't have to speak. Not about that, anyway. Since we still have some free time, I don't want to ruin it with unnecessary discussions. I'd much rather enjoy this final week with you. Unless you'd rather be alone." Shepard only shook her head. Even though she still, _still_ wouldn't meet my eyes, I couldn't mind too much. "Play one of your games for me. Show me. It doesn't have to be your usual one. Pick something else if you prefer. I don't mind."

Giving me what I wanted, Shepard reached over to the coffee table, retrieving her controller. She then set about picking a video game to show me—a story-heavy role-playing game instead. As a compromise, we stayed together in a wordless relaxation. I enjoyed watching her play and unwind. We stayed like this through the night, and across this next week of our remaining time at home.

I sensed Shepard going through the motions as she played through this story…but we really didn't need to discuss it at all.

Comforted enough, I found my own reasons not to start worrying again. Still entrenched in the feelings she had given me during our date, and from our kiss, I allowed them to hold me over. To reassure me that this was only the beginning—and yet I didn't need to doubt her at all. I didn't need to doubt myself at all, thinking that we were bound to mess this up somehow…if it would help me anticipate that grief, and to prepare for it. There was no need to anticipate, to grieve ahead of time, or to prepare for that.

And well beyond that, I fully expected this mission to challenge us. Dating her during a high-stakes operation did make me crazy. Risking myself in this way—for her—was all that I had ever wanted to do. I supposed I had prepared for this, in a way. This was all still new for her. I couldn't blame her in that case.

Whenever Shepard found her footing in this new place with me, I would be happy to keep her here.

This absolute heaven's dream she had inspired in me, deep in my heart: never could I settle for less without her. Eternally patient before her habits of chaos, I wanted nothing more than to be this for her.

I could only hope that she wouldn't run from me; that she wouldn't hurt me in the process.

But if she did, I would stay after her—I would take it, and take her right back, bringing her back to me, all over again, as many times as I had to. Indefinitely.


	30. Diseased

_"The Plague" from Assassin's Creed II_

**XXX.** Diseased

_(Miranda)_

Back on the _Normandy,_ back on the mission.

Back in my same room, sitting on my same bed—all with a metaphorical new coat of paint, effervescent.

New beginnings now at the beginning of March. Shepard and I had spent a bit more time getting caught up with work after returning from home. And now, this brand new morning, I had some time before our briefing on the next mission. Nearly arriving to Omega, I kept an eye on the window across from my bed. Only the endless expanse of the Terminus Systems shined in a speckled brightness through the dark.

Sitting on my bed in my uniform, having just showered, I basked in this novelty, this change. Slipping one of my still-fresh chocolates into my mouth, I admired this milk sweetness, this craft of taste. Gazing at my bouquet of violet roses I'd set on my nearby nightstand, I smiled over the luxury of this rosy scent, and of how the smell blended with this chocolate melted in my mouth. Remembering my Valentine's date with Shepard about a week ago, I smiled more in fondness, from her wonderful first impression. Falling into the memory of her kiss, her reaction, I fell back against my pillows, letting myself be enamored.

I wondered exactly what that final gift from Shepard was supposed to be.

The one she had been too shy to give to me just yet.

Since returning to the ship, Shepard had maintained that fascinating distance about her.

At this moment, however, she was still thoughtful enough to message me appropriately. As I wanted.

_[08:03:01] Shepard: How are you doing?_

_[08:04:20] Me: I'm doing well, thank you. Still in a quiet mood?_

_[08:05:32] Shepard: Yes._

_[08:06:04] Me: Hmm, is that all you're going to give? You're keeping me in suspense, you know._

_[08:08:01] Shepard: It's not something I can describe._

_[08:08:29] Me: Then why not act on it, whatever this is?_

_[08:09:14] Shepard: Not now._

_[08:09:59] Me: Of course not at this very moment. I mean in general. And if you won't do that, then at least give me a hint._

_[08:11:02] Shepard: It's about power._

_[08:11:16] Me: Yes, what about it?_

_[08:12:33] Shepard: I have next to no power with you. I don't know how to handle it._

_[08:13:10] Me: Why do you need it, hm?_

_[08:15:02] Shepard: I don't want to get into it._

_[08:15:29] Me: Then tell me what you want to do._

_[08:16:04] Shepard: I can't do that, Miranda._

_[08:16:40] Me: You're being awfully cagey. Do you plan on running away from me, then?_

_[08:17:11] Shepard: No, I wouldn't run from you. I'm done doing that. But there's something I want to ask you._

_[08:17:20] Me: Ask away, then._

_[08:17:59] Shepard: I was looking through the dossiers for our potential recruits on Omega. Professor Mordin Solus, Archangel, and Zaeed Massani. I noticed that you included one for me. Not a strict psychological profile. It reads more like a summary. Or a warning. What's this about?_

_[08:18:20] Me: Yes, that was meant for Ashley. To warn her. She still ignored it. I knew she would._

_[08:18:28] Shepard: It's incomplete._

_[08:18:35] Me: I know it is._

_[08:18:45] Shepard: Who else knows about this?_

_[08:19:03] Me: We had one person in charge of writing these. I purposely didn't give her all the information about you. About your psychological profile. I wanted to keep it to myself. Among Cerberus, no one else knows the whole truth. Only I do._

_[08:19:13] Shepard: So is that why you and I fit together? Is it a coincidence? Or are you using me?_

_[08:19:46] Me: I'm not using you, Shepard. I would never do that. In a way, this is a coincidence. It happened by chance. You and I both have similar troubles with forming meaningful attachments. And yet here we are today. I had always sensed this about you, about us together. Witnessing your mind for myself simply gave me the proof I needed._

_[08:20:00] Shepard: That makes sense. It worries me, too._

_[08:20:06] Me: Why does it worry you?_

_[08:20:24] Shepard: You're influencing me directly. You have a lot of power in the way you protect me._

_[08:20:39] Me: Well, I don't believe that I'm the only one influencing you. I'm the major source. I'm protecting you, certainly. Though I'm not the only one within your mind. On a psychological level._

_[08:20:54] Shepard: Then who else is it?_

_[08:21:04] Me: Shepard, don't be daft. It's obvious._

_[08:21:20] Shepard: …you mean Tali?_

_[08:21:26] Me: Yes, of course. She is there._

_[08:21:35] Shepard: How? When?! What the hell?_

_[08:21:42] Me: If you need me to spell this out, I will._

_[08:22:22] Shepard: No, I don't want you to do that… I get the psychology behind this. I guess it's just embarrassing, that's all._

_[08:22:29] Me: Do you trust me to hold this type of power?_

_[08:22:40] Shepard: I don't have a choice._

_[08:22:45] Me: That isn't helpful._

_[08:23:12] Shepard: Miranda, I don't fucking know. There's just something about you. It's like my mind was full of patches and gaps and holes, and you filled everything up. I'm not saying you fixed me. You fulfill me in a way that isn't only a romantic thing. It's fucked up. It's even more fucked up how much I want to please you, because of this feeling. With this feeling._

_[08:23:34] Me: Mmm, I don't think it's fucked up at all. This is between us. No one else has to know. As much as I fulfill you this way, it's a two-way street. I enjoy doing this for you. And I enjoy how and why you want to please me. Very much so. I'm not letting you go, no matter what someone else might think._

_[08:24:00] Shepard: Okay… Thanks. I'm not going anywhere, either._

_[08:24:09] Me: Even if you did try to run from me, I wouldn't let you. Have I made myself clear?_

_[08:24:25] Shepard: Yes, Miranda. You're perfectly clear._

_[08:24:40] Me: Good. How do you plan on moving forward, then? In the short-term._

_[08:25:02] Shepard: Focusing on the next mission._

_[08:25:29] Me: Could our conversation possibly get in the way of that?_

_[08:26:01] Shepard: We'll see. I should go. I need to handle something else before the briefing._

_[08:26:30] Me: Hold on a moment. If you insist on being evasive, then I want you to do something else._

_[08:27:00] Shepard: What is it?_

_[08:27:21] Me: You should create a private frequency for us. You don't have to call me yet. But I want this to be available. Do this, and then I'll let you get on your way._

_[08:27:43] Shepard: All right. I'll send you the request soon._

_[08:27:52] Me: Thank you, Shepard. I appreciate it._

I didn't have to wait very long to receive Shepard's request.

_Request: New Private Radio Frequency (Secure – Encryption Grade: Alliance-Standard)_

_Requester: Sol Shepard_

_Reason: Speaking in private when text isn't enough._

_Requirements: Just the two of us._

_Accept/Decline/Save for Later_

Naturally, I accepted right away.

While indulging in a bit more of my chocolate, I spent this remaining time wondering as to Shepard's distance. Half-worrying about it. Half-admiring this change about her.

She just seemed so subdued. Pensive. Contemplative.

I wanted her to believe that everything would be all right with me. That she didn't have to keep hiding anymore.

Maybe for once, I could believe that I didn't have to keep worrying.

Both of our habits felt as a sickness, spreading over us like a plague. Diseased. Lingering over us, within us as old habits, old wounds festering.

We simply had to move on together.

After a while, once it was time for the briefing, I left my room.

Leaving to the elevator and heading to the command deck, I felt my constant desire to smile. I suppressed it, not wanting any of the other crew to spot me, and possibly spreading rumors. They should have known better not to, but I didn't want to take any chances. Even so, I expected that there was nonetheless something about me that was less…severe. I would never change myself to suit others, yet I couldn't deny this unusual lightness about me. A lightness that I labored to hide as much as I could.

So very light, because Shepard felt powerless and out of her element with me. Of course, I had no idea as to how or why. Something of our kiss had started this in her. I had every intention of seeing more; getting to the bottom of this; finding her secrets as my answers, candied and alluring as ever.

Delectable as it was desirable, I could taste my enjoyment, lingering over my tongue like that chocolate.

Arriving to the comm room, I found Legion here already, standing near the center table.

"Greetings, Operator Lawson," it said, as I took my place on the other side, opposite.

"Hello, Legion," I replied.

Legion observed me for a moment.

Feeling observed indeed, I asked, "Is there something wrong?"

"We have noticed a change," it stated. "Your hardware—your facial expression—suggests continuity. We find familiarity with Operator Lawson from Project Lazarus. Yet we have discovered ways to detect the nuance behind an organic's appearance. We did not wish to offend by ignoring these layered variables."

I scoffed, "Then what are you saying?"

"Are you experiencing errors in your software?"

Blowing steam, I demanded to know, "Legion, what the hell is that supposed to mean?"

Legion shifted its head flaps, and changed its approach: "You are different."

That stopped me in my tracks.

If a synthetic—a geth, no less—could notice this about me, then it was possible my efforts were useless.

I kept trying anyway, staying quiet. Not wanting to discuss this.

In an odd respect for my silence, Legion said nothing more.

Not long afterward, Shepard entered the room.

Already in her stealth suit, hair tied back once more, that essential professionalism reigned over her aura, despite her personal situation. She walked around to the head of the table facing the door, walking behind Legion and not me. Not avoiding me, although:

As she took her place at the head of the table, with her influence, I felt her aura waning.

When Shepard met my eyes, she found the barely-masked focus of my regard of her. Hyper-focused. Welding straight through her stealth suit, her many defenses with the heat of my stare. Unabashed. Unashamed. Only restrained for formality's sake. Only contained because we were not alone, and Legion was no stranger to making us notice its notice like this.

I smiled at her anyway, bordering on a knowing smirk.

Shepard gave herself away by clutching down on her back teeth, sharp jaws of hers jutting outward.

She then looked away from me, beginning the briefing: "We're almost at Omega. It's a space station out here in the Terminus Systems. Mostly lawless, with bands of mercs in charge of the so-called government and mining economy with the surrounding asteroids. We're looking for three of our recruits. The main one is Mordin Solus, the salarian scientist. The problem is, there's an outbreak of a plague on the entire station. Seems the spread's gotten worse while we took our time off. We'll just have to deal with it."

I did worry that there might have been other consequences to us taking nearly a month off to rest.

But Shepard remained nonplussed, resolute. Had we rushed off to find Professor Solus, the two of us may have been unfocused and unprepared. It was only a shame that the rest of Omega had to suffer.

"Aria T'Loak is the de-facto leader of Omega and most of its gangs," continued Shepard. "She should know more about where the professor is. We'll need to find her and see what she knows. I'm sure she's dealing with a shitstorm right now because of the plague. And if Dr. Solus is working on a cure, it's in her best interest to tell us where he is."

EDI chimed in, "She is currently located at Afterlife, a nightclub serving as the designated quarantine zone for the plague. However, it appears that Aria T'Loak will not simply allow anyone in. Refugees are required to pay the club's cover charge both to enter, and to continue staying inside. Those who are unable to afford the fees have taken to remaining out in the streets, begging others for assistance."

I noted, "I can't imagine Omega's citizens are particularly happy about this. They're bound to turn against Aria soon enough. She won't have enough of her mercs for protection if they're also sick."

"I'm thinking the same," agreed Shepard. "So we need to resolve the situation before it gets any worse. EDI, do you have any information on the plague itself? Are we at risk?"

"Humans are immune," supplied EDI. "The plague uses harmful genetic mutations to destroy a victim's respiratory system. There are numerous conspiracy theories on Omega that humans are also responsible for the spread of the disease, given their immunities. I can confidently speculate that your immunity is no coincidence. Perhaps it is a purposeful experiment."

"Then since there won't be any trouble, the three of us can handle this together."

Legion volunteered the obvious information, "This platform is immune to organic disease."

Shepard stopped herself from smiling. "Yeah, I figured as much."

EDI added, "The veteran mercenary soldier Zaeed Massani is currently on Omega as well. He is willing to join the team in exchange for a large sum of credits from Cerberus, after defeating the Collectors. If you would like to recruit him, you can find him before reaching Afterlife."

"Thanks, EDI. Miranda, Legion, let's go gear up and head out."

Shepard followed Legion and me to the armory down the hall. I wasn't surprised to find that Legion had procured its own version of the Widow anti-materiel sniper rifle, choosing an assault rifle as its other specialty-in-arms. Simple pistol and submachine gun mix for me, as always—light and effective. And Shepard of course found her same Widow from before, folding it and holstering the gun over her back.

She paused, however, over the matter of her sidearm.

Not caring about the reminders, or maybe needing them anyway, she collected her same Razer pistol.

Once we were all ready, we left to the bridge together.

Though as we reached the airlock, Shepard shocked me with such a subtle move, overt in meaning:

She held my hand.

Not for the first time, clearly. But she did it in full-view of the crew at their stations, already doing their best not to ogle in our direction. And she did it just as Joker turned to look behind his shoulder, behind his seat. He found us with such a shrewd smirk upon his face. Such nerve—Joker actually lit up even more once I scowled at him, not caring at all that I found his staring to be rude. Even though he had every reason to stare, given Shepard's gesture. I wouldn't let him know that I sympathized. Not at all.

Joker sent us off, his words laced with a roguish glee, "Be careful, guys. Don't die out there."

Knowing, Shepard advised him, "You be careful, too, Joker."

"Heh. I hear ya, Commander. I'll be good—I promise!"

* * *

Passing through the docking cradle, we arrived at Omega proper, of the grit and grime of this space station somehow glimmering in darkness. The vague, yet pervasive beat of the club music at Afterlife had already reached us here. Metallic mauves and dull browns and blunted chromes of this space: the overhead pipes leaked and leaked, and the ventilation systems seemed halfway broken. Nearly blinding out the windows from this passageway, the view beyond the ship mesmerized me for a moment: that glinting, ethereal light out there past the mining stations. Such a beautiful sight marred by reality.

And this contrast, of walking past so many people—mostly batarians and turians—out in the streets. Most lying on the ground, helpless. Groaning and moaning in pain. Hardly able to breathe. Coughing in forced quiet or in bursts of fits. Crying out for someone to help them, save them from this agony.

Still holding my hand, Shepard guided me away from everyone. Legion followed close behind us as we reached the greater area of the promenade, just outside Afterlife. Here was where the majority of the plague's victim's had gathered, sprawled out over the filthy streets in packed droves. Most barely able to stand, they begged the club's human mercenary bouncers to let them in. Stone-faced and heavily-armed, the mercs wouldn't allow anyone inside without payment first.

I already felt dirty enough as it was, with this grime already seeping through to my skin—and then we found a human man who looked like a merc, kicking a batarian on the ground. I saw the muscled shape of his uncovered arm, his tattoos there before anything else; and his short, slicked cut of dark golden hair, standing out against the yellow and white plate of his armor. Terrorizing the batarian, he berated the sick person at his armored boots, demanding something or another in a hardened, accented voice.

The merc kicked the batarian one last time, hardest. "Fucking jackass. You think just because you're sick, that gives you a free pass? Not my fault you pissed off the wrong son of a bitch!"

Croaking out, unable to breathe—the batarian crumpled there on the ground, falling lifeless.

Shepard had us approach the mercenary. "You Zaeed Massani?"

Turning around, Zaeed's scarred face lengthened the pale blue luster of his injured eye, wrinkled and sunburned skin engorged around that single spot. Both of his eyes narrowed upon finding us, tempering only as his own recognition passed through.

"Yeah, I am," he confirmed, gruff and blunt. "You must be the great Commander Shepard. Heard a lot about you. Also heard we have a galaxy to save, taking out those Collectors."

"You sure about this? Not many mercs would take a suicide mission for the pay."

Zaeed justified, "Most mercs don't get an offer like the one Cerberus sent me. Your Illusive Man is paying me a lot of credits for this mission. Not the kind of thing I can turn down."

Shepard gestured to the now-dead batarian. "So is that what I have to expect from you?"

"That's just business," he insisted. "Batarian delinquent. Caused a huge mess for my client. Because of this goddamned plague, I didn't even charge my extra fees to bring the bastard back alive. What's done is done. So you can expect me to get the job done. No matter the cost. It's what I do."

"Then can I also expect you to follow my orders—no matter the cost? Because that _is_ the job."

Zaeed smirked. "If you weren't the bloody Savior of the Citadel, probably not. I watched the vids. I saw you in action. Pulled off a hell of a feat with what you did. You command a lot of respect in this galaxy. That's rare. Maybe you could even say I admire that. Safe to say I've got no problem following you."

Satisfied enough, Shepard offered her free hand to him. "Welcome to the team, Zaeed."

Wordless in surprise, Zaeed appeared taken aback. Like he wasn't used to such things.

Still, he made himself return the gesture. He shook Shepard's hand in a firm understanding, grunting out his thanks. He then looked between the two of us—Shepard and me—finding even more surprise, eyes softening a bit. For obvious reasons. Looking back and forth to our interlaced hands, to our faces, he seemed to sense something between us. Yet he chose not to mention any of it, staying quiet instead.

"Go ahead and get set up on the _Normandy._ We'll need you in the armory. I'm aware of your arrangement with the Illusive Man, for your contract. We can deal with it later, when we have time."

"Yeah, all right," accepted Zaeed, heading off. "I'll go make myself at home; find my way around your armory and get to work. I'll be locked and loaded next time you're ready to get some killing done."

Shepard had us continue on, reaching the nearing blare of the music just outside Afterlife.

Towering high above this scene of disease and despair, the club itself didn't seem to care about Omega's suffering. The tall display of a video played over the entrance, of an asari stripper dancing to entice, instead coming off as pure mockery. Even the synthy dance music was strangely tone deaf at a time like this, playing on with such an attitude of unconcern. Uncaring to all who couldn't afford the fees to remain within the quarantine zone. Caring only to entertain the privileged few on this space station who could stay safe, continuing to line Aria T'Loak's pockets for her own gain. Unless she was just too selfish and cowardly to get her hands dirty and deal with the problem herself. That was always a possibility.

As a repeat of that privilege, Aria's bouncers allowed us to enter Afterlife straightaway.

Deeper echoes of the music from inside: these sounds pulsed and thrummed all around. The entrance hall flamed in red from the digital screens along the side walls, blazing on for the empty couches we walked by. Aside from this unusual vacant feeling about the hall, everything else appeared normal enough. Even more so once we actually entered the main club, senses opening to the full music:

More flames raised along the perimeter of the area, more enticement from the asari dancers, and more unconcern from those populating the place. Looking around, I'd never felt such a sense of whiplash, going from one place to the next. If I hadn't seen all of those people suffering outside, I would have never guessed that there was anything wrong at all, compared to what went on in here. Aside from how packed the club was, there was really no indication whatsoever that Omega was in a crisis.

Business as usual, the dancers entertained Afterlife's guests, pole dancing along the center catwalk.

Humans, batarians, asari, turians, krogan, and salarians enjoyed themselves at the bar on the far side.

More mercs and bouncers patrolled the club, keeping an eye on everyone.

Various other people sat at the tables on this level, and the other slightly raised one, laughing and drinking together in pure ignorant bliss. They didn't even notice us walking past them.

Pulling me out of my thoughts, Shepard leaned closer to me, squeezing my hand to get my attention.

"Miranda," she said, fairly neutral.

Even so, this quiet edge about her had me wanting.

I replied, "Yes?"

"Earlier this morning, I took a closer look at the ship's facilities. One of the VR programs caught my eye."

Caught off-guard, I wondered why Shepard chose to bring this up all of a sudden. Especially here.

Feigning ignorance, I asked her, "Which one do you mean?"

She specified—"The one for after hours. Insomnia."

I stayed quiet.

Not wanting to answer her.

Unable to find the words to describe this.

I did plan on telling her. I wanted to tell her everything about it. Just…not now. Not until I was ready.

Getting the hint well enough, Shepard decided against prodding me further. She said nothing more.

Ascending the stairs in the back, we reached Aria's platform. Nearby, more people sat at their tables, completely absorbed in amusing conversations with one another. A few asari strippers remained in the area, using the walls to dance against. Unsurprised to learn that the great Aria T'Loak was an asari, I was more thrown by her batarian thugs stopping us, performing a scan. Apparently unbothered, Aria remained perched on her couch, sitting there in her outfit of white and black. Surrounded by her thugs, she observed us. Intrigued by Legion. Glossing over me—aside from noticing where my hand was.

Aria watched Shepard much more closely.

Long legs crossed one over the other, wrists folded over her lap, she waited for the scan to finish. Aside from twirling the tall black of her boots on occasion, Aria remained oddly still. Intensity of her narrow, sharpened eyes, and the violet of her skin aglow in this flamed lighting: something about Aria seemed to click beneath the surface, the cogs of her mind ticking on and on. Such a strange patience in her regard of Shepard, in her observations. Such a deliberate darkness behind those eyes. Unknown. Unreadable.

"They're clear," announced the thug, stepping aside.

Shepard stepped forward with me, asking out of formality, "You're Aria?"

Eyes perfectly trained on her target, Aria remained self-possessed: "I am. I know who you are. What you've accomplished. Let's do us both a favor and skip the introductions."

"I take it you have an explanation for what's going on here?"

Aria gestured to the couch, curved and cornered, adjacent to her. Black leather inviting.

Shepard guided me to sit first, before taking her seat next to me.

Manners, always, as I expected from her. And a slight show of protectiveness, with her sitting closer to Aria's side. Shielding me a bit from Aria's nearly-intrusive gaze, observing me now. Noticing the way Shepard treated me. Picking up on the reasons.

"So?" prompted Shepard, annoyed. "You're the Queen of Omega, aren't you? You and your mercs run everything around here. And yet there's a plague wiping out nearly everyone on this station. Are you taking care of the problem or not?"

"I'm dealing with it," claimed Aria.

"How? By sitting here on your throne while your citizens are out dying in the streets?"

Narrowing her eyes further, as an affront, Aria knew this was all she could do. She had no avenue, no right to take offense over Shepard's impatience with all this. Some amount of self-awareness kept her as composed as she was, appearing cool and in-control. Though I could only imagine how far Aria had to bend her ego to keep from snapping out of anger. She knew that her ass was on the line. She knew that it was only a matter of time until the citizens outside of this quarantine zone began to revolt. And so, as compromised as she was, all she could do was sit there with this humiliation, explaining in simplicity:

"I have someone working on a cure. A salarian doctor by the name of Mordin Solus. As far as I know, he's finished doing what I asked. The only problem is that he can't distribute the cure across the station. My people haven't been able to get in and help. Maybe you'd like to do something about that."

"Maybe I would," allowed Shepard, easing the edge off a bit. "Where is he, and why haven't your people been able to help him distribute the cure?"

Aria was kind enough to explain, "Mordin's running his own clinic down in the Gozu district, in the slums. As you can imagine, there's a street war currently going on there. The Blue Suns and the Blood Pack are fighting over territory. They're making a point to get rid of my people, since they know we're working with Mordin. The mercs don't want this plague to go away. In their eyes, it's good for business."

"Just how is something like this good for business? Only humans in the Blue Suns are immune. And the vorcha in the Blood Pack, I guess. Vorcha are immune to every disease. That leaves out everyone else."

"Don't be naïve," chastised Aria, defensive. "I know you have eyes. I don't have to spell out this situation to you. Anything that leaves me vulnerable is good for their business. And it's bad for mine."

Shepard scoffed. "You're worried the mercs will steal the cure, aren't you?"

"That would be one creative way to hold leverage over me, sure. Realistically, I doubt they would be that calculating. Though I do have reasons to be concerned. About someone smarter deciding to pay me a _visit_ instead. You and I both understand that it's only a matter of time. So, as you can see, there's a certain urgency to what's going on. I'd… _appreciate_ _it_ if you and your team took care of the problem."

"Damn right you'd appreciate it. That's the bare fucking minimum. You think I'm running a charity?"

Aria sneered. "I'd be in your debt."

"Fine, then," accepted Shepard. "We'll find Mordin and help him distribute the cure across the station. If any of those mercs get in our way, we'll take them out. You said he has a clinic in the Gozu district?"

"He does. Follow the fighting and I'm sure you'll find the clinic in no time."

"Understood. After I deal with this cure, there's someone else on Omega I need to find. Something tells me you'll have plenty of information to share. As a _small fraction_ of that debt you mentioned."

Masking her rage, Aria gave only sarcasm, "Something tells me I'll be all too happy to share it with you."

Shepard stood up with me. "Then I'll be back later on."

"And I'll be here—later on."

Leaving with Shepard and Legion, I couldn't escape this pervasive feeling. That Aria somehow watched us now, far past where her eyesight could technically allow. She had invested a great deal of trust in us, after all, given the urgency of the situation. If we failed, then her reign as Queen of Omega was over. So I wasn't surprised that this feeling followed us through to the residential district's entrance—and beyond.

* * *

Reaching the slums, such a heavy fog of despair weighed down the atmosphere. Abandoned streets compared to the piles and piles of plague-infected victims lying around near Afterlife. Piles replaced instead with groups of burning corpses all around. Bodies of the sick set on fire by the Blue Suns and Blood Pack mercs warring over territory: I could hear their gunshots in the far distance, as near-endless noise of anger and aggression.

That stench from the corpses…

Shepard had us move as far away as we could from that awfulness, convening for a plan of attack.

"Aria wasn't kidding about the street wars," she noted, glancing around. "This is a mess. I have a feeling it's only going to get worse as we go from here. Once it's time to help Mordin distribute that cure, we might have our work cut out for us. We'll need to play it by ear at that point. For now, we focus on getting to the clinic in one piece."

I brought up, "She did say to follow the fighting. Sounds like it will definitely get worse farther in."

Shepard pulled up her enemy radar. "Looks like it, too. There's a clear path to the clinic, anyway." She gave me her orders: "Miranda, I want you to take point. Head in whatever direction the mercs lead us in. Handle yourself in combat as you see fit. I trust your judgment."

"Understood, Commander," I replied, readying my submachine gun with incendiary ammo.

"Legion, hang back and snipe with me. We'll follow Miranda and cover her flanks from a distance."

"Order received," confirmed Legion, retrieving its Widow. "Setting ranged targeting priorities."

Shepard retrieved her own Widow. "Move out."

Pushing forward through this foul stench, around the piles of burning bodies, I led the way through the slums. Nearing that noise of fighting, I found the vorcha from the Blood Pack and the humans from the Blue Suns engaged in a firefight. Red of the vorcha's bloodlust rage as they rushed their enemies; blue and white from the humans' armor as they shot back with their guns, shouting insults at the vorcha and calling them 'vermin'—I approached them, quickly deciding on a course of action. Taking advantage of their warring would give us a clear advantage. I planned on exploiting this as much as possible.

Staying out of sight, I fired my weapon at the vorcha, clustered together in tight packs.

Flailing and burning alive, I gave them the same that they'd no doubt wrought on the plague victims.

Still hidden behind cover, I aimed my warp at the ones attempting to regenerate their health, violet biotics cutting off their attempts. All of them hissed and yelled, trying to find me. With the Blue Suns still shooting at them, they didn't yet notice me.

Just until I slammed my warp target to the ground. As an explosion of fire: the burst sparked and spread out across the clustered group. Igniting each of the vorcha one by one. Forcing them to panic, to scream. Screaming more, they suffered from my next slam, pure force setting off a biotic explosion this time. Echoes of noise and that force, ricocheting off the walls, everywhere. The vorcha went flying, their unit collapsing in no time.

The Blue Suns stopped in confusion. Not knowing what to do.

As they chanced peeking behind cover, a sniper's shot went off from behind me. Right between a merc's eyes, exploding their head. Shepard and Legion repeated this over and over. Powerful shots from their Widows sounding one after another, sometimes in sync, before the clacking sounds from their reloading. Cleaning up the Blue Suns with ease. So ridiculously precise—I couldn't tell exactly whose shots they were. Precision from a highly-trained organic, or a synthetic programmed to be that accurate.

We kept up this same routine as we progressed through to Mordin's clinic. My snipers would wait until I'd taken care of any crowds with my explosions, before picking off any strays in the distance. All as a wonderful illusion of me progressing alone, having my hidden help somewhere behind me. Whenever I wasn't particularly busy with explosions or shooting, I would boost the ballistics in Shepard's rifle as needed. Having this sense of cohesion and unity with her and Legion kept me focused well enough.

But for all of my focus, I couldn't help my mind wandering on occasion.

As much as I trusted Shepard to cover me—and she did so admirably, as did Legion—I kept wondering about her. She seemed subdued. Far more than she had been earlier, before we'd left the _Normandy._

I doubted this was a matter of her simply focusing on the mission.

And aside what we had discussed earlier in our chat room—as much as it fascinated me, fulfilled me—I knew that there was more going on with her.

Analyzing the smallest details about Shepard's silence behind me, I had to consider:

Her reaction to our first kiss the other week continued to stay on my mind.

She had said that there was nothing wrong. That she'd reacted the way she had _because_ there was nothing wrong. No conflict. Nothing to fret about. Nothing lacking or missing; nothing that left her disappointed or otherwise unsatisfied with me.

After everything she had gone through with her exes, I imagined that Shepard had forgotten what this was like. To genuinely not have anything to worry over. No drama. No reasons to believe that I wasn't good enough for her. No poor first impressions to otherwise cause her to think badly of me. Then again, I supposed she had never had this in the first place. Chaos had always been the default in her past. She had discarded maximum chaos not that long ago. Shepard had recently escaped an incredible amount of worrying and drama and mistrust and instability. She was much better off now and she knew it.

I had more than enough stability to offer her.

Not that unknown and that uncertainty she had grown far too accustomed to.

And I supposed Shepard had her reasons to fear this. Finally having the one thing she'd always said she needed. Not having to concern herself over any red flags with me…aside from my Cerberus affiliations.

Perhaps she didn't know how to handle any of this.

Perhaps all the troubles from the past had diseased her, making Shepard mistrust our clean slate.

I should have been the same as her. I should have had a similar sort of whiplash. But I truly enjoyed being this pillar for her. As long as I knew she relied on me like this, I could rely on her in the same ways.

After clearing another group of mercs, I found a sign pointing to the clinic. I pulled up my radio:

"Shepard, Legion—looks like we're close. There's a sign here for Mordin's clinic."

 _"Good to know,"_ replied Shepard. _"We'll catch up with you now."_

While I waited for them, I spotted something—or someone—out of the corner of my eye. Someone hanging from an overhead perch, keeping a close watch on me. Some hooded person. Ominously wearing all-black. Staring at me.

Without giving myself away, I tried to pick out more details about them.

From my periphery, all I could spot was the pale, pale tone of their skin. A turian's distinctive mandibles protruding from beneath their dark hood. Perhaps this was a woman. Female turian?

Her stare along the top of my head didn't feel malicious. Nothing like that.

Just observing me. But I still didn't like it. Not from some stranger, no matter her intentions.

Not long afterward, I heard the mechanical movements of Legion's limbs, approaching. Soundless, Shepard walked by its side, finding me here. She gestured for me to follow her this time: Shepard led the rest of the way to the clinic. She had likely spotted that turian woman by now. I wanted to be sure:

"Shepard," I said.

"I know, Miranda. It's okay. Don't worry."

I smiled over her perceptiveness. "Of course."

Shepard was gentle enough to place her hand along my lower back, before continuing forward.

Legion stayed with me as we followed after her, into the clinic.

That turian woman chose not to follow us in here.

We reached the darkened hallway of the reception area, with mechs standing guard behind the clinic's human employees. Even more mechs patrolled around the clinic proper, with the entire place aglow in a dimmed emergency-red. Such a heavy amount of security had likely forestalled the mercs' efforts to storm the place for any given reason. Whether it was to steal the cure—which Aria had said was unlikely—or to simply terrorize the patients here, the Blue Suns and the Blood Pack could have done a lot of damage in a place like this. Especially with so many of the sick sitting and lying about, in chairs or on medical beds out in the open. Such limited space, with more patients than clinic employees, and with the persistent background noises of someone coughing once, twice, or more in a fit of spasms.

Judging by this red lighting all around, the actual lights and power must have gone out.

Legion and I trailed after Shepard as she went down another hallway. Both sides along the wall, lined with beds, with more patients tossing and turning in pained agony. Or sitting in fetal positions, rocking themselves as they waited and waited. More mechs stood guard at the end of the hall, near one of the other rooms. From there, I heard the sounds of conversation:

Someone addressed Mordin directly—"Professor, we're running out of room. The entire clinic is filled to capacity. We won't be able to keep accepting new patients at this rate."

The rhythmic quickness of a salarian's reply—"Aware of problem. Scope of issue exceeding simulated outcomes. Can't distribute cure safely. New patients each day. Cases multiplying at exponential rate. Must do what we can. Must continue seeing new patients. Must treat plague as much as possible."

"But, Dr. Solus—"

"No, can't turn patients away. Direct dispersal of cure possible for thousands more with available resources. Unethical to deny assistance to new arrivals! Risk too much, fleeing homes through street wars to find clinic. Possible death to outside mercs terrible enough. Restricting access to plague cure unconscionable! Not an option. Not an option!"

As we reached the larger room filled with medical equipment, we found Mordin Solus himself treating one of his patients lying on the center bed. Backup generators chugged away to power all the equipment around, and with so few resources as it was.

Apparently undeterred, Mordin continued working, even as he kept talking to himself about keeping the clinic open. Dressed in a lightly-armored lab coat of white and red, his omni-tool remained aglow as he worked and talked, talked and worked, worked and talked and talked and talked. Scars over the orange tones of his face, and a broken horn atop his tall head, Mordin struck me as quite the unusual doctor. He seemed to work and talk faster than even most other salarians, the brilliance of his mind churning faster than his speech or hands could keep up with.

So much so that by the time Shepard approached him, Mordin did more than merely stop speaking.

"Professor Mordin Solus?" she said.

Shocked and aghast, Mordin's large, amphibian-like eyes widened and widened. Blinking rapidly, he looked to her, then to me, then to Legion, and then back to Shepard, all in quick succession. Rather disbelieving, he couldn't accept what was in front of his eyes. Thus he resorted to scanning Shepard with his omni-tool, needing confirmation…beyond simply asking her if she really was who he thought.

"Impossible," claimed Mordin. "Recognizable identity from vids, reports. Same appearance. Same voice. Same directness of tone and aversion to social interactions. Human excellence, Savior of Citadel? Death to unknown attack two years ago. Standing here before me now. Alive. Brought back. How?" Before Shepard could even get a word in, Mordin looked to me. He found the Cerberus logo on my uniform, and then came over to scan me next. "Heard news about Cerberus. Illusive Man, infinite resources. Methods to restore most revered Alliance soldier in galaxy? Or created clone for nefarious purposes. Mean to fool me? Fool others? But what for? Motives unknown. Convincing recreation of legendary human commander, down to verifiable scan. Aim to be convincing! Doubt reality, doubt motives, doubt true existence of clone! Too many doubts—too many doubts!" Again, before _I_ could defend myself, Mordin scanned Legion next. "Could this be…geth? Actual geth unit, in-tact, beyond geth space. Non-hostile. Heavily armed. Perhaps friendly. In league with humans, human organization. Synthetic ideas, used to assist with creation of clone—?"

Shepard growled out, "For the love of God, take a breath! I'm not a damned clone! I'm the real Commander Shepard, and I'm here to recruit you for a critical mission. If you'd let me talk ten minutes ago, you would've had your answers by now!"

Mordin backed away from her. "Mission? What mission? No. Clinic understaffed, crowded! Plague spreading too fast. Unable to disperse cure across station. Unexpected that Cerberus sent you."

"It's not that unexpected. The Collectors are kidnapping entire human populations. We're going to find out why and stop them."

"Collectors?" pondered Mordin. "Interesting. Plague hitting Omega is engineered. Collectors one of few groups with technology to design it. Our goals may be similar. But must stop plague first. Already have cure. Need to disperse it at environmental control center. Mercs guarding it. Unable to kill all of them."

"We've heard," noted Shepard. "Aria sent us here to deal with the problem."

"Complicated complications. Vorcha shut down environmental systems. Trying to kill everyone. Or make angry enough to start revolts against Aria; upset balance of power on Omega. Need to get power back on before district suffocates. Before citizens destroy Afterlife. Too many vorcha fighting Blue Suns near environmental systems. Impossible to get through. Mercs already killed my assistant Daniel. Daniel tried to negotiate, get cure to systems. Blood Pack killed him. Blue Suns and Blood Pack numbers too vast to take on as team of three. Would be suicide mission!"

Shepard didn't want to believe that. "How are you so sure we couldn't handle it?"

Mordin explained: "Wasn't always doctor. Some work with Salarian Special Tasks Group. Can handle myself, protect clinic from attacks. Able to gauge tactical probabilities. Scale of mercenary defense surrounding environmental plant unprecedented! All vorcha units from Blood Pack in Terminus Systems guarding area! Cannot advise frontal attack. Or even stealth attack."

"I'm an infiltrator. I can sneak my way past everyone and handle this on my own."

"Ah, yes! Would need to seal off areas with fan controls for ventilation. Prevent vorcha from sabotaging systems. Cure dispersal must be airborne. Quickest possible solution."

"Makes sense," agreed Shepard, pulling up her schematics for the area. "I can go through the vents and find my way around. They won't see me."

Excited for this new resolution, Mordin quickly used his omni-tool to transfer to Shepard's: "Here, take plague cure. Restore power. Release cure. Saved Citadel with impossible odds. Should be able to save Omega with similar probabilities. Will be here when you return."

Seeing Shepard off at the clinic's other exit, Legion and I remained here with her by the door.

I wanted to ask if I could accompany her. She could have cloaked with me. Obviously. Yet Shepard seemed determined to do this on her own. I only would've slowed her down.

Legion was the one to ask, "You are certain?"

"Yes," said Shepard. "I'll handle it. It'll be faster this way."

"If you need any backup," I tried, "Then call us. We'll do our best to reach you."

"Miranda, don't worry. I'll be fine. Wait here with Mordin and Legion. I'll be back soon enough."

Watching her cloak to invisibility, leaving through the door, I ached for her return already.

Of course I trusted in her abilities. I just couldn't get used to being away from her. Not for anything.

Legion noticed. "Concern?"

"We have to let her do this," I justified, masking the rest. "My concern doesn't matter."

"Shepard-Commander's skill as an infiltrator is legendary. The probability of her success is almost guaranteed. Yet you continue to worry. Why?"

Completely hypocritical, I accused, "You're overanalyzing me, Legion. What is the point?"

"Our analysis falls within standard parameters. Is discussion not preferable to assumptions?"

"I can't imagine which assumptions you could possibly make about me."

Legion made it all sound too simple: "Shifting power dynamics between Shepard-Commander and Operator Lawson are more than prevalent. Shepard-Commander is our leader. Shepard-Commander is aware of your ownership. She defers to you. Your style of attachment falls outside of her lived experiences. This would explain her subdued behavior. She appears uncertain. You enjoy her uncertainty."

This felt…uncanny. "What makes you think I enjoy this?"

"We are aware of Operator Lawson's history with controlling other organics."

"Of course you are," I droned. "Do you not believe in respecting peoples' privacy?"

"No," stated Legion. "We discover and process information as necessary. Ignoring data for the organic convention of privacy would be ineffective. Remaining blind to significant data would leave us at a critical disadvantage. We wish to know you."

"If you truly want to know me, then it's going to take time. This isn't something you can do by just looking up information about me. There's only so much you can find out that way. It's not the same."

Not quite understanding, Legion didn't respond.

Not wanting to continue this awkward conversation, I returned to Mordin's area.

Legion followed me anyway, past the new crowd of refugees that had recently arrived.

Mordin continued to help the patient in front of him, while his staff attended to the recent influx of arrivals. He offered Legion and me a smile as we made it back to his side. Seeing as there was no place to sit, much less stand, we naturally gravitated over to him. He appeared glad to have the company, choosing to speak to us instead of talking to himself as he worked.

"Good to know Shepard is helping," chatted Mordin. "Also good to know she is with us again. Was devastated when heard news of her death. Contacts in STG not so subtle in hints about ongoing research into Reaper technology. Couldn't imagine war without her around to replicate victory."

I wondered, "You were devastated, really? For practical reasons only, I assume? About the war."

"Hmm, mix of practical and personal reasons," he admitted. "Unusual for STG to view other species as renowned figures. Her work as Spectre and infiltrator inspires new recruits on Sur'Kesh and salarian colonies each day. Efficiency with sniper rifle and ghost-like stealth stand as model for us. Shepard ends battles with single strike before enemy can react. Same as central philosophy with salarian intelligence tactics. Her methods and bravery displayed on Citadel taught in schools as standard academia for students of all ages. Positive view of humans among salarians. Long-lasting impact on salarian culture."

Legion summarized, "Shepard-Commander is respected among your society."

"Greatly! STG colleagues will be happy to learn of her return. Wish my old leader Captain Kirrahe could see this day. Heard he and his team died on Virmire. Circumstances unknown. Tragic."

I thought it best to not tell Mordin the truth of Kirrahe's death.

"I shouldn't be surprised," I mentioned instead. "Shepard is already a legend among humans. To know that she's made such an impression on other species is a testament to her capabilities. I suppose I hadn't considered the idea. But it only makes sense."

Mordin smiled more as he worked. "Indeed," he agreed. "Also interesting to note for salarians that Shepard is female. Female salarians treated with great care and respect. Few numbers. Rare births. Elevated to esteemed political positions such as Dalatrass. Matriarchal influences across entire spectrum of salarian ethos. Shepard's influence substantially increased _because_ of female identity. Fascinating."

"So if she were male, would your people not respect her as much?"

"Possible, yes. Would still revere Shepard, certainly. Not to this extent, however. Maybe odd detail, but further identity with her sexual orientation contributes to legend. Salarians not able to replicate human methods of same-sex female procreation. Salarian sex drive different from humans—not hormone-based or for pleasure. Strictly for necessity of reproduction. Still able to form meaningful emotional bonds with partners, however. Rarity of salarian females used to discourage same-sex relations, due to needs to procreate. Same in males was hardly an issue due to overabundance of our kind. Shepard lessened stigma; revealed hypocrisy of double-standards. Not entirely. More time, less bigotry. Optimistic outlook on progress going forward."

Rather shocked, I said, "Well, that's quite the ripple effect… One I hadn't anticipated at all. Going so far as to directly influence your culture's views on sexuality? That's remarkable."

"Undeniably true," emphasized Mordin. "Noticed same between you and Shepard. At least, spotted what appeared to be hormone-based sexual chemistry. Unusual lightning surge. Very striking."

"I'm sorry—a _lightning_ surge? Between Shepard and me?"

"Yes! Unable to pinpoint source of sensation. Only present when both here, both together."

Legion chimed in, "We did not detect excess electrical discharge between Shepard-Commander and Operator Lawson."

Mordin speculated: "Organic phenomenon, perhaps? Bond between romantic partners manifesting itself as illusion of lightning energy. Intriguing!" Was this a repeat of that fire between Shepard and her ex? It could have been… But why was it lightning this time? "Seems to be linked to Shepard's greater influence across galaxy. Harmony and interconnection centered on her status as icon. Shepard is unifying force. Possible that there are more powers at work here. Beyond visible to trained eye. Wouldn't mind tackling subject for in-depth study—"

Far sooner than we'd expected, the proper lighting returned to the clinic, brightening everywhere. The ventilation and fans overhead powered back on, bringing enough oxygen back to the area. And with it the cure had likely dispensed through the air—as well as the rest of Omega, helping so many in need.

Using his omni-tool, Mordin verified—"Excellent! Airborne viral levels dropping. Cure will reach all plague victims across station in due time. Mercs should start retreating soon. Good to see Shepard's potential as miracle worker still in-tact. Glad that Cerberus brought her back." He then looked to me. "Curious to know process behind restoration. Must have taken exorbitant amount of resources."

"It did, actually," I supplied. "I was in charge of the project. Our geth companion Legion was one of my most brilliant colleagues who assisted me."

"Exciting! Fascinating! Would love to know more. Methods. Theory. Concept to implementation."

As Mordin was a geneticist, we had no problem understanding one another. I framed my explanation on the Lazarus Project around his subset of biology at first, expanding it more as the need arose. He kept up with our conversation perfectly in between using his omni-tool to establish someone else to take over the clinic in his stead. Not only did he keep up, but Mordin challenged my thinking at some points, if only because he brought up certain possibilities that I'd never thought about. He expressed sympathy for my limited time constraints and persistent pressure from the Illusive Man to produce results.

But he of course wished to know how it was that I had known so much about Shepard in the first place. Enough to put her back together in only two years. He wouldn't say it, though he was well-aware that I wasn't on Shepard's team when she had stopped Saren and Sovereign; and that Shepard had been involved with another woman during that time. He assumed correctly that she and I hadn't known each other at all back then. And now we apparently had this lightning surging between us, vast and unseen.

Just as Mordin's speculations were about to hit too close to home, I had a way out of the situation:

Kicking combat boot against metal, and one of the vents suddenly flew off from the wall.

Mordin stumbled backward in shock. Shepard emerged from the tight space of the vent. She jumped down, landing safely in the room without a scratch on her.

"The mission was a success," said Legion.

Shepard responded, "Looks like it. Didn't take as long as I thought. The mercs are in full retreat." Her eyes softened upon finding me. She then regarded Mordin, who continued to gape at her. "You ready to go now, Professor? I did what you asked. Aria can clean up the rest."

Composing himself, Mordin replied, "Yes, can leave clinic. Well done, Shepard. Thank you. Unexpected to be working with Cerberus against Collectors. Looking forward to it."

Returning to the _Normandy_ with Shepard, Legion, and Mordin, the four of us reached the clinical brightness of the debriefing room, at last escaping Omega's gloom. Zaeed was elsewhere on the ship; I planned on forwarding him my operation report and a summary of the debriefing later. As Shepard took her same place at the head of the table, she gave us a summary of what she pulled off with sneaking through the vents. I imagined she'd had no need to fire a single shot the whole time. I was already eager to get to work on our operation report about this.

Shepard then caught Mordin up on the Collectors. Now that he was here, we could use his help to develop that countermeasure for the seeker swarms.

"Understood," accepted Mordin. "Will analyze samples you collected from colony. Need to identify, neutralize technology used by Collectors to immobilize victims. Passed by lab on way here. Looked fully-equipped. Impressive. Pleased to see Illusive Man branching out, bringing non-humans for operation."

Shepard offered her hand to him. "Welcome to the team, Mordin."

Mordin shook her hand, placing his other one over hers as well, out of pure respect. "Thank you, Shepard. Glad to be here."

"Since you'll be in the lab, I'm assigning you as our science officer. Think that'll work for you?"

"Yes, wonderful! Honored to take on title; lend expertise to cause. Will get started with new duties immediately."

"All right, then," replied Shepard, offering a vague smile. "Next up on the agenda is locating our third potential squad member. He goes by the name Archangel, and he's somewhere on Omega. Ever since the plague broke out, he's been underground to avoid getting sick. Now that the plague's on its way out, I want to give Aria some time to restore order on the station—whatever the hell that means for her. We'll meet back here tomorrow to assess the situation, and determine the best plan of action for finding Archangel. For now, let's cool off overnight. Spend the time however you want. You're dismissed."

Presumably, Shepard remained behind to debrief with the Illusive Man. The two of them hadn't spoken since after Freedom's Progress. So I imagined they had quite a lot to catch up on. If Shepard was going to be with me, then I could only hope that her working relationship with the Illusive Man would improve. From then on, we could all get along together. Amicably so. The thought improved my mood as I returned to my room, glad for this novelty. Glad for this feeling of safety and security on this new horizon with the three of us, onward.


	31. Archangel

_"The Island" from The Last of Us Part II_

**XXXI.** Archangel

_(Shepard)_

After debriefing with the team, I stayed in the comm room for another session—this time with the Illusive Man through the QEC. I hadn't spoken with him since after Freedom's Progress. Back when things had been much different than they are now. I figured it wouldn't hurt for us to get caught up with one another; to make sure that he and I were on the same page, going forward. If nothing else.

On the same page—as a technicality.

For the sake of galactic peace, I was glad that Cerberus and the Alliance had reached a truce. Because of me. Because the imminent war against the Reapers was bigger than humanity, than anything else. And, for now, I wanted to do all I could to further this peace, this truce. I wanted to enjoy a galaxy where Cerberus and the Alliance weren't at-odds with each other anymore; where I didn't have to suspect that Miranda was up to no good; where I could partially trust her boss, enough to be somewhat open with him.

No matter what I said to the Illusive Man, or to Miranda, I expected to keep some part of me hidden.

Because I knew that Miranda had a blind spot with her loyalty to him. I knew that the Illusive Man was bound to take advantage of this somehow, someway. Even if it didn't happen today, or tomorrow, the next day, or even months down the line, it was going to go down. Inevitably. Inescapably. _Eventually._

This blooming sanctuary I felt deep in my heart and in my mind, all for Miranda as this ascending queen of mine—compromised by our obvious reality.

Not knowing what else to do, I'd chosen to hide away for a bit. At least until I could figure this out.

Arriving to this illusion of his deep red space, I found the Illusive Man sitting in his chair across from me.

No cigarette or glass of alcohol in either of his hands this time. He gave me his full attention.

"Commander Shepard," he stated. "It's good to see you again. On much different terms, this time."

"I can agree with that," I replied.

"I'm sure you can. Miranda gave everything she had to bring you back. We couldn't allow anyone to get in the way of that. Not even the one you held most dear—at the time, that is. There's no looking back. The same goes for you. Can I assume you've put your past relationships behind you?"

"They're done. I'm focused on the here and now. And the future."

"Good. I won't settle for anything less. Especially now that you and Miranda are involved with one another."

I needed him to be upfront with me—"What are you saying, exactly?"

The Illusive Man explained: "I will be frank with you. I can imagine that she's told you enough about her past. About her father, how he controlled her. Miranda is very much a stranger to actual relationships. I've watched her all but save herself for you. And for good reason. You've certainly had your _reasons_ to set aside the women from your past. But if you and I are going to move forward together, then I expect you to hold Miranda close. Permanently. She'll do no less with you. I need you to reciprocate that."

"You're asking for a lot," I pointed out. "It's only been about a month. We're not rushing anything."

"I'm asking for the future."

Completely serious, the Illusive Man stared me down, the blues of his eyes unfaltering. Making his point.

I challenged him anyway, "Are you telling me this as Miranda's boss? Or her father?"

"Both," he claimed.

"Pick one."

The Illusive Man gave a wry smirk, settling on, "Fine. I'm speaking as her father. As you insist."

"So, my potential father-in-law? Is that how far you're taking this?"

"Yes, I am."

"Why…?"

"Shepard, I know you. I understand the tragedy of your greatness. You're uniquely exceptional in your capabilities _because_ of all you've suffered. Miranda is the same as you. I fully believe that she is your equal. She is the only one who can stand shoulder-to-shoulder with you throughout this next stage of your life, and beyond. And though I may be biased, I'm convinced that you'll grow to agree with me. That is, if you don't already see what I do. Whatever happens, I want you to take care of her. Provide for her. In turn, she will do everything she can for you. She's already proven herself. She has more to give."

"You sound pretty confident about this," I noted, needing as much. Hating that I did.

The Illusive Man summarized, "I may not be aware of all the details. I can tell that Miranda's in a much better mood these days, now that the two of you are taking your time together. I simply want to make sure you'll keep this going. For her sake. Keep Miranda satisfied on her throne, and you and I won't have any problems. She deserves no less than the universe from you, Shepard. Will you give me your word?"

Even though I didn't want to accept the Illusive Man's authority—on principle—I had to set that aside. Since he chose to speak as Miranda's father, I chose to change my perspective on this. The Illusive Man only wanted the best for his presumptive daughter. He appeared to trust me with her heart, and more.

And I did trust Miranda…just not Cerberus. I didn't trust her judgment with the Illusive Man, either.

"You have my word," I vowed. "I'll please Miranda as best as I can. You're right that she deserves everything from me. That's what I will give. If for some reason I fall short, I'll do whatever I can to make things up to her. I owe her everything I have; everything I am. This is the least that I can do for her."

"I appreciate it, Shepard," accepted the Illusive Man. "Were we face-to-face in-person, I would want us to shake hands. This will have to do for the time being. I'll have my eye on you—though without any genuine suspicion. I believe you'll stay true to your promises. You would be a fool not to. After all, I didn't spend billions of credits just to bring a fool back to life. Your actions will speak for themselves."

I had to know, "What's your stake in all of this? Why do you care so much?"

"I see this as a synthesis of my broader goals," he conveyed. "You are a beacon of hope for humanity, for the galaxy at-large. We need you to defeat the Reapers. Cerberus needs you to be at your very best. As does Miranda. Therefore, keeping you alive and well kills many birds with one stone. That isn't to say I won't push you every so often. If you're going to be at your best, you can expect me to challenge you."

"Can't say I'm surprised. That sounds practical enough. As usual for you."

The Illusive Man allowed a small, guilty smile. "Commander, you misjudge me. It pains me to admit that this is a rather emotional decision on my part. I would never say this to Miranda myself. She wouldn't believe me. So I've decided to put my complete trust in you. I hope that you and I can keep this quiet."

"Why?" I questioned. "What's so emotional about these priorities of yours?"

"When Miranda first contacted me to join Cerberus, I almost turned her down. I knew enough about her from her father Henry Lawson's firsthand accounts, however warped they were. She was—and still is—too pure for this organization. No matter what she suffered in the past, it had never been enough to break or corrupt her. I worried that her work here would change that. To that end, I made sure that Miranda was assigned uncontroversial tasks, such as working with our biotic research divisions. She was able to apply herself and enrich her skills. She found meaning in her genetic superiority as well. Watching her grow into quite the accomplished woman over the years, I found myself believing in the unthinkable."

So Miranda had no idea about the worst of what Cerberus got up to. Or if she did, the Illusive Man had convinced her that it was all a mistake. Or an outlier. Or that it didn't represent the corporation at all.

I had figured as much already.

Still, I asked him, "What did you start believing in?"

"The bonds between humans. Or between all organic species, I should say. But, specifically, among human beings. In my pursuit of humanity's advancement, I'd somehow forgotten the people-part of things. How our connections and attachments—or lack thereof—ultimately shape us into who we are. When I realized this, I made a breakthrough with my research into the Reapers. That's a conversation for another time. The point is…Miranda helped me see how dogmatic I had become in my solitude. She brought much meaning to my life. And then you came along. Her angel. Or rather, her archangel."

_Archangel?_

"You're surprised," noticed the Illusive Man. "Our better angels are always listening to us whenever we require their aid. Archangels are supreme beings: protectors of all mankind. We cannot simply call them for help as we can with angels. They will only find us when they are ready. There is a big difference."

"Then you watched Miranda miss me over the years," I supposed. "From before she and I finally met."

"Correct. Your influence had already found her by the time she began working for Cerberus. You seemed to act as her moral compass. Especially once you enlisted with the Alliance. During those years of her young adulthood, I was more focused on how valuable Miranda was to me as an asset. I couldn't risk losing her to the uncensored truth of this organization. Though I knew I couldn't hide that truth from her forever. At least, not completely. So I would show the reality to her on occasion, insisting that these were experiments gone wrong. Groups and cells that had gone rogue. Miranda would shut them down on my orders, feeling validated by my trust. And affirming her worldview that she herself was not evil."

Not liking this at all, I pointed out, "So you admit to manipulating her. Sheltering her. Whatever."

"Unfortunately, yes. That is what I did. I suppose I still am."

"Well, like you said, you can't keep hiding this. Miranda's going to find out eventually—one way or another. Don't you think you're insulting her intelligence by not being straight-up with her?"

The Illusive Man conceded, "I know, Shepard. I know. That is why your promises today are important."

I interrogated him, "What, do you expect me to pick up the pieces once she's had enough of you?"

"I expect you to do more than that," he countered. "This is about far more than me passing the torch to you. Or giving you my blessing to be Miranda's one and only. Had I revealed the truth to her at an inopportune time, it would have ruined her. You saw how she reacted to the fallout of what happened with Williams—all due to your actions in containing the situation, Miranda's necessary lies and manipulations, and her crippling fears that she might be your next target. We can move toward the rest of the truth now that you are here. Now that she trusts you. Once again, this is all a fine synthesis."

He made this sound so clinical.

Like it wasn't a big deal at all. Like it was all part of the job. Just business.

But I saw the look in the Illusive Man's eyes, eclipsed by the brights of his blues, glowing in that eeriness.

Somewhere behind his veneer as a harbinger of ruthless pragmatism, I saw his fears:

His real, actual fears that Miranda had grown to mean more to him than anything. More than his endless ambitions. More than Cerberus and humanity's advancement. Maybe more than the Reapers, than defeating them by any means necessary, as someone like him would have probably advocated for.

I believed his emotions, if only because I believed his intelligence.

The Illusive Man knew that he couldn't fool me. And so here he was—in his rare sincerity, unmasked.

I hated having to do this.

Miranda and I had already made our own promises to each other. No more lies. No more sneaking around. No more deception, at all, except maybe little white lies here and there. For our romance.

But this was the solution to the _only_ problem that had nagged at me since our first kiss on Valentine's Day. The singular issue that had blown through me; that I couldn't have explained to Miranda at all; that I'd already lied to her about, insisting that nothing was wrong. I'd spent the entirety of our time on Omega earlier, incognito again, hiding from her in stealth once more. If I'd spoken up, I knew she would have given me excuses. She would have shown more blissful ignorance, insisting that none of this was a concern at all. All of which could have, would have blown up into an unnecessary argument between us.

Miranda had shown more of that same obliviousness of hers, believing me without a word. Simple and easy, without a care in the galaxy. Completely happy with me—Miranda would have accepted anything I said as gospel. The same way she did with the Illusive Man, if only for different reasons. I knew that I was on the road to experiencing the same with her, for the same reasons she was already here with me.

Because in that kiss she had given me on our date, I'd somehow managed to see _everything_ with her.

Miranda had given me the universe in that velvet blessing of her lips…with only this holding me back—

My greater, selfish worries that she might have chosen Cerberus and the Illusive Man over me someday.

 _One mind, one master_ worked both ways. She couldn't have this looming over her. Too many doubts.

"Before I go any further with this," I prefaced, "I need to know one thing from you."

"Of course," allowed the Illusive Man.

"When Miranda switched things—becoming my protector—did you know she would make that choice?"

"Not for certain," he said. "Though I strongly hoped she would. She greatly exceeded my expectations."

"No light suggestions from you?"

"None. Miranda had to arrive to that conclusion on her own. Had I forced her hand, she would have resisted, not wanting me to control her. She needs her freedom, Shepard. It is the same with this."

So many echoes of recent events:

Miranda and the rest of the team choosing to not tell me the truth about a certain someone.

Knowing that I might not have listened to reason beforehand, had they tried to intervene.

Needing me to wake up and see the truth; arriving to the correct conclusions on my own.

And now, here was the Illusive Man—the abject representation of humanity's ego and history of supremacy—giving Miranda a way out from the ruthless extremes she had aligned herself with.

For Miranda's sake, I asked her boss—her father:

"Then what's your plan with all of this?"

"I believe you understand my intentions," he noted, first. "Miranda can't stay under my wing forever. She needs to spread her own wings—with you right by her side. The problem is, she won't move on unless she sees the truth about Cerberus. That day will come. It is all but guaranteed. I'm only giving you a fair warning. Regardless of this warning, I am certain you'll notice when that day arrives. She will not. From then on, you'll simply need to let her proceed as normal, discovering what I've hidden from her."

"That sounds reasonable enough. A little _too_ reasonable. What's the catch?"

The Illusive Man made himself clear enough: "As I mentioned earlier, you can expect me to challenge you. I _will_ push you. I'll need you to rise to the occasion in every way possible. Not just for the mission, but for Miranda as well. She'll have to make the right choices when it comes to you. And if it ever comes down to it—as her father—I will make the decisions that she cannot. Someday, as I've said, the three of us will have to face this reality. Not any time soon, however. You're free to enjoy yourselves until then."

"And until that day arrives, I can expect to work with you to take down the Collectors. Right?"

"That's right," he confirmed. "Our working relationship doesn't need to change. When it is time for us to part ways, hopefully it will be after Miranda has made the best choices. You can count on her."

"Understood. Sounds like I don't have a choice either way. If I try to fight her on this, she'll resist me."

The Illusive Man elucidated: "Commander, you should know that this organization is more than what you believe. Cerberus is an idea. To Miranda, that idea is about making the hard choices in a hard galaxy. As a realist. For humanity's sake—and yours. This idea will die eventually. You don't have to force it."

If that was really true, then maybe I could breathe easier about all of this. _Maybe._

Shifting gears, the Illusive Man procured a cigarette from a slot in his chair's armrest. Lighting it with his omni-tool, he soon blew out a mist of smoke, quickly reading something on the translucent-orange screens in front of him. After a moment longer of smoking, and scanning, he continued on:

"Miranda's already sent me her preliminary report about your time on Omega. I'm pleased that you managed to locate Dr. Mordin Solus in the middle of the plague. Aria T'Loak will have to answer for her incompetence, one way or another. I wouldn't be surprised if someone's already plotting to take her down. At the very least, the station's gangs and mercenaries will want to do something about her."

"Aria mentioned something about that," I remembered. "For now, I'm giving her some time to deal with the situation. We'll go find Archangel tomorrow, hopefully once Aria has a better handle on things."

"That sounds wise," he agreed. "If for some reason she hasn't dealt with the problem, then I'm sure she'll solicit your aid. Archangel has made quite the name for himself on Omega as a vigilante, fighting for the downtrodden and taking out anyone corrupted by power. He may decide to involve himself in the conflict. You need to be prepared for that."

"I figured as much already. I'll handle the problem as necessary."

"I'm glad to hear it. As for the Collectors, it will be a while yet before the next main mission is available. Dr. Solus should have the seeker swarm countermeasure prepared by then. In the meantime, continue recruiting new members and preparing your team. Spend adequate time with everyone; get to know them well. They will be looking to your guidance for success. Keep your promises to me about Miranda, and all will be well. I trust you to put her first from now on."

* * *

While I showered off that grime and sickness from Omega, I kept Miranda on my mind.

I gripped my arms around myself. Trying to find some comfort beyond this heated stream of water. Needing to make sense of this illegible change that went on with me, scattered across the landscape of this shower's stall. Limited space, limited comfort: trapped in my own entrapment, and completely vulnerable, I stared off at nothing. Thinking. Feeling. No longer able to judge in the same ways as before.

Indoctrination immunity or not, I remained convinced of one thing:

Miranda would have always given me this feeling. The way she cared about me, the way she held herself, and the way she had earned my trust—she embodied the archetype of what I needed in a woman. Far beyond any lust driving me out of control, drawing me to her. Far more than any powerful wants warping and twisting my priorities, driving me to the brink.

Because when I kissed Miranda on Valentine's Day, _I knew._

I had seen everything with her. Everything: all the colors that I'd never fathomed before. Anything: as all the possibilities that had hidden themselves from me. Everything and anything, shaped and styled as this full arc of certainty with her. I still saw all of it now. The exact same scenarios that other women had always said they'd wanted with me. The same things that I'd never been able to reciprocate, let alone fantasize about in any real capacity. Everything that I had been too cynical or jaded to imagine at all.

My talk with the Illusive Man had only reinforced this in me.

He had said the words. I couldn't. I couldn't let myself admit the whole spectrum of this truth.

Not yet.

I definitely didn't want to get ahead of myself…

Once I finished dealing with my hair, and putting on my casual Alliance blues, I felt that low rumble from my omni-tool. Heart fluttering and all, I grew anxious over the surprise, as this lovely contradiction:

_[17:25:00] Miranda: Any plans for how you'll spend your evening before the next mission?_

_[17:25:31] Me: I haven't decided. What about you? What are you up to?_

_[17:26:08] Miranda: I'm still working on our operation report. I have to say, I'm very impressed with you. Getting the cure to the environmental station without firing a single shot. And even before that, your sniper shots against the mercs were perfectly accurate. I'd like to catalog every detail I can. This should be a great help for the team to study on their own. The Illusive Man as well. So I'll probably be a while._

_[17:27:19] Me: Thanks. It wasn't that difficult, though. It's not hard to sneak around a bunch of vorcha._

_[17:27:32] Miranda: I know. I only wanted to tell you how I feel. Although, I also have a request. If you're not too busy, that is._

_[17:27:58] Me: I'm not that busy. EDI's a big help with my duties. She's been able to summarize everything for me. All I have to do is read over her reports and sign off on them. I have plenty of free time for you._

_[17:28:16] Miranda: Then I want you to come to my room while I finish with this report. I'm not sure how we might spend the rest of the night together. We can figure something out. How does that sound?_

_[17:28:40] Me: I'd like that a lot, actually. Let me just look over these reports EDI sent me. We're short-staffed down in Engineering. I need to figure out how bad the problem is. Once I finish with this, I'll be right down to see you._

_[17:29:03] Miranda: Yes, of course. I figured we'd run into troubles now that Engineer Daniels is all by herself down there. Take your time. I'm not going anywhere._

_[17:29:11] Me: All right, then. I'll see you soon._

_[17:29:23] Miranda: I'm looking forward to it._

Sitting at my desk with my terminal open, these reports from EDI were about what I'd expected. Engineer Daniels was of course doing her best, but there was only so much she could handle on her own. Overall productivity was way down now that she was by herself. Not enough to compromise the ship or our operations. Just enough to make me worry about her. She hadn't emailed Miranda or me to complain at all. She'd instead decided to work much longer hours to make up for things.

"EDI," I said.

"Yes, Shepard," she responded.

"It sounds like Daniels needs some help down in Engineering. How is she doing?"

EDI told me, "Engineer Daniels has adjusted quickly to the increased workload. She has shown few signs of heightened stress or fatigue. She appears determined to make up for the crew's previous behavior toward Miranda."

"Really? Why?"

"Everyone aboard the _Normandy_ is aware of your increased affections for her. They are very curious. This includes Engineer Daniels. Mr. Moreau was not subtle in sharing his observations with the crew."

 _Of course_ Joker went running his big mouth about us.

Then again, I guessed it didn't help that I'd started holding Miranda's hand for everyone to see.

"Whatever," I dismissed. "Send Engineer Daniels an email for me, thanking her for the hard work. And you can promise her that help is on the way. We'll have our chief engineer once we pick up Tali soon enough. I'm still considering what to do about filling the last assignment for our power engineer."

I wanted to assign Legion to take the spot. But if Tali didn't approve, then this would've been a waste.

I had to wait and see if she could handle working with a geth, on top of dealing with Cerberus.

"Email away," confirmed EDI.

"Oh—and see what you can do about getting Daniels a permanent pay raise. I'm sure the Illusive Man won't mind, since he's handling our budget. Put in a request with him."

"Requesting it now."

"Thanks, EDI," I replied, checking over another report—this time about the armory. "Looks like Zaeed's settling in the armory just fine. You wrote here that you're worried about long-term productivity. You really think he won't be able to handle the work on his own?"

EDI justified, "As a vague possibility, Mr. Massani may need assistance in the future, as we continue to recruit new squad members. He is a seasoned mercenary soldier. But he does not have formal training as an arms master. Nevertheless, current productivity within the armory is at an acceptable level. This could change once the expected workload begins to increase. More team members will mean more weapons and armor to actively maintain at once."

She had a point.

"I see what you mean. I'll try to find a solution, then."

"Very well, Shepard. Logging you out."

I glanced over the dossiers again, looking for anyone who could fit the bill to help with the armory.

Soldiers.

Arms masters.

Only one person had the experience we needed. And I was almost surprised by who it was: Lieutenant James Vega from the Alliance. _That_ James. Seemed like he'd been following me everywhere…

_'Born on Earth and raised in a rough environment, Lieutenant James Vega is a battle-hardened soldier, able to withstand nearly any onslaught. A human tank by veritable means, he views fighting and muscle gain as a means to better himself mentally. Years of service as an arms master have given Vega clear proficiency with nearly any weapon. Dutiful on the battlefield, he is only quick to question orders outside of combat, should he find his superiors remiss in any way. His distrust for authority is rooted in his family ties. An absent father who had otherwise manipulated Vega into a life of drug-dealing: the lieutenant struggles with trusting in the judgment of his betters, let alone respecting them with any genuineness. He finds it simpler to idolize those whom he respects—from a decent distance—rather than seeing them up close for who and what they are, which would realistically shatter the illusions of his venerations.'_

_'Malleable ideas of family and other personal attachments have left Vega emotionally stilted. Friendly overtures and engaging with others as the so-called life of the party are the extent to which he may find connections. The truest exception to his rules lie with Commander Shepard's unique greatness. Vega respects the commander as the finest marine to aspire to. The full extent of his idolizing remains unclear. As an Alliance soldier, it is likely that Vega would set aside his grievances with Cerberus to join the team. Vega would serve as a positive reminder of the commander's roots on Earth. Born and raised in the same city, in similar situations, and both entrenched in Hispanic culture and the Spanish language: it is possible for the commander and the lieutenant to establish a camaraderie between superior and subordinate.'_

This sounded a little too familiar.

I spent a while longer looking into James as much as I could. He sounded perfect for the job, sure. I just worried that he might've had trouble accepting the reality of things—with Ashley, with me. I could only imagine the shock he'd feel, finding out everything that had happened. Even more, that I was dating Miranda now. The person he'd assumed was only Ashley's 'friend' back at the 94. He would have to put the pieces together and realize that he'd interacted with them right after the cover-up with the police.

I also remembered his email to me. How eager he had been—and probably still was—to join the team.

But, for now, I set his possible recruitment aside.

We could go pick him up from San Diego in due time. Not right away. Maybe after Tali joined us.

After logging out of my terminal, I took the elevator down to the crew deck, heading to Miranda's office. Readying myself to see her again. To be around her; in her presence, again. I already missed being back at home with her. Chilling out. Watching TV or playing video games while she watched me. Resting together while a thunderstorm raged outside. Having that peace with her.

The exact type of peace I'd always been searching for.

I had finally found it—with this giant red flag obscuring my sight of her endless intelligence and beauty.

The same red as that supergiant encroaching behind the Illusive Man's form, as Cerberus raging on.

Crossing through the automatic opening of her office door, room smelling richly of roses, I found Miranda working at her desk. As soon as she saw me, the concentration in her stare dissolved away to lightness. Reserved in brightness, that metallic blue of her eyes softened to a smoother hue, holding me here. I barely remembered to walk closer to Miranda instead of just staring at her. Walking around the surface of her desk. Reaching her, nearing her to tower over where she sat, to lean down to her.

Miranda simpered. "Well, hello there."

"Hey, Miranda."

Leaning more, I brought my lips to the warm fullness of her cheek. Tasting this heated shape of her face, I loved the way she tilted her head toward me for this best angle, feeling all of me. Expectant in a warm, sweet gesture: as warm as the tea in her hands, steaming within that Virgo mug she'd brought with her.

"Thank you, Shepard," she murmured, pure enough to cleanse me.

I stood up straight, asking her, "You good?"

Miranda smiled more. "I am, yes," she said. "Still drowning in work, but I can't complain. I think I actually enjoy the workload. This is…rather new for me." She gestured to the couch not too far behind her desk. "Why don't you lie down and relax? Talk with me. I've been waiting for you to come down. I'm curious."

Heading over to the couch, lying down there, I wondered, "Curious about what?"

"How your discussion went—with the Illusive Man."

Of course she was curious about that.

"It went well enough," I told her, glancing around. Perfect order. Perfect spaces. Perfect placement of her perfectly-made bed along the far wall, the black and white of that bedding tempting me. "We debriefed about Omega and discussed what to expect with Aria and Archangel. Among other things."

Multitasking with her back to me as she worked: Miranda hummed in more curiosity.

"Such as?"

"He said I shouldn't tell you. You're supposed to find out on your own. I have to agree with him on that."

Fishing for clues—"Hmm, no hints at all?"

Keeping it vague—"The Illusive Man claimed that he has something to show you down the line. Later on. _Much_ later on. I'm not allowed to give you any more details. You'll find out what it is. Eventually."

"That sounds mysterious," chatted Miranda, still so airy and pleasant. "Well, if you're forbidden from saying anything more, I won't prod you about it. I'll simply have to keep it in mind, then. I only wanted to make sure the two of you are getting along now. For obvious reasons. I'm sure you understand."

"He and I have an understanding," I reassured her, spotting the violet roses I'd given her, on the nightstand next to her bed. Scenting the room. Everlasting. "Admittedly, I didn't trust him before. You both probably knew that. Things are different now." Miranda had the box of chocolates there, next to the flower vase. Centered at the perfect angle. I wondered if she'd finished eating them all; I wondered what she'd fantasized about with that milk chocolate melting in her mouth. "For obvious reasons."

"I agree. I'm glad that the three of us can move forward together. Not only in a professional way. I trusted the Illusive Man with my life when I ran away from my father. When I ran away from…the situation I mentioned before, with my old friend Niket. So, it means a lot to me that you've found an understanding with one another. I suppose he's become more than just my boss over the years."

I chanced asking, "Is he like your stand-in father?"

Still typing away at her terminal, Miranda replied with ease, "Yes, you could say that. The notion used to bother me before. I didn't like the idea of having that type of bond with someone. I worried that it might compromise me somehow. If anything, it's helped us find a better working relationship. I understand him, and he understands me. Surprisingly uncomplicated. I couldn't have asked for a better situation."

"What changed your mind about it?"

"You did."

Such a professional calm she exuded in her vibe, in her tone.

Miranda's sophistication reigned even in her genuineness. Simple and clean. Elevated. Astute.

Watching her from behind, taking in this shape of her as she sat at her desk, shaped by the midnight blues and black of her leather, I knew where my mind had gone. I felt my face, my neck heating up by these thoughts. I sensed my sheer serendipity, from having found this woman that held my attention in this way. Maturity and self-discipline wrapped together in a special sincerity she saved only for me.

Controlled by her control.

If I could have, I would have given in to this sense, this feeling, and this knowing.

If she would let me, then I could have gone over there. Over to her. Staying underneath the desk while she worked. Staying under her, tasting in between her legs—giving Miranda what she wanted, pleasing her—while she focused on her work, seemingly ignoring me. Letting me give her the breaths that I breathed. Enjoying the grip of my hands around her thighs up to her waist, skin on leather on skin in heated want. Needing me to do this, but never really acting like it. Only giving me the vaguest of acknowledgments: lounging her heeled boots along the slope of my back; running her manicured nails through my hair, along my scalp. Sighing, pleased. Whenever she felt like it. Wherever she wanted it.

Whatever she wanted. Whatever she needed. All as a lead-up to more, to so much more—to my atmosphere on her, to me being inside of her, deeper than gravity. Whenever she was ready.

_Whenever, wherever, whatever._

Completely caught up in this image of her, it took me a while to notice my omni-tool's alert going off.

 _Knowing,_ Miranda laughed softly in her allure. "Are you going to get that?"

Face heating all over again, I fumbled to silence the alert. To check whatever this was about.

Knowing again, Miranda simply hummed in amusement this time, working away.

Opening my omni-tool, I at least caught the way she crossed her legs. Probably thinking the same as me.

_From: Tali'Zorah – Re: Catching up._

_Shepard,_

_I've made it back home after my previous mission._

_I'm resting before my next and final assignment for Father. He's sending me with a team of marines to Haestrom. There's something going on with the sun in that region. I'm supposed to collect data on the problem for the rest of the admirals, while finding whatever geth parts I can for Father's research. My good friend Kal'Reegar will be with me. He's been a great squad leader for the marines. I wouldn't have been able to get my work done this quickly without him._

_My Auntie Shala'Raan is over visiting my father and me. She's not related to me by blood, though. She's another admiral. She knew both of my parents from before I was born, so there's a lot of history between us. Raan knows that I intend to return to the Normandy soon. I'm expecting her to be here for a while of talking. Probably for a couple of hours, at least. Then I'm going to get ready to set off again._

_I hope you're doing well, Shepard. I'm really looking forward to joining you again after Haestrom. It hasn't been the same without you._

_-Tali_

As a sweet gesture, Tali had attached a picture here. A picture of us together. Looked like this was from right after the Battle at the Citadel, when I'd reunited with the team on the ship. Tali was the first one who'd all but tackled me with a hug, relieved that I was okay. I smiled over the picture, taking note of the way she had squeezed me while I'd looked down at her in a gentle, protective calm, keeping my arms around her.

I could only imagine who'd taken this. Liara or Ashley, probably.

Smiling more, I decided to find a frame for this and set it in my private cabin.

Miranda's question had such a fine lilt, "So? Who was it?"

"Tali emailed me," I replied. "She's back at home for now. One last assignment to take care of."

"Mmm, that's good news. I imagine you'd like to name her as our chief engineer once she joins."

"Yeah, I plan on it. She's more than qualified for the job. I'm keeping it as a surprise. I haven't mentioned this to her yet. I'll tell her when she joins up again. Think you'll be busy for a while longer?"

"Yes, I will be," answered Miranda. "I'd like to set up a few things for Tali'Zorah now that we'll be seeing her again. Since she'll be a senior officer aboard the ship, I'll need to make certain she has the appropriate amenities in her clean room. Though the question remains as to what you'll do in the meantime."

I wrote up my reply to Tali's email, still talking, "I'll find something to do. I want to stay in here with you. I'm not just going to leave. I should take it easy."

"Playing it safe tonight?"

"I mean, it's not like we can just go out. Taking you to Afterlife for drinks doesn't seem like the best idea."

Miranda bristled. "I'd much rather avoid heading back out to Omega, if at all possible."

"Why's that?"

"The place is filthy, that's why," she criticized. "I have other, more colorful words to describe the station. Suffice to say I wasn't satisfied with the single shower I took after the last mission. I might take another one later, just to make a point. Maybe things will improve after the plague passes completely."

"Somehow I'm not surprised," I teased.

"Mm, of course not. I do appreciate you wanting to take me out for drinks, anyway. Perhaps another time. For now, why don't you watch TV in my bed? Maybe you could find a vid to keep your attention."

Looking around again, I asked, "You have a TV in here?"

Miranda used her omni-tool to forward a few permissions to mine.

"It's like the one in your bedroom at home," she supplied. "It will come down from the ceiling. All you have to do is set the task. Would you like to?"

"Sure, I'll do that. Thanks."

Resting in Miranda's bed for a change, for the first time, I started liking her room even more. Browsing for something to watch on her TV hanging from the ceiling, directly in front of the bed—I found an unexpected comfort in the coldness about this space. The window nearby, off to the side, open to the view of Omega's pale lights, and this simplistic setting, unadorned: it was a nice contrast to my private cabin. I felt pretty comfortable by the time I picked a vid to immerse myself in for a little while tonight.

Since I was going to see Tali again kind of soon, I put on my omni-tool's headphones to watch _Fleet and Flotilla_. That favorite movie of hers about a turian-quarian relationship. Separated by duty, war, and drama, these two characters, Shalei and Bellicus, sounded like classic star-crossed lovers. Before I knew it, I was curled up in Miranda's bed under the sheets, watching this romantic drama for the first time.

I guessed it was…sweet. Touching. Not something I normally would've picked out for myself. I definitely understood now why Wrex used to tease Tali about this being a chick flick. But I could see why Tali enjoyed this. I wasn't sure if she still did. Maybe she'd grown out of it after all these years. Probably so.

As I watched the vid, I couldn't help wondering if Tali and Miranda would get along. Not necessarily as friends. At most, as colleagues. Teammates. I remembered how amused Tali had been by Miranda back on Freedom's Progress, what with all the staring going on. Unintentional or otherwise. Then again:

Things were entirely different these days.

If anything, I knew that Tali would object to Cerberus more than Miranda herself.

I fully expected to have that conversation with her.

Even as I felt my own reservations burning away in the heat of the moment, I had to be realistic.

But more and more, I remembered those enlightening visions that Miranda had given me with her kiss.

Higher on this hierarchy, she stayed highest as this scene played out with Shalei and Bellicus on the Citadel, as they stood together on a balcony overlooking the Presidium:

_"But Shalei, we can never be together. I have my duty, and you have your people."_

_"Not tonight. Tonight, I'm as free as the dust in the solar wind."_

Resting over Miranda's pillows, breathing in the remnants of the smooth smell of her hair—I wondered if she really did know everything about me.

She saw me; just as I saw her, unable to walk away.

_"I want you to see behind this mask. I want you to see who I truly am."_

_"I already have."_

After a few hours, Miranda finished with her work.

Looking accomplished, looking fine as hell, she strode over in this direction. I kept my eyes to hers. Watching as she headed past me to her adjacent bathroom. Walking past me, Miranda made a point to be gentle, loving: stroking my face in such a sensual softness, glad that I was here with her. She then disappeared into the bathroom, closing the door behind her. Locking it. Soon I heard the streaming sounds from her shower water running, misting. Strangely, this only gave me a false sense of security.

I spent the last of this time watching the remainder of the vid. Thinking about Miranda all the while.

Thinking about this place I was at—mentally, emotionally. This false, false security. Purely false. Untrue.

Wondering what was on Miranda's mind right now, given how somewhat-distant I had been lately.

Almost fearing these thoughts of hers, from the vibe she gave off. This feeling I had now from her:

Darkened.

Eclipsed.

_Foreboding._

Finished with her shower, Miranda returned to me. Lights off around us—I hadn't noticed that she had enshrouded the room in this darkness, lit up only by the view of Omega's lights outside the windows. Lighting me with her body, Miranda slipped into bed with me, and turned the television off. Getting that distraction out of the way. Settling herself on top of me, straddling my waist. Topped off with her allure, wearing this nightdress of hers. Black lace ephemeral with her sex appeal. Effortless in truth. Even as I didn't know what to do with my hands. Even as I felt myself faltering, feeling the lining of Miranda's thong riding against my Alliance blues, my pants, my navel. Even feeling her weight on me like this. Staring up at her staring down at me. Gazing up at this haze in her eyes, steel blues melting just for me.

This perfect touch of her hands, her fingertips, her manicured nails, settling over my shoulder, my chest:

Miranda licked her full lips, before she asked me, "So, how was the vid?"

"It was fine," I made myself say. "Not normally my thing. I…wanted to try something different."

"You're doing that a lot lately. Stepping out of your comfort zone. Trying new things. I wonder why…"

Parched throat, parched mind; I couldn't begin to dissect the night of her tone, edged in this meaning.

Edging more, Miranda straightened her back as she stayed in place, straddling my waist just as she was.

Sharpened from her manual filing, she brought her nails to my face. One hand. Longest, rounded somewhat: her thumb nail, she edged closer to my lips. Uneven, unsteady in awe, Miranda used her nail to round along my skin. Outlining. Drawing on this imaginary makeup of her touch, making me hers. Up to her own stare, I found her eyes hollowing through mine. Concentrating. Hazing and dazing more. Engorging me, she devoured me whole without moving. Without saying a word. Only continuing to trace along my lips with her nail, jagged and jaded. Swordless as ever, she could have plunged through me with her hands instead. Her stare. Her breaths rising and falling, sharp and shallow enough to shear me.

Just as she was about to lean down to me, more, I held Miranda's face in my hands.

Stopping her this way.

Leveraging her non-weight over my palms. Feeling the sheen of her hair brushing against my fingers.

Miranda smirked. "What is it, Shepard?"

Pained, I whispered, "How do you know?"

She knew this, too. "How do I know what?"

I brought her face closer to mine, gripping a bit. "What's wrong with me."

Moaning as much, Miranda said, "We've gone over this already. There's nothing wrong with you. You and I are consenting adults here, aren't we? When the time is right—once we get into the kinks we like—you can let loose. Give me all your demons. Until then, we're going to smile. Enjoy this with me."

Nearing me, overpowering my grip—Miranda closed this distance between us.

Darkened in sight, in mood—she settled her smile over my scowl, just as dark, just as meaningful.

Lightless from her beauty eclipsing me, in and out, this light-headedness got to me. This same feeling Miranda had given me from our first kiss. This same heat prickling through my skin, my face, down to my neck, sweat seeping. All laced with her courage. All seasoned with Miranda's control, her power over me, straddling me at the top of this totem pole. Hardness from this phantom feel of me, wishing I could thrust into her for some semblance of control, even if it was all in vain. Veining veins over my arms, my hands, bulging from my blood pressure rising, as much as Miranda laughed in this genteel softness, hardened with her edge, her knowing. She roamed her hands over this bulging, of this webbing green protruding from my skin in my restraint. She knew how much I needed to buck her, to resist her. But I couldn't. I couldn't do it. She roamed more. She laughed more. She smiled, more, knowing everything.

Seeing heaven with her in this light, in this dark: her lips, her kiss sent me flying in place, fantasizing.

Ascending her importance in my mind, in my heart. Rising, as much as she rose over me, leveraging her body over mine like this. Reaching through to my lips, into my mouth with this feather-thickness of her tongue, purposeful in roaming. Completing me over and over again. Clarifying my clarity. Opening me to the universe and back, sending me higher and farther and wider each time. Pebbling my skin up to my scalp with these discoveries, chills chilling me down to my bones from how much I needed this from her, down to the marrow of me. Only breathing because she gave me this function, voluntarily. _Already._

Getting ahead of myself.

Getting way ahead of myself, again with these thoughts. Again with these fantasies. This sight, seeing her as my monarch. Ruling over this domain of me, this mind of me, this heart of me. Unconditionally.

In this unconditional sense, Miranda took her chance:

Slipping her legs between mine, she opened me up to her. Opening me this way. Opening me to her wiles, to this press of herself over me, right in the middle. Halving me in this switching split, she immediately changed this atmosphere surrounding us. Miranda smirked right into my mouth, pitching me higher in this softness I never knew I had. In her infinite amusement, she kept throwing me off more—pressing harder into me. Between my legs. Against my lips. Deeper into my mouth with her tongue, this white-mint freshness of her toothpaste cleaning my already-clean teeth, sullying me with this unexpected shame. Shame from what she drew out in me; that I enjoyed it.

Miranda zeroed in on this, gripping me more.

Pulling up at my legs for leverage over me.

Leveraging herself this way in her dominance over me.

Over me, on top. Over everything of me. Blinding me in this sightlessness, until I felt this sharpness of her intentions. Of what Miranda _wanted_ to do, but would not. Digging her nails into the fabric of my clothes, she could have taken them off of me. Getting rid of this blue. Skinning me alive to sate her.

On instinct, I slipped out from underneath her body.

I escaped the bed.

And I was about to leave the room. Not caring that I didn't even have my boots on.

Unthinking, unbound.

Making me think, making me realize how bound I was—I saw that Miranda had locked her door. That red glared there in warning. Demanding me to stay. Ordering me to remain right where I was. Standing here at this juncture, this strange intersection. Halved and halved from Miranda's office, from her room: standing near the couch I had sat on earlier, with the low table just in front. Just by me. Glass as crystal reflecting my set jaw, my controlled breaths, and the slight slip of sweat over my face, stopping me here.

Footsteps pointed, purposeful—Miranda stalked over to me. I could somehow hear the sway of her hips as she walked. Talking me down without words, exactly as her locked door did. Locking me to this spot.

"Just so you know," she murmured, nearing me more, "This isn't new for me. Far from it. At least, not in my imagination." Miranda's voice sounded so much closer. "I would always think of you. Whenever I had some other woman pinned underneath me. Fucking her that way. Trying to find some sort of stress release. Trying to find _you."_ Sensual in meaning, she set her hand over my hair. Stroking in longing, down the length of my spine. "Perhaps you don't see yourself this way. But I do. It's far more than the warning I gave you about us switching. I want to show you what you've been missing out on. With me."

Staring at that red of her possessiveness over the door, I muttered out, "Why…?"

Miranda pressed her lips to my neck in our difference, whispering as a shadowy mist, "I need to take care of you, Shepard. You are intensely beautiful. So much that it hurts. I'm aching for you. _Right now."_

Desire for me unbridled, Miranda made me lie down on the couch. Closer than the bed. Closer to what she wanted—she got back on top of me, settling herself between me, just like before. Stronger than before, harder than before, she breathed this hard strength into my mouth. Sparking my heart by her touch, her insistence, I felt myself falling out of control. Gripping Miranda's waist, just to feel her—I felt how much she moved, how she shifted; how she pushed herself to push me. Eager to have me, eager to claim me—later, in due time, without rushing—I sensed her insistence testing her nonetheless, goading.

She could have lost herself in me.

She could have lost control.

She could have torn my clothes off, getting them out of her way.

She could have done _anything_ to me…and I would have let her.

This exact same power that I was so used to giving to everyone else—Miranda wanted to give it to me, and more. And I could see it with her. I could see everything with her, all the same as her love on me. All the same, completely similar in how she rattled this cage of my emotions, jerking me. Tearing at this cage with her bare hands. Pulling at bare steel with her grip, baring her needs to me in this lightless sea of her sight of me. Rusting at this steel, this cage that I had locked myself in, even with my naïve willingness to try something new with her. To try everything with her. Absolutely everything—even this.

At this panic of my realization, I broke away from her lips, breathing hard.

Harder than before, Miranda pulled me right back. Moving into me all over again, stronger.

These muffled sounds of her insistence, moaning as her might over me—she was too close to me. Too close to getting what she wanted, even in her restraint. Too close to making me want to please her in this inverse, forgetting everything we had agreed on.

Forgetting to agree, boundaries in place: we didn't have a safe word. We hadn't discussed this yet.

This panic, panic flying and fighting and flashing before my eyes; I had no way out.

As much as I muffled my own panic against her, Miranda only smirked into me more, _needing._

Spotting the lock on the door, I blurted out the only safe word I could think of— _"Red!"_

Miranda stopped immediately.

Removing herself from me, out of breath—she retreated to the table just by the couch. Sitting there over the low glass, the crystal. Keeping her legs together, modest in her shifting state of mind. Trying to compose herself again. Breathing in and out as she watched me do the same.

Avoiding her, I turned around. Lying over my side. Facing away from her like this. Overwhelmed.

Feeling her eyes on the back of my head, it was all I could do to breathe in this leather. Still needing her.

Miranda managed to say, "I'm sorry, Shepard."

Even with her apology, I felt how much she wanted to continue anyway. Needing to do it.

She respected my weakness anyway. Not judging me at all.

Knowing how badly she needed me, I couldn't be upset with her. Not that. Never that.

"I'm just not used to this," I admitted. "Sorry."

"You have nothing to apologize for," she mothered. "I'm only wondering if you'll let me make up for it."

I shook my head. "You didn't do anything wrong."

"That isn't what I mean," she insisted.

I realized what Miranda meant once she stood up, needing to guide me back to bed.

I decided to follow her.

We lay down this time, unobstructed. Miranda sat up against her pillows this time. Holding me. Keeping my head over her chest. Feeling this burning of my ear, the side of my face over her skin; letting me listen to her thundering heart, the way she controlled herself. Still thinking about more, wanting more. She couldn't help her thoughts. Even shifting on occasion; she wouldn't let herself touch me any more than she already had. Yet these lingering intentions about her had my mind spinning twice as fast.

Caring for me, _after,_ she kept her touch soft. Gentle. Even while sighed on occasion, regretting. Regretting her own conditions about not rushing things. Finding her convictions to keep at this pace with me, again. But I understood that her view of me had permanently dimmed to this shadow. As it did, I lost another facet of my control over her. My own influence over her. My own power over her, torn. Tearing and bending as my knees could have, should have. Kneeling before whatever she wanted. Giving her whatever she pleased. Doing whatever she asked for, whether she spoke her commands out loud or not.

Miranda knew exactly why I needed this line of succession with her.

* * *

Sleeplessness, insomnia. I had let Miranda hold me through most of the night. Then I'd made out with her again after that, for hours more through to this new morning. Then I had escaped to my private cabin once it was time to get ready for the next mission. Showering again, suiting up again. All the while feeling like Miranda had once again siphoned off some part of me. Because she knew exactly what she was doing, eroding my dominance away. Twisting me into true submissiveness in every other way.

Twisting me all the way out.

Sitting down on my bed in my stealth suit, I sighed over this change. This switch. This absolute shifting that left me breathless, barely able to keep sighing to catch myself. Burying my face in my hands. Trying to breathe, in and out. Over and over again. Never really finding solid ground to exist on anymore.

Miranda had such an unsettling gift for turning me into someone else. Someone I didn't recognize.

Heart thundering, forehead breaking out into a cold sweat. Still short of breath. Gloved hands trembling.

Still trying to breathe. Trying to center myself. Trying to push this feeling away, and failing.

I slicked this sweat back into my hair as I tied my taut tail, flowing down my spine as usual.

I needed to distract myself away from this feeling.

I'd already done my research on Archangel. But I did still have some time before the briefing at 9:00am.

Just as I wondered how to spend my time, the low rumble from my omni-tool went off. Not from my chat room with Miranda, though. An actual call. Through the private frequency I'd recently made for us.

Trying and failing to steel myself, I went ahead and answered:

I kept my voice deep as I said, "Hey."

Miranda kept her voice light enough. _"You ran off earlier."_

Light and direct, her tone told me of this continuation from last night. Her mood, her vibe. Her aura.

"I know. Sorry. This is still pretty new for me. I don't just mean the way you kissed me."

She knew. She wanted to keep this going. Yet she still asked, _"Do you want me to stop?"_

"No, you don't have to stop…"

 _"Whether I have to or not is irrelevant. Do you_ want _me to slow down with this?"_

Not knowing how to answer that, I said nothing.

Miranda hummed in a sexed amusement. _"You're such a mystery, Shepard. At times like these, I begin to wonder too much. About you. About what it is you even see in me. Do you like me, really?"_

"Yeah, I like you," I admitted, thoughts clouded by how much I adored her. "I like you a lot."

_"What do you like about me?"_

The way she said that— _needing_ to know—I caught her hook. My hook in her. Her absolute fascination with me. Fascinated and absolute in her feelings. Feeling everything for me. Way more than I could fathom. Even the mere idea of Miranda's totality sent my imagination on a trip. Sultry in this heat, I felt the slow simmer steaming me. Inside and out. Everywhere. Changing the cadence of my heartbeats, syncing them with hers. Even at this minimal distance. Even while I couldn't see her. Even in this silence.

Miranda could have listened to me breathe over this line for hours, for days without complaining at all.

Realizing that truth, I told her, "I like this about you. You're insistent—without pressuring me. You're expectant—without any real entitlement. You're incredibly compelling. I don't want you to stop this."

 _"I enjoy hearing that from you,"_ she accepted. _"But I've been thinking…perhaps I_ should _set this particular energy aside. At least for the time being. I do worry about scaring you off."_

"Something tells me you're enjoying this more than you thought you would."

She laughed softly. _"Of course I do. You're making me work for it. Not on purpose. I want to earn you."_

"Well, I feel the same about you," I mentioned. "Do you actually want to set this one thing aside?"

_"Mmm, for now… This is more along the lines of pushing your boundaries. Even in an otherwise vanilla setting. We don't have to get into this now. I got ahead of myself. Uncharacteristic, I suppose."_

"You still need this. You're thinking about it now. I know you are."

_"It's no secret that I need a lot from you. That doesn't mean I should behave any differently. Not yet."_

Even as she said that, I didn't really believe her.

Miranda had twisted her priorities around in a different way. Whether she chose to admit it or not.

I saw the truth—heard it in the way she breathed, harder on occasion. Without meaning to. Giving away what was still on her mind. How she kept controlling herself. So much flitting through her mind; she could have lost herself and given in. After all this time. All this suffering, without me. But she wouldn't allow herself to go that far. I almost wished she would, if only to show me those depths, down to the bottom of her depravity, so far-removed from her professionalism. Her control. Her true consideration.

Besides, we did have our mission soon…

If we kept this up, I worried that I'd lose my focus out there.

 _"You're awfully quiet again,"_ noticed Miranda. _"Won't you tell me what's on your mind this time?"_

I picked at something else, opposite: "If we're talking about me on top, I'm more curious about that. I'm more…familiar with it. Are you willing to move toward this instead? First. Before anything else, I mean."

_"I am, yes… But even still, it's not that simple. There's one particular detail that elevates us together."_

"And which detail is that?"

_"I want you under my control."_

Sweat beading over my skin; I stopped breathing.

That image I'd thought of, back in Miranda's room, I remembered it now: how I'd wanted to get underneath her desk to please her while she worked. While she ignored me. While she got off over time, if that was what she wanted. While I stopped thinking, just to give that to her. Nonstop, if she so decided. Completely subservient. Bordering on the rest. Teasing with it. Almost getting to that edge.

_"Maybe this is my ego speaking. I crave nothing more than to own you. Whether you're the one fucking me or not, I have to know that you're mine. As powerful as you are, I want you to elevate me by association. Or rather, because you're the one lifting me up. Let's just say there's quite a lot of symbolism in you holding my thighs up—while you pin me against a wall. Fucking me that way. As one example."_

Asphyxiating myself without touch—this could only work for so long.

I made myself breathe. Jagged and all. Imagining precisely what she said, as she said the words. Giving her everything I had. Every ounce of my strength. Making her sound the way I needed her to, spurring me more. I had to know her. I had to find out how she sounded, how she felt. That deeply, soaking me.

Miranda knew.

She laughed a little bit more. A little cynical. A little sinister. A little fucked up. Triggering something deep in me, _hard._

That was enough for her.

Just enough to signal that she would have exactly what she wanted with me.

_"Of course, there will be times when you're the one in control. I admit that I am a masochist in some ways. Many ways, really. There are certain interests I have. Ones that I'd like to trust with you. However, that's a conversation for another time. We shouldn't get into that now. Not right before our mission."_

I breathed out, "Not even a hint?"

Miranda hummed, thoughtful. She wanted to reward me. She had the power to do it.

 _"Well, I suppose one tiny hint wouldn't hurt,"_ she allowed. She considered for me. And then: _"It involves the incident that you took care of. When you first arrived to the ship. When you dismissed the crew."_

"Because they mistreated you," I remembered. "You felt like you had to put up with it. For my sake."

_"Yes, although there was another reason why I let it go on. I would think of you while this happened."_

I might've had an idea already… "What reason was that? Why'd you think about me?"

_"I'm not telling you yet, Shepard. You asked for a hint. I gave you one. Let's leave it at that, shall we?"_

"Okay…if that's what you want."

That little laugh again. _"It isn't necessarily what I want. I won't be responsible for you losing your focus today. For now, I should let you get going. It's almost that time. I'll see you in the comm room in a bit."_

Remembering to breathe. "Yeah, I'll—see you soon. Bye for now."

_"Bye, then."_

Miranda said she wouldn't be responsible for this, but it was bound to happen anyway.

Thoughts chopped and screwed, revolving around those hints of hers: I couldn't help wondering about what she was into. Wondering about it, and why. Wondering how and why she could possibly be such a masochist. Finding some sick, twisted way of enjoying that type of mistreatment—but only from me. Only from this sadism I had never, ever let myself get into. Not fully. Not completely. Now, here she was, telling me that she was into that type of degradation. That type of burning humiliation. Possibly, maybe.

Finding power in those lows. Feeling safe in a safer environment. Turning those tropes on their head.

As far-off as all of that was, I appreciated Miranda's trust in me now. Today.

Even though she had my mind all over the place, I found my own freedom in her acceptance, her wants.

Nearing 9:00am, I decided to leave my room. Heading down the elevator. Around to the comm room.

Trying to remember myself.

Remembering that I had prepared for this mission, somehow…

Remembering that I was supposed to be Commander Shepard now. That specific persona of mine.

Walking from the lab to the comm room, I spotted Zaeed heading this way from the armory, directly across. Fashionably late, he gave me the bluntest of smirks, the wrinkles of his scarred, sunburned skin crinkling upward. The sleeve of his tattoo along his exposed arm within his armor: muscled in movement, he lifted his arm in greeting. Unexpected. I hadn't taken him seriously before when we'd first met, when he'd talked about his respect for me. But maybe he really had meant what he'd said.

Even more unexpected, Zaeed greeted me in his gruff voice, "All right, Shepard?"

"Zaeed," I acknowledged.

Zaeed snorted out a laugh, letting himself into the comm room first. "Just business? Can't complain. Sure do run a tight ship around here. Got your armory all nice and neat now, at least." I was almost thrown off by his lack of deference to me, at least with the door. With having to walk in after him, watching as he took his spot at the table, next to Legion. Across from Miranda and Mordin. "Gotta get used to these little meetings of yours. Who're we picking up next? That bastard merc-killer, Archangel?"

Completely oblivious in his one-sided conversation, Zaeed failed to notice the tension in the air. It looked like Miranda and Legion had been in the middle of something before we walked in. An argument or otherwise some type of disagreement. Like last time, for our briefing with Mordin—I'd felt this same tension then. And now Mordin looked to be in caught in the center of it all, grimacing in awkwardness.

Not prepared for this at all, I made my way to the head of the table anyway.

Miranda frowned at Zaeed, annoyed. "If you'd let Shepard lead the briefing, perhaps you would have your questions answered properly."

Standoffish, Zaeed folded his arms. "The hell's up with you? That any way to say good morning to me?"

"Spare me your needless pleasantries," she sniped. "First you show up late, and now you're bucking authority. I don't care if you aren't used to military operations aboard this ship. I was very specific in my welcoming email to you— _do not_ show up to our briefings with Shepard, or after she arrives. It's highly disrespectful."

"Yeah, yeah, fine," dismissed Zaeed. "Wouldn't mind admitting my fuckup on my own. Someone piss you off before I got here or what?"

Miranda scoffed, "That's none of your concern."

Zaeed called out, "Legion, Mordin! Was she terrorizing you or what? C'mon boys, come clean already!"

Legion shifted its head flaps, clearly agitated. "We do not understand the question. We will not ask for clarification. We wish for Shepard-Commander to begin the briefing. Anything further is irrelevant."

Mordin looked a little gloomy. "No comment, Zaeed. No comment."

Declaring victory without words, Zaeed gave a knowing smirk.

Aggravated beyond reason, Miranda only scoffed again, of the mind to defend herself some more.

Still turned on from last night, from a few minutes ago—and turned on more, now, because of Miranda's attitude, uncensored and relentless, I found my shortcomings. How I was again unequipped to deal with this new environment. I had felt the same way after Anderson had handed over command of the _Normandy_ to me, once I became a Spectre. But this instance was new. Shaped differently. Scented differently. Shared differently among the team, this morning. They respected me. They looked up to me. But they could never understand this shearing feeling in my mind. All because of this illusion.

I wasn't really the one in control here. Not anymore.

If I let this tension in the air go on any longer, the team would notice how my control had subsumed.

Not looking at her, I kept my tone subdued enough. Non-accusing. "Miranda. Let it go."

Leering off to the side, she otherwise did as I told her to.

Maintaining the same tone, I addressed everyone: "Archangel is our final recruit here on Omega. He's a vigilante keeping the citizens safe on the station. His operations include disrupting shipments of tainted eezo, busting gang operations, and taking out mercenary leaders causing too much trouble with the law. Up until recently, he's had a dedicated team working by his side. Archangel lost his team to a retaliatory strike by the Blue Suns, Eclipse, and Blood Pack working together. It's possible that the mercs teamed up to finish him off. Whatever the case is, we need to find him."

Zaeed commented, "Yeah, I heard of Archangel. Stubborn, idealistic son of a bitch. He won't go down easy. Never knew whether to trust him or hate him. He took out a lot of good men I used to know. Also got rid of some real snakes I couldn't stand. He's a slippery one, too. Finding him should be fun for us."

"Agreed," I said, again, just to acknowledge him. "The mercs obviously want Archangel dead or gone. I have a feeling he may be targeting Aria now. Given her handling of the plague, a lot of people needlessly suffered under her leadership. Archangel would be the type to make her pay for something like that."

Legion summarized, "The probability of an assassination appears likely, given Archangel's inclinations."

"Yes, indeed," noted Mordin. "Watched many patients tackle ethical and moral dilemma with handling of plague. Struggled with understanding how, why this occurred. Felt that Aria wasn't doing enough. Roadblocks with cure and environmental facility were meaningless to them. More critical to witness so much pain. So much loss. Friends, family members, loved ones. No one looking out for them. No true recourse before you arrived."

Miranda wouldn't say anything. But she appeared to agree with the general sentiment, anyway. At least.

I requested, "EDI, what's it looking like out on Omega right now? What's the situation?"

EDI responded, "To summarize, there is currently anarchy out on the streets. Not everyone has been able to return to their homes due to the presence of armed looters. Several mercenaries are out in force attempting to locate Archangel. They wish to either kill him, or force him to flee his hideout. They also suspect that he has plans to assassinate Aria T'Loak. With her death, the mercenaries would be able to take her place. The Blue Suns, Eclipse, and Blood Pack have all joined forces together in this effort."

Zaeed snorted, "Never thought I'd see the day they all decided to join forces. If they're working as a team for once, then they must think they've got this in the bag. They'll tear each other apart once they've got control of the station, though. That's for damn sure."

I asked EDI, "Are the mercs recruiting any volunteers to help them find Archangel? Any help at all?"

"No, they are not," she replied. "The mercenaries appear to be taking advantage of the social unrest on the station. Aria is yet unaware of their plans to send Archangel after her. Thus far, they have remained undetected. Should they discover anyone attempting to reach Archangel, the mercenaries will respond with deadly force. It would not be wise for you and the team to enter the hideout in a normal fashion."

Finally, Miranda spoke, authoritative: "Then we'll send our infiltrator in. Shepard can cloak and get the job done that way. Simple."

"Not so fast," warned Zaeed. "How's she gonna get Archangel out with her? You think they're just gonna let him waltz on outta there?"

"I'll handle it," I said.

Intrigued, Mordin wondered, "Social stealth a possibility?"

"More than likely. There has to be a way. And if there isn't, I'll make one."

Zaeed chuckled. "Confident, aren't we? Gotta appreciate that."

Admittedly, I recognized my own thinking. Possibly disordered. Possibly wrong, and misguided.

The way Miranda stared at me—her intensity was too much. Her concentration. Her focus. Her fixation.

Part of me needed to get away from her…even if it was only for this one mission.

As unfocused as I was now, I feared the consequences of bringing her along with me like this.

Legion inquired, "Will Shepard-Commander broadcast her progress for us to monitor?"

Zaeed remembered, "Oh, yeah, like on the Citadel. Back when you took down Sovereign. The Council fleets got to watch you in real-time. Think you could set up that optical camera of yours again? Wouldn't mind giving you some pointers on how to deal with those hotheads running the Blue Suns these days."

"That's fine," I said. "Once I leave the ship, I'll link my audio and video to the helm with Joker. Everyone head to the bridge. I'll meet you there in a few minutes."

Miranda, Legion, Mordin, and Zaeed each gave me their affirmative before leaving the room.

Waiting a moment, I stayed behind for a bit. Needing this silence. Needing to breathe.

Needing to remember my focus.

Needing to keep my emotions out of my way…for now.

Needing to stop myself from worrying if I had made a mistake by giving into Miranda—at all—this soon.

* * *

Wrangling my focus back while I passed through Omega to Afterlife, I felt dissociated. Removed from myself. Not even present, all while so many people were still out on the streets. This time in a controlled rage—they complained to the so-called armed militia, the only police force around on the station. None of them could return home because of the looters and squatters everywhere in the slums. The citizens shouted about the lack of actual law enforcement. They yelled about Aria, how she didn't seem to give a fuck about their plight. They screamed about all the friends and loved ones they'd lost to the plague.

Obscured in the crowd, the mercenary groups moved along the promenade in front of the Afterlife club. The yellow and white of the Eclipse group stood out to me the most, catching my eye with ease. Hidden together, they escaped into a small alcove filled with already-open cars, driving off to another location. If no one bothered to lock the cars, then the mercs must've been in a hurry—they were definitely after Archangel, trying to get this done in the middle of all the unrest.

Glancing at the club, I thought against talking to Aria after all.

I didn't want to waste this opportunity; I didn't want to waste any more time.

As I made my way over to the cars, Miranda had to ask through the team's radio, _"Shepard, where are you going? I thought you needed to speak with Aria first."_

I chose to stay quiet. She wouldn't have been able to hear me over all the protests going on.

That and I was still trying to delude myself. Thinking that I had some space away from her. Even though she and the team, plus Joker, all watched my every move.

Zaeed brushed her off, _"Let the infiltrator do her thing. She knows what she's doing."_

When I got in one of the cars and took off, following the mercs, Miranda commented again, _"This isn't what we agreed on. Where are you going? Why aren't you saying anything?"_

Joker told her, _"Uh, Miranda, there's really no point in freaking out like this. You should listen to Zaeed."_

_"I'm not freaking out. No one's freaking out! I just want answers."_

_"You could've fooled me. I mean, seriously, you're pacing around and everything. What's up with you?"_

Mordin speculated, _"Romantic involvement with Shepard possibly clouding judgment. Protective instincts? Overprotective? Loss of control in situation? Perhaps stress would be alleviated if we had accompanied her on mission."_

Zaeed joked, _"You're the controlling type, eh? No wonder. Explains a lot. I'd better watch my step around you, then. Wouldn't want you to tear me a new one just for one goddamn mistake. Like you did earlier!"_

I couldn't take it anymore—"Another word and I'm cutting the radio off."

Everyone fell silent.

I let out the quietest breath I could, still tailing the Eclipse mercs through the skies.

Once they landed at their base of operations, I waited a while before setting the car down. Cloaking beforehand, in anticipation, I made sure that their armored uniforms disappeared from my sight. I then parked in the middle of a bunch of other cars, doors hanging open; abandoned in the mercs' haste to arrive here in time.

Past this gaggle of cars, I headed farther into the base unseen, following the sounds of gunfire. Scores of uniforms joined together in this rare unity: yellow and white from the Eclipse humans, salarians, and asari; blue and white from the Blue Suns humans, turians, and batarians; and red and black from the Blood Pack krogan and vorcha, with their varren freely wandering around the area, playing in lightness. That lightness almost distracted me as I passed through this series of rooms. The talks of strategy from the mercs fell on deaf ears for me; I was still too dispossessed from myself, at precisely the wrong time.

Discussions about sending in a gunship to scare Archangel out of hiding;

Mentions of adding in a YMIR mech for added injury, before that, to make him work harder;

If all else failed, the mercs would infiltrate the place from the basement, flushing him out that way.

I moved past it all. Not putting much stock into it. Not caring. Not needing to care. All I had to do was get Archangel out of here before the mercs could deploy any of those things. If the rest of the team were here, and we had to fight our way out with him, then that would've been different.

I would still need to come up with a way to sneak Archangel out of here. Or fight alongside him myself.

It didn't take me long to find his hideout, anyway.

Following the direction of even more gunfire, I spotted a long bridge past the man-made barricades. Across the bridge was a single loft house rising up a few floors. Like an island in the middle of the district, the building existed there at a steep drop from the rest of the station. Beyond, those ethereal lights from the rest of Omega shone on as makeshift sunrays, brightening the view, for me to make sure:

Along the second floor, I spotted the lone person defending himself there.

Turian-shaped helmet.

Blue and black armor.

Popping off headshots with a sniper rifle from his perch, like it was all a sport. Child's play.

That methodical aim at each of the mercs here behind the barricades, and out on the bridge—

And this feeling that he somehow sensed me here, invisible as I was to everyone else around me—

I could have sworn Archangel nearly aimed at me through his scope, through his helmet. Getting a better look. Maybe even finding the faint glimmer of my cloak, shining in Omega's manufactured light. But he didn't fire. He didn't shoot at me, not once. He would only take out some vorcha nearby, blood spattering along the barricade, along another wall. Then he would take cover, just to reload, before starting right back up again.

Even the booming sounds from his shots almost sounded like the ones from my old Spectre-grade gun.

Possessed by this feeling of familiarity, I made my way across the bridge.

The rest of the mercs around me fell one by one. Headshots bursting from within their helmets, they collapsed to the ground. I stepped over them or around them. I walked past them. I ignored the growing cacophony of panic from the mercs as they realized Archangel wasn't getting tired at all. They were bound to send in that YMIR mech, or that gunship at some point soon enough.

I needed to figure out an exit plan, fast.

Just as quickly, I saw the answer all around me. Inside the housing area itself, I spotted all the dead mercs lying around. Scattered along the floor, doubled-over the broken windowsills, and ragdolling across the furniture, they each bled from a single gunshot wound. Clean and simple. Crumpled over one of the leather couches was one particular turian from the Blue Suns, shot straight through the chest instead of through the helmet. With a little added creativity, that was our ticket out of here.

For now, I went upstairs.

I uncloaked as I passed through the door, finding Archangel along his sniper's perch. Right as a lull started with the mercs' assault. No doubt they were about to send in their worst—any minute now. We didn't have much time.

Pausing in this contemplation, Archangel stood up from where he was. Retreating back from his vantage point, he turned to face me. Filled with that same feeling of familiarity.

I addressed him with this feeling, "Archangel?"

He removed his helmet.

When he did, I found such old, pained emotions in him, rising back to the surface.

Garrus stared at me as if I were a ghost.

I stared right back at him. Seeing a two-year continuance from my death. Spotting what had no doubt brought this out in him: this near-hateful miasma clouding his eyes. So much change. So much devastation. So much frustration. Some of it dissolved in this moment. As much as he found me here, alive again, I sensed his loss. As if something in him had died back then, even if he was still alive now.

Not nearly the same smooth-talking, former C-Sec officer I remembered from before.

"Shepard…"

Even his voice had scarred through those filters of his. Distorting his smoothness just a little more.

Hardened as his scales, sharpened as his mandibles—his idealism had no doubt warped into this ruthlessness.

I questioned him anyway, "Garrus, what are you doing here?"

Suddenly ashamed, as if he took my tone for a scolding one, Garrus lowered his head. "All this time…I would imagine you asking me that same question. I never had an answer for you. I still don't. I'm sorry." He spotted the mechanical movements in my eyes. "You have your optical camera on. Through your omni-tool. I take that to mean you're not alone here. Not really. Is your team watching us right now?"

"Yes," I said. "I'm here to recruit you for my team. We're taking down the Collectors. Heard of them?"

Garrus seemed to lose his nerve. "I… Yeah, I've heard of them all right."

When he turned away, I knew what this was about.

He didn't want to expose himself to everyone watching. His pride naturally wouldn't allow it.

His longing to speak to me again overcame all else.

Even still, this razor-sharp change about him had me on-edge.

"Garrus, we can't do this here. There's no time. The mercs are losing their patience with you. We have to get out of this place. I have a plan for you to sneak out of here with me. We'll head back to the _Normandy_ together. You can join the team again. Leave all of this behind. It'll be just like old times."

Latching onto my authority, he responded, "Understood, Commander. Awaiting your orders."

Turning off his thoughts, his emotions, to grab onto me this way, even metaphorically:

I understood where his mind had gone. And that it needed to be here. Otherwise, he couldn't function.

I gave my orders: "There's a dead Blue Suns merc downstairs. Put his armor on as a disguise. Put your current armor on him, on the corpse. When the rest of the mercs come back, they'll find 'you', and assume that you're dead. From there, blend with the crowd and leave. I'll follow you the whole way."

"Okay, I'll do it. Lead on."

Garrus did exactly as I said. Down to the word. Down to the letter. _Needing_ to do this. Desperately so.

Covering the gunshot wound with the merc's gun, he was able to fool everyone just fine. We escaped back across the bridge together. Like nothing happened. Blending through the mercs' oblivious victory laps over this deception, Garrus passed through the base of operations. Even as his grip tightened over that gun, he otherwise gave nothing away. No one had any reason to suspect him. Or to question him at all. Unrecognizable face already hidden from behind that white helmet, Garrus was one of them. For the time being. I followed him to that end, as we reached that group of cars, still opened and unattended to.

I drove us back to where we needed to go. Through this beaming light in the skies, guiding us onward.

Garrus stayed silent the whole time.

Aside from his not-so-subtle glances in my direction every so often, he found his own invisibility.

Even though I had forbidden them from saying anything, the team seemed unnerved. Joker most of all. He understood what Garrus felt right now. I could only imagine the conversation they would have soon.

As concerned as I was about him, Garrus needed to know the truth.

Just before we reached the ship, I told the others to meet us in the debriefing room.

Joker, of course, stayed in his seat at the helm. Waiting for us.

Garrus almost didn't react once he saw him again.

When their eyes met, they had that non-verbal understanding. Confirming what they had discussed over the years—about the past, about the drama. About the possible lies and the rest. All true.

Scarred by this silent confirmation, Garrus stiffened himself more. Steeled.

Joker consoled him, "Hey, we'll go over it later on. It's good to have you back. Hang in there, all right?"

"Sure," replied Garrus. Stilted. "Thanks, Joker."

He walked a little behind me. Onto the debriefing room. I noticed him looking around. Taking everything in. Not appearing to object to these Cerberus changes, these Cerberus dealings. Purely focused on me—Garrus couldn't begin to object. He couldn't fathom any objection whatsoever.

For my sake, he made himself pay more attention during the debriefing. Garrus remained attentive as Miranda introduced herself, and the rest of the team. He only flinched once at her mention of being my second-in-command; otherwise, he gave nothing away about his mental state. His emotional state. By the time he learned what Legion was, Garrus had managed to control enough of his reactions. He only betrayed a natural question in his expression, wondering what Tali would think about this. And the memory of Tali, again, chained into something more for him. Remembering the rest of the team, too.

He seemed uncertain as he looked between Miranda and me. Maybe finding the same lightning that Mordin had mentioned. This odd, tangible manifestation of something more. Unwavering, even now.

I chanced asking him, "So, did you want to share what you were up to out there?"

Garrus bristled. "Not now, Shepard. Maybe we could talk about it alone. Some other time."

Mordin in particular picked up on Garrus' mood, frowning in worry.

Zaeed hummed in a mood of his own. Finding the legend of Archangel not quite matching up to the person himself.

"We'll do that, then," I allowed. "I'll let you read the reports about the Collectors, about the mission."

Garrus accepted the new task. The new routine. The new change of pace, without question.

I remembered my routine, too, and offered my hand to him.

"Welcome back to the team, Garrus."

He shook my hand, firm and needing in his echoing tremble. "Thanks, Commander. Happy to be back."

"If you're up for it, I want you to be our gunnery officer. Keep the main guns in top shape. Should be better than dealing with the Mako like you did before."

Garrus affirmed, "You can count on me. I'll get started right away if you need me to."

"You don't have to do that," I advised. "Take a few days to get settled in first. Whenever you're ready to talk, let me know, and I'll come find you." Garrus nodded in affirmation; I addressed the whole group: "We'll head for the Citadel next. I have to speak to the Council about a few things. After that, we can find something to do. Pass the time for a while. Until then, you all know what to do. Everyone, dismissed."


	32. Dark Star

_"You Are Here" by Jhené Aiko_

**XXXII.** Dark Star

_(Shepard)_

Entranced in this trance of mine, staring at the entrance to my room, I stayed sprawled out on my bed.

Entryways as beginnings—how wonderful it would've been for Miranda to come in here in my private cabin. Even though she didn't have permission. Even though I kept withholding that permission, obliquely, in other ways. Still staying quiet. Still not quite telling her how I felt; how I didn't feel. Curling up enough to fold my arms, glossing over this bareness, sleeveless of this tank of mine, feeling entirely fragile. As if all I had to do was shift my sweats the wrong way and I would feel the friction itself as excess heat against my skin. Too sensitive. Too aware. Hyper-awareness of my skin, so cold without her.

Sultry heat thrummed through my ears. Keeping my headphones on, my music on. Trying to think my way out of this had gone nowhere. Feeling through this with someone else's words, drifting through these atmospheres, I could relate to it all. Mirroring, reinforcing, validating. I needed someone else to speak on these same anxieties, of hoping that this fixation of mine wouldn't leave me heartbroken.

Blacklight of my room, bluer lights from my aquarium lighting more: I had stared out at this half-dark space for what felt like days. Days it had been since picking up Garrus, giving him this time to get settled in. Mere hours more now until we arrived at the Citadel to speak with the Council. I had vague plans to scope out the stores down in the Wards, to pick up some star charts or whatever else. Getting caught up on the current year. Trying to find my place in the galaxy again after I had seemingly lost myself now.

Miranda's mirages in my mind felt entirely real.

As if I could have reached out and held her body in my hands, finally feeling her all the way. Those teases I'd had of her in that nightdress of hers, they weren't enough. Shallow and vain and all, I latched onto Miranda's beauty as a mark of my own meaning. That shape of Miranda in this perfect imperfection, of all her hesitations and worries and anxieties and insecurities, outlining her more—no one else could have existed in such a beautiful space, marred by the same life experiences, and turned out as indelible as she had grown to be for me. More beautiful because I beheld her; more irresistible because I'd held her; more worthy of my persistent obsessions because she would never give up on us.

No matter what I did, I knew that she would always be there. And so I had lost my way. Starting over.

Never quite on even footing with her, I didn't know where I was. What to say to her. How to act.

Staying here in bed, lying here, away from her, was all I could do.

Distracted at best, unfocused at worst—I worried about how things would go during this mission. I'd already had to improvise too much the other day with Garrus, with getting him out of his hideout. I almost didn't trust myself to make the best choices now. I was too focused on being around Miranda; getting away from Miranda; protecting Miranda from anyone attacking her. Always prioritizing her.

Running my trembling hands through my hair, I had to face this possible reality:

The reality that I probably liked Miranda _too much._

Already.

Because I couldn't stop thinking about going down to find her. I knew she was in her office. I knew she was busy with work right at this moment.

Knowing her more, I wanted to go down on her. I wanted to know if she liked it from me. I wanted to see if she would stop caring about the mess and let me do this for her. I needed Miranda to be a fucking mess over me. I needed to be on top of her still, learning her body and her sounds and what she liked, what turned her on, and how to own her. Anything to please her. Anything to be that deep inside of her.

Anything to help me get my power back. Some of it. Any of it. A single shred.

I needed her to go weak for me. I needed to hear her, exactly like that. I needed to give her whatever she needed to be that, to live that, to breathe that—for me and only me.

Even in this burst of imagination, craving this sex with her, I had to rein myself in.

Drugged as I was by this thought of her gripping my back like that, I had to stop inhaling this imagery.

I had to, even with these echoes of my name by her voice, begging me to stay in this moving image. Beseeching me to indulge in this sweeping feeling in my stomach, warmed and heated and aroused in this endless vision. Begging more for me to remember my promises; to be _everything_ for her, honorably.

Trying to focus on something else, anything else, I pulled up the dossiers for the team. After we were done on the Citadel, it would be time to go recruit someone else. Tali had let me know that she would be ready in a couple of more days. So, until then, I figured we could pick up one more person. For some reason, this Subject Zero person kept standing out to me. For both good reasons and bad ones. They were a powerful biotic vanguard—and a violent criminal with a past I didn't agree with at all. These old ties to white supremacist cults back on Earth had me wary. But I knew that plenty of people only joined cults like these for a sense of belonging. Not necessarily to align themselves with those extreme ideals.

Jack sounded the same.

Needing somewhere to belong after such a rough childhood. Lonely and lost. Never wanting to admit it.

So, in that sense, I sympathized.

I decided we would go pick up Jack tomorrow from the prison ship, _Purgatory._

I just hoped that I wouldn't regret this choice.

Besides, the only other person who sounded useful was the krogan scientist, Okeer, to help Mordin out. But, like with Omega, the situation had changed after all this time. He was apparently dead now. We had waited too long to go get him from his lab on Korlus. So we'd have to move on without him.

Right when I thought I might've had a handle on things, my omni-tool went off with an email alert.

This message threw me back into my feelings all over again:

_From: Miranda – Recordings._

_Shepard,_

_I've attached one of my scenes with Jacob. One of many. This one is rather tame. Safe. It's a fine start._

_Separate from that, I needed to write to you anyway. You've been rather distant—again—since we left Omega behind. I wish you would tell me if I made a mistake the other night. Was I too forward? It's difficult to tell. Whether I'm direct or I give you your space, it seems that your mood won't change. I understand that we're supposed to be taking our time together. That is the standard I set for us. Yet I can't help but feel that you're keeping a lot from me. I wish you would tell me how you actually feel._

_I suppose I'll just have to follow your lead on this. If we're to be detached for the time being, then that is what we will be. Waxing poetic about our feelings doesn't seem to be our strong suit. Nonetheless, I wanted to give you something to hold onto. I had to try, at least. So please hear me out._

_You are always on my mind, Shepard. No matter what I'm doing. No matter how I'm feeling, you are there. You're here with me. These days, I often think about having you in my arms. Holding your head close to my chest. Nurturing you this way. Letting you know that everything will be all right. As much as I might say the words to you, for you to hear them, I need to give you this act. I need to know that you're doing well. I need to make certain that you're safe and sound. It's such a visceral feeling for me. We've hinted around this before. Perhaps we'll keep hinting about this until we finally act on it. Vaguely._

_I brought you back. You are in my image, in a way. I want to take care of you, just as you take care of me. I long for you to know me completely, as only you can, in my image. You can assume why I'm like this. There are certain things I simply couldn't escape from my upbringing. Yet it's brought us together._

_Regardless of whosoever's gaze I was originally intended for, I only wish to be beheld by you. However you regard me, I hope that I'm up to your standards. I want to be perfect enough for you. I want to be reliable enough for you. I want to come alive under your gaze, every day, as I did when we first met._

_I need to be locked to you. Someday. Completely. Whenever you're ready to take that next step._

_-Miranda_

.

_To: Miranda – Re: Recordings._

_Miranda,_

_Thanks for the scene. I'll watch it after I send this reply to you._

_You're right that I'm not telling you everything. You know enough about me by now. I have to figure this out on my own. I'm not the best at talking about my feelings. I appreciate you telling me about all of this._

_I don't want you to stop. I need to know what you need. It's turning into a craving of mine._

_I guess, maybe, I might be kind of shy around you. I'm really distancing myself from the possibility. I know I don't look any different. I always have this seriousness about me. I don't want you to worry about my moods, though. If you need me for anything, I would still drop whatever I'm doing to tend to you. Because I get it. I can assume why you're like this. You already know why I want these longings from you. Your expectations. As perfect as you are, you did remake me in your image. You have certain privileges._

_You're giving me what I never had before. Exactly what I've always needed. I'll forever be grateful for that. I'm only going through some growing pains right now, that's all. You're not doing anything wrong. I just need some time. As soon as I'm ready, I'll ask you to be mine. That won't ever change. I promise you._

_I can make this promise because of how this feels. You already showed me who you are when you earned my loyalty. When you saved me. I believed you the first time. You know me; you believe me. We're good._

_-Shepard_

.

Even though Miranda didn't respond to me, she still read my message right away—I saw that identifier under the body of my email. Showing the exact hour, the exact minute, the exact second when she'd laid eyes on my words. Mere seconds after I'd sent it out. Immediately, slowed only by the natural quickness her hand needed to interact with her omni-tool in time. I hoped she would get my reference toward the end of my message.

Another saying I liked to follow, following my first impressions of others, and how I wanted to know who they were at their worst:

_When someone shows you who they are, believe them the first time._

No filters whatsoever—Miranda had done nothing but show me exactly the woman she was, constantly.

Even in her eagerness to read my email in an instant, I found her character brimming for me, always.

Miranda's quiet, reserved obsessions for me kept this trance of mine going.

Stronger and harder: I opened the attachment she sent, with this feeling she gave me.

As I pressed play on this recording—dated in January of last year—I saw the very beginnings of the feeling she had given to Jacob, too.

Low near the floor of this clean, sterile bedroom on Lazarus Station, the view of this camera angle was off-center. Artistic, in a way. Purposeful. Capturing Jacob near the upper-right of the screen as he knelt upon the floor. Muscled, shirtless, the luster of his skin shined in the bright white of this room. Bulging already from beneath the taut tightness of his black boxer briefs. Blindfolded, I could only see the anxious smirk by his thick lips, his face apparently handsome enough from what was visible. Military-shortness of his cropped hair, he kept his head down. Wrists tied behind his back, presumably. Waiting.

Waiting with his back to the door, red lock aglow.

Waiting for his Mistress to show up.

When Miranda did enter the room, her heeled boots announced her arrival more so than the shifting sounds of the door. But not from her Domme outfit. She only had on her Cerberus uniform, the black and midnight blue of her leather the same as the one she wore today. Probably to avoid detection out in the halls with the rest of their Cerberus staff, coworkers, and colleagues. Jacob smirked more as he heard her arrival; listened to her go off to the side of the room, out of the camera's view. Breathing harder, he seemed to pick up on the sounds of Miranda using the holo-closet to change into her desired outfit.

Then, the lights dimmed.

Graying to dark, the room mellowed out just enough. Just enough to still let me see Jacob's form. Just enough to make the shine of Miranda's stretch leather stand out more once she re-entered the frame.

Taller, thinner stiletto heels lengthened her legs, her stride, thigh-highs rising supreme.

Teases of her thighs thickened at the top of those highs, fit and formed, fair skin illuminated in the dark.

Taut and tight, this corset clutched her torso and boosted her breasts, propped and primed in her allure. The shine of that hard black material shone on in subtlety, never outshining her face. The absolute craft of her beauty, scowling in seriousness. The metal of her eyes, blued and imbued in steel and composure. The dark of her hair sleek and slick, down past her bare shoulders, shaped in slender strength and ability.

Crossing over to Jacob, Miranda moved in such patience and calculation. Staring him down from behind.

Blindfolded, facing forward and all, Jacob's skin pebbled all the more as he sensed her iced observations.

 _"How quaint,"_ sneered Miranda. _"I haven't said a word yet, and here you are. Shivering with anticipation. Your imagination must be getting the better of you."_ She grabbed the curve of his skull, manicured nails latching onto the crop of his haircut. Jacob groaned deep in his throat, rolling with the motion of Miranda moving his head. _"Then again, I'd rather you have an active imagination. I'd hate to think that you're just that simple. Able to get aroused by anything. You're still getting ahead of yourself."_

Jacob chuckled. _"I could be, yeah."_

_"I don't remember saying you could speak."_

_"I don't remember you saying I couldn't—"_

Miranda pushed his head forward, hard enough to make him lean forward. _"You're going to regret this, Jacob. I recommend stopping while you're ahead."_ When Jacob only chuckled again, Miranda made a point: making him bend more, she lodged her heel around his neck, forcing him down to the floor. _"I don't appreciate this. At all. You know I don't, and you continue to do it anyway."_ Putting more pressure, she made Jacob grunt out in a pleasured pain, his tied hands flexing just over his back. _"I didn't come here to have you waste my time with your childish games. If all you wanted were punishments, you could have told me ahead of time."_ Measured and precise, she specified: _"You may speak now. To respond."_

Struggling beneath the might of her boot, Jacob ground out, _"You know me, Ma'am… Always pushing my luck with you. Needing to see what I can get away with… Besides, it's not a punishment if I want it!"_

_"That's what you think."_

Whipping her hand out off to the side, Miranda's arm glowed a biotic blue and white, dark energy coalescing around her clawed fingers.

Lashing out from her palm, a biotic whip appeared, thin, flexible, and elongated; shaped as a traditional leather tail whip. Black leather replaced with biotic blue, she nonetheless wielded the whip all the same.

Tail whipping out over the floor in warning, that biotic cracking sound shook Jacob in place. Still suffering beneath Miranda's boot, beneath Miranda's powerful stance, he could only listen. Listening as she wrapped the whip around her wrist a few times. More tightness, more control. Miranda then brought the whip down again, cracking it near Jacob's head. Cracking his own control, more. Making him let out the tightest of hisses from the suddenness, the shock of it all. Yet the skin over his back continued to pebble more, the shivering from his anticipation growing and growing—as much as _he_ did, in between, bent over and bulging more beneath his boxer briefs, harder and thicker by the second.

 _"Go on, Jacob,"_ incited Miranda, sneering more. _"Tell me why I should bother. Why I should give you what you want. What you so desperately crave. So much so that you would attempt to manipulate me into hurting you like this."_

Blowing out his breaths, over and over, as if physically working out, Jacob responded, _"Because we both need this. You know we do… You've been way too caught up in your stress these days. Over the project. Over the commander, your feelings for her… You can't deny it—"_

Miranda cracked the whip over his ass, _hard,_ exploding his words into screams.

_"Don't you dare make this about me. That isn't what I asked for."_

She gave Jacob a moment to compose himself. To stop screaming. To breathe, even with her boot on his neck. When it looked like he was okay again, she emphasized:

_"Answer me properly this time."_

_This time,_ Jacob complied. _"Ma'am, you're beautiful. You're irresistible. I want to know that I can take it from you. That I'm enough of a man to deal with whatever you dish out. I need…to be strong enough."_

Miranda didn't seem to believe him. _"And if that's true, you could have been more upfront. Before."_

Back to the games: _"C'mon, and miss out on this chance? I gotta make you work for it first."_

_"As I suspected. What a foolish little boy you are. You never know when to stop."_

For the rest of the recording, Miranda spent most of the time denying Jacob what he wanted. Not once did she give in and whip him again and again as he craved. She made him beg for it. She took her boot off from his neck and made him worship her instead: kissing that black, down at the tip and up to the heights of her highs. Not letting him go any further than that to reach her skin. Never untying his wrists to let him touch her, either. Constantly breaking him into submission, deeper and deeper as the hour passed.

Never giving in—Miranda never took her stress out on Jacob, either. Her restraint acted as a release in and of itself. Holding herself back when she could have unleashed her anger on him, going overboard in that cold, cold sadism of hers: this appeared to calm her enough. Restoring enough of her vitality. That exchange validated Jacob's feeling of security with her. He submitted to her more, obedience growing.

By the time the recording was over—their aftercare edited out—I didn't know where I was anymore.

This burning afterimage of Miranda's body in that outfit, it remained in my mind. Heating over my eyes. Repeating itself whenever I blinked, as hot as the sun against my eyelids. Her attitude throughout that entire scene heated everything more, searing right down between me. I kept on twisting what I just saw.

I wanted Miranda in that same corset, those same boots, twisting her dynamic.

I wanted Miranda underneath me in that same coldness, twisting it around.

I wanted to fuck her exactly like that, twisting her body beneath me.

I needed her to wrap those boots around my waist while I fucking railed her, finally claiming her myself.

Thoughtless and crass, I changed into the strap-on I wanted. Contradicting this filth in my mind, I escaped into the shower. Rinsing off what I couldn't clean away, pointless, this point stayed firm in my hand the whole time I spent thinking about Miranda, getting off to her. Jacking off in this rush, this heated friction, misting more in the heat of this water beating down on me. Beating off to the way I needed to ram into her, fucking her out of control. Ripping her control away. Tearing her composure down. Clawing her coldness into a hot, whimpering helplessness instead, screaming out my name.

As much as I forced myself to stay against the wall of this shower stall, I imagined Miranda here.

Right in front of me.

Holding her thighs up and open, gripping her for leverage; thrusting in and out, nonstop as she wanted.

Grunting out over her skin, her neck—doubling this echo of Miranda's voice in my head, how I kept imagining her shouting for more, begging for it. Panting for it. Pushing me for it, engorged of me.

Somehow, my hand was enough of an illusion: pretending to _be her,_ pulling me in. Sucking me in. Absorbing me in wetness and in heat. Never letting me go. All wrapped up in my palm, my fingers as Miranda herself, inside of her, completely. Twisting my dominance into full-on subservience, pleasing.

These mirages of her sounds were enough to get me off—how many times, I didn't know. I'd lost track.

Even once I stepped out, straightening my hair again, I wanted to go back in. I wanted to keep going. I wanted Miranda to want me, just like that, and to act on it. But it was too soon. Way too soon for any of that. Way too early for me to tear her walls down, goading that submissiveness out of her. _So weak._

Absent-minded, I put on my Alliance fatigues without remembering to take this strap off.

Leaving it on as a reminder of my needs. My needs that I couldn't do anything else about. Not yet.

By the time I returned to my room, I still didn't know what to do with myself.

An unexpected email nearly threw me off more:

_From: Aria – Omega._

_Shepard,_

_I'm almost disappointed. You didn't come pay me another visit like you said you would. Then again, maybe I should be grateful. You found what you needed. I heard about Archangel. Unfortunately, I wouldn't have had much information for you. Beyond telling you to follow the mercs, that is. Sounds like they were too cowardly to take me out themselves. I'm dealing with this new problem. More effectively._

_You could say I'm surprised. Surprised that I'm disappointed. Almost disappointed. You found me during an awkward, vulnerable time. Not only did you succeed in helping me, you also revealed the flaws in my own system. Clearly, I'm not the best at asking anyone for help. Least of all when I need it most. I could tell that you didn't appreciate this about me. As noble as you are, you've given me a lot to think about._

_Why am I telling you any of this? Well, I figured you deserved to know. It's not every day that I run into someone like you. That scowl of yours has been on my mind. For the record, I don't care whose hand you were holding while you came to see me. You could say I've discovered a new hobby with your photos and vids over the extranet. I can see how you used to make a living like this. You were an excellent model._

_You and I will talk again. Differently, next time. I'm sure of it._

_I owe you._

_-Aria_

I caught the real meaning behind all of this. Behind her words. Her choices. Her intent in flirting with me.

As fine as Aria was—powerful, sexy, authoritative—I knew better than to reciprocate. I replied to her without _acknowledging_ anything.

Miranda would lose her mind if she ever found out what Aria was up to.

EDI spoke to me, "Shepard, Garrus would like to speak with you. He is currently at the main battery."

"Thanks, EDI," I replied.

By now, I knew that Garrus was aware of the whole story, just as Mordin and Zaeed knew by now, too—everything from the past, from after I had died, and the truth of what had happened in San Diego back then. Along with how I'd dealt with the problem more recently. I had done my best to not speak with Garrus prematurely, before he was ready. The two of us had never been all that close before. But these days, seeing how much he leaned on my leadership, I couldn't help regretting how distant we were. So I headed downstairs to the crew deck, to the main battery with these feelings of mine, needing to be the best leader that I could— _better_ —for Garrus' sake.

* * *

When I arrived to Garrus' new work station at the _Normandy's_ main guns, I found him at the console right by the door. Working on these calibrations had kept him focused over the past few days. He'd discarded that Blue Suns disguise in favor of another copy of his same blue and black armor I'd found him in before. Seemingly back to normal, Garrus had been pretty productive in here based on the reports he'd sent over to me. Even more productive than he had been back on the SR-1. Throwing himself into his work. More so after learning the truth behind everything that had gone down before.

Now that I was here, he slowed down. He stopped working.

Placing his hands along the edges of the console, Garrus leaned his weight there. Head bowed. Thinking.

"Garrus," I said, standing just off to the side. "EDI let me know you wanted to talk. You doing okay?"

His voice rang hollow: "Honestly? I'm not so sure about that. Either way, I'm glad you stopped by."

Glancing at the _Normandy's_ equipment, I tried making small talk, "How are you liking the new guns?"

"They definitely pack a punch," he noted. "These torpedoes can shred just about anything. Though I wouldn't mind upgrading to the Thanix cannons when we get a chance. They're a turian design. Based on Sovereign's beams. We'd essentially have a mini-Reaper mounted to the _Normandy's_ main hull."

"Sure, we can do that. Send me a copy of the schematics and I'll put in an order for the upgrade."

"Will do. Thanks, Commander."

Silence again.

Contemplation, again.

I looked around the room once again. Finding a bench on the nearby wall. I could have sat down there.

Instead, I leaned against the wall nearest to the door. The long length of the _Normandy's_ targeting systems funneled out in front of me, in front of Garrus, extending on and on. Not so roomy, we only had so many places to stand. So many places to avoid one another. Briefly avoiding the truth, until now:

"Garrus, if there's anything you wanted to tell me—now's the time. I'm here. What's on your mind?"

"Well, I think I'm ready to face the obvious," he chanced. "I was out there on Omega for two reasons. One, I was running away from my anger. Hatred. How I couldn't stand Ashley for what she had done. Even though I had no proof at the time. None of us did. A lot of it felt like blind speculation. It frustrated me. I wanted to confront her. I wanted to make her pay. For betraying Liara. For betraying you. For betraying us all and having the nerve to _lie_ about it. The others kept telling me not to. I ended up drifting away from them. Resenting them for holding me back, even though their reasons made perfect sense. I wasn't thinking about _sense_ anymore. That led me to heading my own squad of vigilantes. For a time."

"Were you trying to make up for that injustice? With Ash."

"Yeah," said Garrus, as if the idea had never occurred to him before. "Yeah…I guess I was."

"What gave you the idea in the first place? How'd you get started with everything?"

"I'd heard stories about how bad the crime was out on Omega. How it seemed like no one really cared about the citizens. Not even Aria. After I dropped my training to become a Spectre, I took the first flight out to the Terminus Systems and landed on the space station. I didn't have a plan at first. I was just…wandering around. Observing the markets, usually. Listening to the constant news stories about you, about your legacy. Wishing I could see you one more time. That's when I ran into another turian. She recognized me from your team. We hit it off and started talking about crime and reform. That's when she pitched the idea about starting a group of our own to get back at Omega's lawless mercs."

A female turian?

I wondered for a moment if this was that same woman who'd stalked us on Omega the other day.

That would've been…an interesting coincidence.

I asked instead, "What was her name?"

"Nyreen," recalled Garrus. "Nyreen Kandros… She runs the Talons, a local merc gang protecting Omega from the worst types of domestic crimes. A lot of them run undercover as part of the station's militia police. Mostly to keep an eye on whatever Aria's up to. But the Talons were bottlenecked, in a way. They couldn't act openly against the other merc groups, or Aria herself, or they risked getting wiped out. So, Nyreen figured we could have our own little anonymous offshoot. Handle the bigger jobs that way…"

I noticed how Garrus' tone had changed, in discussing Nyreen. How he seemed almost—timid.

I wondered, "Were you and Nyreen ever involved together?"

Mandibles twitching, Garrus replied, "…I wanted to be with her. Never told her that. I think she knew."

"Why? What was the problem?"

"I wouldn't say there was a _problem,"_ he emphasized. "She and I got along great. We were both idealists. Always wanting to help out the little people. The ones who got left behind. We were also bad turians, bucking our rule-following society to bend the rules, and bring justice to Omega. And she was a beauty… Plus, she was—older than me. More experienced. I never let that get in the way of things. Didn't take long for me to realize I was attracted to her. I asked her out on a date. We went for drinks."

"Did she know it was a date? Like that?"

"I don't know… We were both lonely at the time. Ended up drunk. We kissed. Made out. I liked it a lot."

This sounded oddly promising anyway. "And then…?"

"And then…she sobered up. Apologized. Confessed that that was the first time she had kissed a man."

"Oh."

Garrus sighed. "I tried to be a good sport about it. She could tell I was heartbroken. We…cooled off after that. Went our separate ways. It was too awkward for us to stick around. Didn't help that she also confessed about her last girlfriend. Her longest relationship. The one she's still hung-up on to this day."

"Don't tell me… Was it Aria?"

"Sure was," he confirmed.

"Small world."

"You can say that again. It wouldn't have bothered me that much if Nyreen hadn't pushed me into making that team of ours. The more I looked back on it, the more it seemed like she had an agenda. To get back at Aria somehow. Maybe not as a scorned lover. Clash of governing ideals. She hated that Aria wasn't doing enough for the citizens. I'm not clear on what her endgame was. There was _something."_

I'd have to keep this in mind the next time I spoke with Aria, then.

Garrus continued on, "Anyway, after all that, I partnered up with someone else instead, to help me lead the group. One of my team leaders, Sidonis, fit the bill at the time. Another turian, again. There were about a dozen of us. We did good work, sabotaging illegal merc operations and taking out the most corrupt gang leads. For Nyreen's sake, I never stepped on Aria's toes. Not directly. Didn't want to fall into that trap. But Sidonis wanted us to take Aria out, make a name for ourselves. Gain notoriety. Safe to say we disagreed. I should have known he'd betray me by then. I was too distracted to see the signs…"

Repeating old trauma. Betrayals. No wonder. "What happened after that?"

"Sidonis led me away from our hideout. Then, while I was gone, he ordered a hit on everyone left behind. This happened right as the plague started getting worse. I had no choice but to go into hiding, to keep from getting sick. The whole time I was underground, I stewed over the betrayal. Hating Sidonis for stabbing me in the back the way he did. He started spreading rumors that I planned on assassinating Aria for her terrible handling of the plague. That's when I found the Blood Pack, Blue Suns, and Eclipse knocking down my door. I was isolated."

"In that case, did you plan on killing her anyway? Did I interrupt you?"

"I considered it. I _really_ did. But I couldn't go through with it. Figured I'd die out there holding my ground. While I sniped from my vantage point, I kept wondering about everything that had led me up to that moment. Everything that had gone wrong. I imagined you scolding me over it. Then you found me."

Maybe the Illusive Man was right about me being some kind of archangel.

First for Miranda, then Garrus. Probably for other people, too.

I remembered, "You said you were out there on Omega for two reasons. What was the second one?"

Garrus finally looked at me in-earnest and said, "I was trying to find _you,_ Commander. Doing what I thought might make you proud. Living in your footsteps. Needing you to actually…notice me, I guess."

All those times I'd sensed Garrus longing for my friendship before—at last, they caught up with me now.

I could have questioned his judgment. Grilling him on why he thought I'd approve of that old life of his.

In his apprehension, Garrus wanted to look away from me. Fearing that scolding he'd imagined earlier.

As lost as he still was, I felt him continuing to lean on me. On my leadership. Needing me in this way.

So all I said was, "Garrus, I'm proud of you. I notice you. I see you. I appreciate having you here again."

Shutting his eyes, looking away: Garrus breathed harder, once, as he took in my words. Truly, as if he'd needed to hear them for years. For longer than he'd known me, even. Whoever else he'd needed to hear them from—his hardline father, his previous superiors—they didn't seem to matter anymore. Only I did. Only my opinion got through to him. I wasn't sure why I was so important to him. _This_ important.

Important enough to make him emotional like this.

Garrus composed himself anyway, muttering, "Thanks, Shepard. It means a lot to hear that from you."

"You bet," I replied. "Think you'll be okay from here on out? Or do you still need to talk?"

"I'll get my head back on soon enough. I just need some time, that's all. Helps that we're almost at the Citadel. I could do with a little R&R. After we talk to the Council, that is. Get your Spectre status reinstated. It'll be good to see Anderson again."

"Agreed. I'm sure we can all find something to do afterward. Hang out somewhere. I'll keep an eye out."

Right as I was about to leave, I stopped.

Garrus seemed to want to say something else. One last thing. Needing one final reassurance.

Facing the door, I asked him, "What is it?"

Pained, Garrus wanted to know, "Is it all right—that I still miss Liara? I mean, after everything…"

"Yes, it is. I miss her, too."

"Okay… That helps to know. I can stop feeling guilty about it. I'll see you a little later on, then."

"Sure thing. See you in a bit, Garrus."

Once I left the main battery, heading back to the mess hall, I figured I'd make the rounds. Speak to everyone on the team so far. Just to see how they were doing. Something I'd never done back on the SR-1—aside from the night right before Ilos, to check on the team individually. I supposed there was no harm in doing that more often. Making it a regular thing instead of only doing it once every blue moon.

This was something I needed to get better at, anyway. Miranda had stressed how important it was.

I made my way to the med bay first, passing through to get to the AI Core, where Legion was. Dr. Chakwas wasn't in here at her desk. She must have been busy reading in her room.

Within the dark red of the core, blues cooling from EDI's hardware all around, I found Legion in its usual spot at the end of the room. Standing there, completely still. Busy with something beyond my reach, beyond my perception, yet still appearing to wait in motionlessness. It found me with a distinct awareness, as if coming back to life.

"Shepard-Commander," greeted Legion.

"Hey, Legion," I said. "Just checking up on you before we get to the Citadel. How's everything going?"

A bit confused, it responded, "Everything…is going well. We thank you for your inquiry."

I recalled, "You know, ever since we picked up Mordin, I've noticed something going on with you."

Legion tilted its head to one side. "Please specify."

"I'm sensing some tension between you and Miranda. Or am I wrong about that?"

"Tension. Disparities. Operator Lawson disagrees with our methods of questioning and discovery."

I translated, "Are you trying to get to know her better, and it's not landing well on her end?"

"Correct. Operator Lawson accused this platform of 'overanalyzing' her. We do not comprehend."

I smiled over the irony of it all. "Legion, I don't think interrogating Miranda about her thoughts and feelings is the best approach. Yeah, she does it to other people all the time. Especially me. It's not something that sits well with her. If you really want to know her, you should try being her friend first."

Legion admitted, "Proposing a friendship seems…unreliable. She is likely to decline our attempts."

"Well, why do you want to be her friend in the first place? Is it because the two of you are colleagues?"

"Operator Lawson's intellect and capabilities greatly exceed that of other organics. We understand her creation was intended to emulate an unattainable perfection. Geth also seek out perfection in our own ways. Our consensus with one another is a collective attempt to achieve this concept. The heretics have chosen one path to reach this goal by aligning themselves with the Old Machines. We have chosen another."

That made sense. "Is that the only reason?"

Gentle, Legion said, "You care for her."

"Yeah…I do."

"That reasoning is sufficient."

Even so, Legion still seemed out of its depth on this issue.

Before an awkward moment could pass, EDI's blue form appeared nearby. She asked, "May I interject?"

"Sure, EDI," I allowed. "What are you thinking?"

EDI shared, "I have also speculated on a possible friendship with Miranda. However, I concluded that this would be impossible. Her isolationist habits have made such possibilities quite inaccessible. I am uncertain if my observations have helped or hindered my chances at getting to know her better. On a more personal level, that is. It appears she merely views me as the _Normandy's_ AI. Not as a person."

Legion expressed, "We have made similar observations. It is…demoralizing. Discouraging."

I wondered if Miranda had any idea she'd attracted this kind of synthetic attention from EDI and Legion.

I had to know, "Well, EDI, have you tried being Miranda's friend at all?"

"I have not," replied EDI, sounding kind of sad. "I considered sending her an anonymous gift. Perhaps a digital collection of classical music, or other unearthed copies of your fashion magazines. However, I determined that this would be ineffective. Aside from your forays during Valentine's Day, Miranda has accumulated too many negative experiences with gift-giving. I felt this would have been insensitive."

The two of them seemed pretty stumped on this issue.

So I suggested, "You know, maybe you're both overthinking this. Give Miranda some time. She'll come around. You don't necessarily have to _do_ anything. If you bother her too much, you'll just turn her off."

Legion pondered, "If we do not take action, how will Operator Lawson know of our intentions?"

"Be there for her. That's all. She'll notice after a while. Then the three of you can have a real talk."

EDI approved, "That is a sound observation, Shepard. Thank you."

"Yes," agreed Legion. "We will change our priorities accordingly. We appreciate your assistance."

"All right. I'll leave you to it. I'll catch up with you both later."

"Understood," replied EDI.

"Acknowledged," said Legion.

As I left the AI Core, I got the distinct sense that Legion and EDI continued communicating with each other. Electronically, I guessed. It was probably more convenient for them to speak that way. I thought it was sweet that they cared so much. Considering other organics were way too intimidated by Miranda to be her friend, this was a nice change of pace. I could only hope that things worked out well for all of them.

Taking a chance, I headed over to Miranda's office next. Even though I knew she was busy with work, doing her best to finish everything before we reached the Citadel. I at least wanted to say hello to her.

At least that much, considering how crazy she'd made me earlier.

Not that I regretted it or anything…

Far from it.

My heart started hammering nonetheless as I entered her door, unlocked as it was. Unlocked as I was.

Stunning as ever in her poised unconcern, Miranda sat behind her desk, typing at her terminal. Busy working, as I'd suspected. Busy keeping her cool. But not so busy that she would send me right back off as soon as I'd arrived. She maintained her professionalism; her distance that she had mentioned in her email. Having judged that this was best. Having decided that this was the best way to stay controlled.

Even so, those roses I'd given her continued to populate the room in this scent, heady in their allure.

Constant reminders of contradictions.

"Commander," noted Miranda, glancing at me. Even-toned. Indifferent. "What can I do for you?"

I kept the eagerness out of my voice. Eager to see her, hear her. "Do you have a minute, Miranda?"

"There's a lot of work to do, Shepard. I'm nearly caught up with this. But it's nothing too involved…"

Miranda trailed off once she noticed something.

Something about me.

Something I had forgotten to take off.

Something I couldn't control around her. Not for long. Not at all.

Unable to hide this growing size between me, beneath my casual Alliance blues, I said nothing. No point in hiding this. It was way too late for that. Even as my face heated, I placed my wrists behind my back. Setting my shoulders back. Back straight. Setting my jaw; staying this way. Heating more from her stare.

Brow raised in a quiet intrigue, Miranda barely contained her smirk. Fully amused. Fully regaled by me.

Such a dark curiosity tinted her tone this time: "It seems you forgot to remove something, Commander… Did the thought slip your mind before you left your room?"

Unable to answer her, I kept on staring ahead.

Military-still.

Harder and harder—showing more and more, despite myself.

Her attention on me. Her accent. Her acute breaths between her words, her sentences, soft and easy:

Everything about her had me going in place.

Intrigued even more, Miranda said, "I must say, this is quite the surprise. But a welcome one, to be sure. You've given me an idea, actually. I'd like to make a request. If that's all right."

Stone-faced, serious, remembering my control—I asked her, "What request did you have in mind?"

"I'd like you to wear this for me more often. Not during missions, of course, since it would be…distracting. But I do enjoy this preview into your desires. There's no ambiguity whatsoever. No room for interpretation. It's right there, plain for me to see. Almost like a little shortcut. Well…" She laughed softly. "Certainly not _little._ Not in the slightest. I approve. You know I do."

Maintaining my stiffness—in every sense of the words—I responded, "All right. If that's what you want."

Miranda glanced down between me again. She adjusted her hands. She licked her lips.

Her gaze, her hands, her lips: she already knew where I needed them. Right this second.

"Yes," she breathed out. "That _is_ what I want. I'm glad to hear you acknowledge it. Just like this."

Miranda could have made this a lot worse for me.

She could have stood up and come over here. Touched me. Teased me. Pulling me under her control.

Even in her distant sort of teasing as she sat there, I couldn't help noticing the loveliness of her charm.

Her restraint spoke volumes, after all.

So I made her an offer, "Listen, why don't we continue this on the Citadel? I already told Garrus we could all go somewhere together after our meeting with the Council. I'd like to take you out again."

Smiling now, eyes sparkling in devotion—Miranda replied, "And I'd like that. Very much so. Thank you."

Somewhere far beneath the surface, I kept on hoping that she really was who she said she was. Who she had shown me so far over this month and more we had known each other. So much time flying by quickly, already.

Because if she wasn't…

Hardened as ever, I said, "I'll let you work."

Oblivious to my hoping, Miranda gave me her mischief, so sexy in subtlety: "Of course, Commander."

* * *

Heading up the elevator to the command deck, I used the brief time to cool off; to get back to my baseline. I knew I was tripping over Miranda. In a lot of ways. Too many ways. This new start with her still had me off-balance. All of this almost seemed too good to be true. Living in her vision like this, needing her like this; hoping like this, that she wouldn't destroy me someday, somehow. _She could have._

That coldness she had given to Jacob jumped to the forefront of my mind, sobering me.

Sobering, scaring.

Scarring me with the possibility that Miranda might choose to be like that with me at any time.

As sensitive as I could be, I worried too much about her hurting me—freezing me with that frost of hers.

I pushed down the last of these vulnerabilities as I reached the armory, finding Zaeed here. He stood in front of the terminal near one of the windows, hard at work. Once he spotted my approach, he stopped what he was doing, turning to face me properly.

"What's this?" teased Zaeed, arms folded. "Here to pay me a visit, are you?"

"Just checking in," I told him. "Seeing how you're doing. You settling in all right?"

"Sure am. Got myself a nice room down in the crew's quarters. Being a junior officer on a military frigate's not so bad. Wouldn't have minded staying in that starboard cargo space instead. Looked pretty roomy in there. Could've had more space to set out all my guns. Oh well."

Not wanting the reminder, I stated, "It's sealed off for good, Zaeed. I take it you know why by now."

Zaeed looked proud of himself—and of me. "You're goddamn right I do. It was a hell of a ride, reading that report Lawson sent over. Especially since she was involved with the whole thing. Her coming clean to your old team and making that switch right under the girl's nose? And you killed your girlfriend for being a terrible fucking liar. Executed her in that room. Brutal. No mercy. Now you and Lawson got your thing going together instead. I think it's brilliant!"

"Almost sounds like you respect Miranda more because of it. I noticed you stopped arguing with her."

"What, me and Lawson? Sure, I respect her all right. She's as stuck-up as they come, but I get her angle. Trying not to let her get under my skin. I'm old enough to be her goddamned father. Besides, if it wasn't obvious, I'm not used to being on a team. Not ones like this where the leader expects us all to get along. If I ever worked with anyone, it was a free-for-all. They did their thing and I did mine. _Real_ cooperation wasn't important."

"Even when you were part of the Blue Suns? I know you helped found the group twenty years ago."

"Yeah, that's right," sneered Zaeed. "Me and Vido Santiago. The two of us made a great team. He handled the books; I handled the men. We _disagreed_ once he wanted to start bringing batarians in to fill our ranks. Cheap labor, he said. Told him I didn't want any fucking terrorists with us. He wasn't having any of it. Made sure I got this nice little injury with my eye after that. Haven't seen him since then."

"I take it you're out for revenge with this contract of yours."

"Revenge… You could say that. Sounds almost too simple when you put it that way."

In his sudden reticence, I caught the real reasons behind Zaeed's aversions to teams. To getting along with other people. To understanding other beings. And yet here he was, serving with me anyway.

Whether he realized it or not, Zaeed had placed his trust in me—to not repeat the past.

Repeating the past, for both of us:

Having another soldier working in my armory. Putting their trust in me like this.

Zaeed noticed. "Looks like we've both got some demons in our past. Ain't that right, Shepard?"

"You've clearly done your research on me," I noticed, too. "Beyond reading that report, I mean."

"'Course I have. You're the one who put humanity on the map. I gotta say, your background's pretty unique. Stands out from almost everyone I've ever met. Tough kid from Earth's streets grows up to be the first human Spectre, powerful enough to take down a goddamn Reaper. Now you're leading this band of ours to take out the Collectors. Not something you hear about every day, that's for sure."

"If I'm honest, Zaeed, I'm surprised you respect me already. Regardless of what I've accomplished."

"Why, because I'm practically an old man compared to you?"

"No, not that," I insisted. "It's your personality. And mine. I figured we'd end up clashing."

"I get it," he agreed. "You're not one to put up with anyone's bullshit. Neither am I. Thing is, you're not full of shit, and I'm not, either. You've got plenty of clout for me to remember. I'll stay in line. And if I don't, you'll find some kinda creative way to make me pay. That's what I expect from you."

"I'll take your word for it."

"Damn right. I wouldn't worry too much. We've got the whole mission ahead of us. Plenty of time to get to know each other better."

"Then I'll let you get back to your duties," I allowed. "We should reach the Citadel in about twenty minutes or so. I hope you're up for a little shore leave."

Zaeed nodded in approval. "Yeah, sounds good. I'll finish up what I've got now. I'll see you then."

"See you soon, Zaeed."

Leaving him to his work in the armory, I went across the hall, past the comm room to the well-lit lab.

I found Mordin working behind the center table. Facing me, his back to the window. He had a few of those bug-like seeker swarm samples buzzing around in a container, testing a few different neutralization techniques that way. Multitasking, he continued working as he addressed me:

"There you are, Shepard," said Mordin, a bit subdued. "Have been meaning to speak with you. Forgot to ask EDI to let you know. Caught up between ongoing sample testing and pervasive thoughts."

"You, Garrus, and Zaeed all read about what happened."

Eyes closed, Mordin inhaled deeply. Contemplative. "Hmm, yes," he confirmed. "Do not think badly of you. Difficult decision. Some intrigue, as well, in joining team after moving fiasco. Drama, emotion, passion. Understand why galaxy learned different story— _public_ story. Would have ruined Williams legacy once more. Meaningful display of compassion for family of deceased. Have been withdrawn, thinking about your actions. Her actions. Miranda as well. Hers most thought-provoking. Clear she has strong feelings for you. Stronger, now, in face of decisions she made for your sake. Great respect."

I wondered, "Have you told Miranda that?"

Mordin looked appalled. "What? No! Scandalous suggestion, Shepard. Would never dream of discussing such personal matters with her. Have not known her for very long, but Miranda is adamant about maintaining professional hierarchy aboard _Normandy._ Strict protocol. She is executive officer. Second-in-command. Cannot broach subject with her as science officer, _junior officer!_ Too many unknowns…"

"And yet you're telling me about all of this," I pointed out. "Besides, I thought the two of you got along just fine when you first met. You had plenty to talk about while you waited for me to handle that cure."

"Contradictory nature, indeed," he accepted, with some consternation. "Suppose your open policy of discussion is—comforting. Feel closer to you as captain, commander. Beginnings of mutual friendship, perhaps. Vague beginnings. Aware of your tendencies to keep to yourself. No judgment. Time will tell."

"I think that's fair. We can keep talking. I don't mind."

Mordin smiled, relieved. "Good to see continuation of open policy. Thank you, Shepard."

"Well, what else have you been thinking about? With everything from the report you read over."

"Inevitable links to own work. Dubious morality as doctor, geneticist. Began second-guessing motives, justifications. Old wounds reopening. Was unsure how to process change. Unexpected."

"What do you mean?" I asked. "Is there something specific from your work in the past?"

Mordin kept his emotions out: "Did some work with krogan genophage. Salarian Special Tasks Group. Noticed krogan adapting to previous strand. Needed to modify, adjust for changing variables. Genophage modification project. Prevented krogan population from exploding once more. Status quo."

"Status quo sounds about right. And this sounds like a heavy topic. No wonder it's been on your mind."

"Yes, not pleasant conversation to have… Not as first conversation in lab. Can discuss in detail later on."

Joker made an announcement over the intercom: _"Hey folks, gonna be pulling into the Citadel in the next ten minutes! You gotta love seeing all that taxpayer money at work. I know I sure do."_

Mordin seemed puzzled. "Still not used to Joker's— _jokes._ Social translation not always obvious."

"He'll end up growing on you," I reassured. "I wouldn't worry about it."

"Of course! Will take your word for it. For now, should get back to work. Need to finish current task before arrival at Citadel. Won't take long. Appreciate talk."

"All right, Mordin. It was good talking with you, too. I'll see you soon."

Since we only had a few minutes left, I went back to my room anyway…to get changed. Changing out of this toy—saving Miranda's amusement with it for later. In private. Alone. Changing into my stealth suit, and gearing up with my weapons. Not that I expected to run into trouble on the Citadel. Considering what happened the last time I was there two years ago, I only wanted to be prepared. Just in case.

By the time I made my way to the bridge, I found Garrus over at the helm with Joker already.

I approached them—and the glowing violet hues from the nebula surrounding the Citadel, those brights shining through the open windows, beckoning me closer.

Joker spoke to Garrus, "Well hey there, stranger! Haven't seen you since you first joined up. Glad you're not, uh, dead or anything. I was about to start worrying, you know. Like, _really_ worrying. It was bad."

Garrus struggled to keep it light: "No, I haven't died yet… It's going take a lot more to get rid of me."

"Yeah, after you fended off all those mercs from your old hideout on Omega? Sounds about right…"

Their brief conversation could have ended on an awkward note, right there—if Joker and Garrus hadn't noticed me in that moment. They both looked to me as I stood nearby. I acknowledged them, one at a time, making sure they were all right. Making sure they noticed that I noticed them. In their own ways, Garrus and Joker brightened a bit, finding that I cared. They didn't need to say anything to me directly. They just watched as I went back to staring out the windows, watching as we approached the Citadel: that partially-open station of a star aglow from within the nebula. Perfect galactic ingenuity, in beauty.

Joker and Garrus continued talking, much easier than before. Seeming contented to have me around.

As they talked, I heard the approaching sounds from Miranda, Zaeed, Legion, and Mordin crossing the bridge, the four of them speaking together. Or rather, Zaeed making brash conversation while Miranda rebuffed him, with Mordin and Legion unsure of how to respond. Zaeed appeared unbothered by Miranda's attitude now, openly laughing at how cagey she was. And Miranda scoffed right back at him, chastising his attempts to make light of this. But it didn't seem to be a big deal. Different personalities.

As I gazed out at this perfection, I almost felt overwhelmed by the one standing next to me now. Miranda had reached my side. Ignoring everyone else. Staring at the sights with me, right by me. The way these lights lit up her skin, her eyes—she had me mesmerized. I held her hand with this feeling; smiled down at her with this sentiment, growing. Expanding well past the actual space in my chest.

More beautiful than all, Miranda returned my smile. Securing my hand over hers. Not caring that the others stared at us, or not minding either way. I had her attention, and she had mine, adding to this new-nostalgia. Uplifting. Hopeful. Changing the landscape of what I believed was possible, emotionally.

* * *

Within the picturesque sanctuary of the Citadel Tower, I met with the Council at their coveted spot, just before the towering window with the outside view of the nebula. Anderson and the turian, asari, and salarian councilors all stood at their panels, facing me, with my team behind me as we held this meeting. Antechambers fanning outward from this space, stairs rising to this occasion, I could never forget this eternal autumn's ambiance. Cherry trees undisturbed from the last time I had been here—gardens tended to and political life running uninterrupted, everything looked perfectly fine compared to before.

Anderson led the meeting for us: "It's good to have you back, Commander. While you were gone, we made sure to continue our efforts in preparing for the Reapers' arrival. This was the least we could do to honor your legacy. We would have then given the intel to relevant militaries, with Lieutenant Williams likely leading the rest of your team in your absence… But that clearly won't be the case anymore. Now that you're with us again, we should be able to proceed with our original plans."

The salarian councilor detailed, "The galaxy's best scientists are still hard at work with their research into Sovereign's remains. In particular, the Salarian Special Tasks Group has discovered a possible breakthrough with the origins behind these mysterious backdoors with capital-class Reaper ships. They have forwarded their findings to the Systems Alliance, whose scientists should have more information for us within the coming months."

The turian councilor continued, "In addition, the Turian Hierarchy has worked hand-in-hand with the Alliance on a possible plan of attack against the Reapers. We believe there may be a way for you to launch coordinated strikes on certain ships, in order to weaken the rest of the units within any given system. It is akin to taking one major player down to effectively lower the morale of any remaining troops, leaving them more vulnerable to defeat by the rest of our galaxy's fleets. Alliance Command will have more details to share with you as we approach the war."

Grim, the asari councilor shared, "Asari High Command has recently shared troubling, but pertinent news for me to pass onto you and your team, Commander. Due to the nature of this classified information, I'm unable to share our methods of discovery. However, our matriarchs appear to have an accurate estimation of when the Reapers will arrive. Relatively speaking, we do not have much time."

Already…? "Lay it on me, Councilor. How much time do we have?"

She regretted having to tell me, "By the end of the solar year."

Gloomy, Anderson added, "We're putting their estimates around November or December. Give or take."

Behind me, the team fell into a more weighted silence.

That wasn't much time at all.

We had maybe eight or nine months before the Reapers would be at our doorstep. Before I'd have to step up again and repeat the impossible that I'd achieved before. Under such different circumstances.

"Understood," I accepted. "And there's nothing we can do to stop them? Or delay them."

The salarian councilor said, "Unfortunately not. Rest assured, we have vastly improved our planetary defense systems on each of the Council homeworlds: Earth, Sur'Kesh, Palaven, and Thessia. Though we have been unable to secure the same preparations for other worlds of non-Council species. Doing so would likely invite panic, suspicion. We have thus far maintained to the public that war is not imminent. This leaves the hanar and drell homeworld Kahje, the volus homeworld Irune, the batarian homeworld Khar'shan, the elcor homeworld Dekuuna, and the krogan homeworld Tuchanka open to the worst… Sadly, the nomadic quarians among the Migrant Fleet will have to make due with what they have."

I told them, "You know the public's going to hate this as soon as they find out. Playing favorites like that. I get why you're not saying anything. But you have to see what kind of outrage is coming your way."

The asari councilor insisted, "We do understand. To that end, we have dedicated large swaths of the Wards as refugee safe zones. Had we not been prepared, we would have only had space for refugees within the Citadel docks. As soon as the Reapers arrive in any Milky Way systems, we will arrange for free and safe transport for any and all refugees to seek shelter here on the station. The public and the media will call us out for our apparent clairvoyance. Yet this is the only compromise we can allow."

Anderson added, "That's not all we've done. Thanks to the Illusive Man and Miranda Lawson, the Alliance and Cerberus have formed a wartime pact to prepare for and fight against the Reapers. Cerberus has already begun devoting resources toward improving Alliance soldiers and ships in an ethical manner. We know that Cerberus discovered these improvements using unethical methods. But the Alliance has been careful to vet all proposed technology: we've adapted everything in a manner compliant with galactic law. No genetically-enhanced supersoldiers—just improvements across the board for our soldiers for the war. Since no one else knows about the Reapers at the moment, they're being implemented as part of a new standard procedure in the military. Strictly need-to-know."

The turian councilor explained, "Commander, we can't understate the importance of our negotiations with Cerberus in your absence. Not only did they bring the truth to us—uncensored—they also brought you back. In exchange for their information, resources, and their efforts in restoring you as you were before, we extended an offer of clemency. In particular, we have given your teammate Miranda Lawson full galactic immunity for any and all crimes committed while working with Cerberus. She has already given her word that she will aid you in the fight against the Collectors and the Reapers, remaining by your side. So from now on, Miss Lawson may go wherever she pleases with impunity. This includes any and all Alliance bases, stations, and headquarters. Given her trustworthiness, she has earned this."

Caught off-guard from this surprise, I turned to look at Miranda not too far behind me. She had her head bowed, taking in this moment. Even though she wouldn't look at me, I didn't mind. I found her humility.

Anderson concluded everything: "Commander, the Council thanks you for bringing about these new alliances and discoveries. You're already uniting the galaxy again, just as you did years ago. To that end, we've officially reinstated your Spectre status. May you continue to be a friend to the Council, our protector. And may you continue to be a protector to all in the galaxy who deserve you. We wish you and your team luck in your mission against the Collectors. This meeting of the Council is adjourned."

After everyone dispersed, Anderson invited me over to speak with him off to the side. The rest of my team went off across the way, sitting down on the benches by the cherry trees. Being alone with Anderson like this, even with the team in full-view, I could see how the stress of the past two years had gotten to him, changed him. Less light in his eyes, but he was still fundamentally the same. Just… _older._

He spoke to me all the same, "You're a sight for sore eyes, Shepard. I'm glad we were able to get through the meeting. The other councilors were anxious to go over those details with you. And I needed to see you for myself. In-person."

I shook his hand. "It's good to see you again, Anderson. Even with everything going on."

"The feeling's mutual," replied Anderson, giving a weak smile. "I've wanted to share with you—I had a sense that something wasn't right. After we lost you. There was a lot that didn't quite add up. When we lost your remains, I kept coming back to that incident over the years. Wondering if I had it right about what happened. Then came along the Illusive Man. I'm still in a bit of shock over it. Hackett is, too."

"You're positive about working with Cerberus on this level? I wasn't expecting all of that."

"Cerberus isn't exactly on the up-and-up. I won't deny that. If it were just the Illusive Man, I wouldn't have taken his claims all that seriously. It's Miss Lawson I had a difficult time saying no to. I don't get the impression that she's fully aligned with Cerberus' shady reputation. If you know what I mean."

"Yeah, I do know," I shared. "What are your thoughts on this?"

"Honestly, your teammate seems almost too principled and pure for the organization as a whole. I can expect her to perhaps take measures that are outside the norm; ones that may look bad on the surface. But it would always be for the best reasons. The right reasons. She isn't afraid to take those steps."

I breathed a little easier, relieved that he felt the same.

Anderson had a knowing glint in his eye as he said, "Shepard—if you want my advice… From what I gathered during those negotiations, and just now during the meeting, I can see that Miss Lawson is your equal. Seems impossible. That's the honest feeling I get from her. She wants what's best for you. She wants to make sure you succeed. And she's reliable. I have no issues trusting her as long as you do."

"I trust her… It's _Cerberus_ that I'm not fully on-board with. I don't think I ever will be."

He caught how and why I was so torn about this. "I understand. Just know, if Cerberus is trying to pull a fast one on us, I don't think your teammate is involved. You would know if she had a hand in this. For now, I'd say to keep following your instincts. Do whatever you feel is best. If we need to drop the Illusive Man for whatever reason, I'm confident that we'd at least have Lawson on our side regardless. I can't see her stabbing you in the back. Not after all she's done. So perhaps it's something to think about."

"It helps to hear that, Sir. I'll think it over."

Anderson smiled, supportive. "Good. That's all I can ask for."

As we spent a while longer talking, I felt Miranda looking over at us. Over at me. Needing to keep me in her sights; needing to know that I was all right. Even as she swatted away Zaeed's attempts to pull her attention back to the group, Miranda maintained her vigil over me. All with that same purity, that same honesty of spirit that found me the first time I'd laid eyes on her. With this reminder, I felt grounded once again, stronger than before—the earth reinforced itself beneath my feet, fortifying me entirely.

* * *

After leaving the Citadel Tower with the team, we headed down to the Zakera Wards together. I browsed the stores for those star charts I wanted, plus some other upgrades, and had everything I purchased sent to the _Normandy._ The whole time, I listened to people discuss everyday topics. The new Blasto movie starring some hanar, the latest biotic amps available, customers haggling over prices…and no one talking about any sort of war, or invasion, contrary to the meeting I'd just had with the Council earlier.

Holding Miranda's hand as I took all of this in, I found the real reasons why the Council didn't want to alarm anyone. I guessed if I were a regular person, I wouldn't want to freak out about some war I had no control over, looming overhead.

Knowing that everything would change toward the end of the year, I started considering more:

I only had so much time to make the most of things with Miranda, with what we had.

Yeah, she would still be with me after we dealt with the Collectors, and once the Reapers arrived in force. She would still be on the team. She would still be in my life, no matter what happened with us romantically. But this ticking clock suddenly broadened my horizons; shifted my perspective, yet again.

Easygoing, Garrus got my attention as we passed by another shop. "Hey, Shepard. These look cool."

On display along the counters were a bunch of different model ships, each from the Migrant Fleet. Not all fifty-thousand of them—but I recognized quite a few of these, like the _Rayya_ and the _Neema._ The ships were apparently on sale for dirt cheap. Everyone else walked right by them; even the shop owner seemed disinterested in the collection, as if just waiting for a chance to get rid of it. I frowned over the reality that no one really valued the quarians, their ships, or their nomadic way of life, essentially existing as vagrant hustlers out among the stars. It was like everyone blamed them, or their ancestors, really, for getting chased away from their homeworld Rannoch by the geth after the Morning War. Even the Council barely gave a damn that the Flotilla would basically be on their own once the Reapers reached the Milky Way.

I went ahead and bought the collection for myself, sending everything back to my room on the ship.

Miranda smiled over my choice.

As we left the store, I was a little distracted by her smile. Holding her hand like this, I was about to lean over to her. To say something. To break this unofficial silence between us. I was so focused on her that I didn't notice the short-haired human woman in a blue dress nearby, suddenly deciding to accost me:

This stranger had a camera hovering behind her—she turned the light on, blaring in my direction.

This _reporter,_ or whoever, got in my space and said, _loudly,_ "Commander Shepard? Commander Shepard! Khalisah bint Sinan al-Jilani, Westerlund News. The people want to hear your story, Shepard! I unfortunately wasn't able to interview you two years ago, when you first became a Spectre. I'd like to make up for that now. Do you have a minute?"

Glaring at her, I fought back, "What the hell is this? _No,_ I don't have a minute! Get out of my way!"

"I just want to give your story its due," she claimed, glancing down at Miranda's hand in mine. "Oh, my. Now _this_ is what I was looking for! Sources say you were dead for two years. But now you've returned—with an incredibly beautiful woman on your arm. And she works for Cerberus?! Well, isn't this interesting?" This Khalisah made the fatal mistake of getting in Miranda's face this time, probing her—"Are you and the commander newly involved after Lieutenant Williams was killed-in-action? Jumping into a new love affair so quickly doesn't seem like something Shepard would do—"

I physically placed myself between Miranda and this messy reporter, warning—"You need to stop."

Khalisah kept on going, "But Commander, the people deserve answers! Reports claim that you didn't attend your previous partner's funeral. Isn't it strange that you weren't present? Were _you_ truly dead all along? Or did you fake your death to run off and elope with this stunning femme fatale instead? _Clearly,_ if you did, no one would blame you. This new mistress of yours has certain…assets that are more wonderful than any _normal_ woman. I'm willing to bet the two of you have quite the active sex life."

Offended beyond reason, Miranda scoffed behind me. Humiliated. Objectified. Obviously hating this.

Iron-tight, I balled my fist.

Instead of acting out, I made myself clear: "Don't you dare assume anything about my private life. I won't let you disrespect the woman I'm with. Now get out of my face before I make you regret it."

Testing me for her fucking clicks and ratings, Khalisah smirked. "You'll make me regret it, will you? You sound pretty protective of her. Then again, you should be. Is that a _threat,_ Commander—?"

"I've had enough of your disingenuous assertions."

I pulled out my sidearm and shot her stupid camera.

Khalisah screamed in shock and dismay over losing her precious footage; the surrounding civilians screamed louder in a sudden panic from the gunfire. They all scattered off in every direction, running away.

I held Miranda's hand again, ordering the team, "Come on. Let's get out of here."

Zaeed chuckled. "Well, that takes care of that."

"Indeed," noted Mordin. "Effective methods. Shame about loss of equipment. Looked valuable."

Garrus shook his head. "She's a real piece of work. Not sure how you kept so calm. I would've lost it."

Miranda snarled, "She's lucky that's all Shepard did. I could've made things worse."

Legion inquired, "Would physical violence have been a suitable reaction?"

"More than suitable, Legion. It's what she deserved. Either way, she won't be able to spread her trashy gossip over the extranet. I suppose that's enough for now."

We escaped into the Dark Star lounge nearby, just to get away from the area, from the incident.

The downtempo music thudding through from the entrance had caught my attention, anyway. I ended up following those low sounds, finding the inside of the lounge with a chill, laid-back vibe going. No one in here appeared to have noticed what went on with that reporter minutes ago. Static red lights at the center bar, and shifting blues, golds, and greens everywhere else down here on the first floor; the tables spread out along the perimeter, and the dance floor off in a corner all looked decent enough.

Everyone else decided this was a good place to hang out. Garrus, Mordin, Zaeed, and Legion went off to the bar together. Miranda went on ahead to join them, knowing I would follow her afterward. She seemed like she had a lot on her mind. Probably the same as me—on top of the recent rage and embarrassment from dealing with that Khalisah character. Even as she sat down along one of the barstools with the others, I watched those thoughts pass through her eyes. Naturally worrying about every little thing. Maybe wishing we'd had more time to just _live_ first—without this war getting in the way of things.

Curling into herself, Miranda could have disappeared like that.

If only these lights had stopped shining in color, illuminating everything about her. Brightening in tints.

As much as my body had absorbed this pulsing music, I still wanted her. I still wanted to be in her. I didn't want her to spend another minute believing that we needed to maintain some kind of distance.

I went over to Miranda at the bar.

Right as I did, Zaeed noticed her. Spotting how much weighed on her mind.

Having already ordered himself a beer, he tried to lighten the mood: "Don't tell me you're still pissed about that whole thing earlier. Forget about it, will you? C'mon, have a drink!"

Miranda questioned him, "Is that always how you resolve your problems? By _drinking?"_

Zaeed laughed. "No, but it does a hell of a lot to loosen me up. Might do the same for you."

"I'll drink when I feel like it. Not when you tell me to."

"All right, all right. There's no telling Miss Lawson what to do. You do what you want, when you want."

Miranda rolled her eyes. "Your sarcasm aside, I have to say that you are correct. For once."

"Know what?" considered Zaeed. "I think that tabloid reporter was onto something. You've been around, haven't you?"

"What the hell is that supposed to mean?!"

"You seem experienced, is what I'm trying to say! You ever run a business selling that sass of yours? I bet you'd make a killing. Then again, you already have, haven't you? Pretty sure I've got a buddy or two who might know you from somewhere…"

Curious all of a sudden, Mordin and Garrus glanced over at them. Trying to find out more.

Legion gave no reaction, continuing to stand nearby. Observing everyone as usual.

"Don't be absurd," snapped Miranda. Obviously saving face now. "I haven't the faintest idea as to what you're talking about. And frankly, I don't care to know. You can keep your observations to yourself."

"Uh-huh," allowed Zaeed, disbelieving. "If you say so…"

Reaching Miranda's side, I murmured in her ear, "Hey."

She let out an irritated sigh. "He never knows when to shut the hell up."

Watching as Zaeed chatted with the others, I mentioned, "I think he likes you."

Miranda didn't mean to laugh at that. "Shepard, _please,"_ she dismissed. "The man is old enough to be my father. I'm sure he knows this by now. Besides, you're only trying to rile me up." She calmed down a bit once I ordered her a drink: a glass of that Pinot Noir red wine we'd shared on our first date. The turian bartender was quick to prepare the glass, setting it over the bar in front of her. "Thank you… I was in the mood for this. Sadly, they don't make the cocktail that I prefer having. _Perfection._ It's rather rare."

"You would like that one," I figured. "Is it because of the strawberry flavor?"

Thoughtful, elegant, Miranda sipped her wine. "Yes, I do enjoy it," she supplied. "Overall, it's the mix of the ingredients. How everything comes together in such a natural way. It's…a perfect fit, I suppose."

Leaning over the bar, I made sure to stay near her. Perfectly close to her ear. Perfectly proximal to this heat radiating off from her, hotter as I breathed over her skin. Perfectly trained on the way she couldn't look at me, staring down at the red of her wine. Reddening more as Legion, Zaeed, Mordin, and Garrus kept on glancing over here, clearly noticing what went on with us. And over her neck, her edges, the softest, shortest, gentlest of her strands of hair stood up on-end, lifting more from my breaths here.

If Miranda only knew what I really wanted with her: she wouldn't have been able to sit still at all.

"Perfect—just like you are."

Self-conscious with the rest of the team staring at us, all she could say was, "Shepard…"

I glossed my hand along her lower back, appreciating this curve about her. "Something on your mind?"

Miranda murmured, "You're doing this on purpose. Aren't you?"

"I'm not," I claimed, touching her face instead. "I enjoy looking at you. Admiring you. Is that so wrong?"

When she wouldn't say anything, I settled my hand just under her jaw. Lifting her head enough. Exactly enough to keep Miranda from seeming too insecure with everyone's eyes on us, even as they continued talking among themselves. Not only the team—quite a few other people spread out within the lounge had their attention focused on us. Recognizing me. Learning who Miranda was to me by proxy. Seeing how and why I kept this steam in my stare, unable to look away from her. Not that I minded. She did.

So I said to her, "Miranda. Do you want to go sit down somewhere with me?"

Relaxing some more, she asked in a soft voice, "Just the two of us?"

"Just the two of us. Alone."

Miranda glanced around at the tables everywhere. "They're all full. This place is packed today."

I pointed upstairs.

And she pointed out to me, "I don't think anyone's allowed up there, you know. It's always deserted."

I offered her my hand anyway.

Pleased by me, Miranda settled her hand along my palm. Letting me help her stand up from the barstool. Letting me guide her toward the back of the lounge, past the dance floor. Over to where this door was, leading elsewhere. A few C-Sec officers stood watch by the stairs that presumably led to the second floor. Realizing who I was, they went ahead and let Miranda and me pass by. No questions asked. Even though, as Miranda had said, no one should have been allowed up here. The C-Sec officers were kind enough to make this exception for us.

Miranda seemed satisfied, too.

Up the stairs, we found another door. I guided Miranda through first, the two of us returning to the chill, pulsing beats of the lounge's music—this time, raised up above the main floor. Past the handrails, we had a fine view of everyone downstairs at the bar, sitting at the tables, or dancing. Mordin, Legion, Garrus, and Zaeed didn't seem to notice us up here, still busy talking together as they were. I figured they wouldn't think to look up here. So the two of us could have our privacy, relatively speaking.

Off in the corner, we found a leather couch to sit on. Secluded, comfortable.

I waited for Miranda to take her seat first, before sitting right by her. She let me keep my arm around her shoulder. Holding her close like this. Basking in this feeling that she enjoyed being here with me; that she liked relaxing against me; that she needed me like this. She didn't have to say a word. I knew.

I had to ask, "You've been here before? Sounds like you have."

"Mmm, yes," replied Miranda. "I've stopped by a few times. Flux and Chora's Den are still under reconstruction. They're clearly not a priority. This place is rather soothing. I like it."

"I'll keep that in mind," I said.

"Well, since we're alone now…is there anything you'd like to ask me?"

"Playing twenty questions, are we?"

"Not necessarily, no," she mused. "I can assume what your reaction was to the recording I sent you. We don't need to discuss it. I was only wondering if there was something else you wanted to know."

Yeah, our brief talk in her office earlier had spelled out those assumptions for her.

On a related tangent, I touched the collar over her neck, asking, "What is this for?"

Light and easy, Miranda simply said, "What do you think it's for?" as if to suggest the obvious.

I knew she could feel my heart quickening beneath her ear. "Did you…decide that you belong to me?"

"A long time ago, yes."

"Why?"

"Because you're my favorite person, Commander."

…

Miranda laughed softly. Picking up on the rest of my reactions.

She knew to use my rank like that on purpose.

Her choice of words, though…I was pretty sure I knew what she meant. Exactly what she meant.

As she said that, refined accent and all, the power of her presence drew me in more. This crystalline shine of her eyes in this lighting, catching the golds the most, effervescent. The irresistible contrast of that light color of her gaze with the dark of her hair, making the steel of her blues stand out even more. I felt myself getting caught up in the honor of this opportunity, knowing that Miranda wanted me like this—in all of her superiority and sophistication. Her striking confidence. Knowing how she wanted, needed me.

Self-possessed in her comfort here in my hold, she gazed down at everyone below us. Enjoying me most.

Even the soft, contented sigh she let out had me needing her more.

No one could compare to her.

No one was even in the same stratosphere as she was, as far as I knew.

Miranda noticed. "Surely you have more questions to ask. Don't you?"

"…what do you find most attractive about me?"

"Aside from your stunning looks, and your smooth charm? Hmm. I'd say it's your penchant for planning, for getting what you want at any cost. Your ruthlessness. Your principles. The two of these combined—they define you in a powerful, exceptional way. Your presence before me is as an empire, and I want nothing more than to rule over you myself. With your permission, of course… Your dominance and respect define the essence of how unique you are. How very—Machiavellian you are. I find it inspiring."

Completely high on her now, I had to know, "Then why didn't you come after me before? If you knew about me all this time… Why'd you skip the chance to contact me first? Why did you _wait for me?"_

"You wouldn't have approved of Cerberus. I wouldn't have been able to keep that a secret from you."

I guessed not…

"Well, even now, you usually wait for me to make the first move. It's like you enjoy that. How come?"

Shifting up, Miranda gave me such an intense, alluring look.

The depth in her stare reached through to me—all the way through me, deep down into me.

This slightly higher pitch of her voice, gossamer-smooth and effeminate, entranced me all over again: "Because I want you to desire me. I want to feel desired by you. Sometimes, if I make the first move, then it isn't the same. I don't want to rush you, either. So if you want me, you'll act like it. It's as simple as that. Things aren't usually simple with me. But…let's just say you're quite an exception to many of my rules."

I understood.

Miranda's entire sex life before me had been…clinical. With clients, strangers. Transactional. No emotions involved. No thrill of the chase, or courtships. No relationships.

She didn't have to keep treating sex like an operation or a project anymore. Not with me.

As high as I was with her still staring at me like this, I tried to doubt. I tried to resist Miranda getting in my head like this. I was supposed to be in charge here. But I really liked what she had given me so far. And she knew everything about me. Here she was, speaking from a place of total and complete understanding. Maybe even beyond what I could see about myself in this exact moment.

Her own Machiavellianism in needing me: it was dark, sexy, attractive, compelling…

Seeing this look in my eyes, Miranda smiled a little. Laughing softly again—intrigued, pleased.

"You already know I'm eager for more," she whispered, stroking my face. "I've told you what I want. What I'm ready for. Whenever you're prepared to take that next step, you'll let me know. Until then…"

Straddling me all the way, Miranda mounted me, clutching her thighs around me. Automatic, I gripped her waist, her back, pulling her into me, more. Red wine still lingering over her lips, her taste, her eagerness reminded me of our first kiss all over again. Throwing me back into that loop, of spinning in place in this twisting hurricane, emotions blowing hot and hotter like this. Humid, damp, tropical—Miranda's breaths in my mouth shaped themselves as her smirk, goading me. Encouraging me with these gentle sounds of hers; submitting to me as much as she ordered me without words to pull her closer, to grope her harder, to own her and desire her and claim her with more conviction, stronger.

And I did. I did, and I did, getting lost in her, losing my way in her, obsessed with her: in this shape of her body rounded and tightened beneath the leather of her uniform. Clear, superior perfection as a woman.

Miranda cascaded into me, _feeling desired._

Smiling in satisfaction now, she smoothed her lips across from mine, over my face, and right to my ear.

Breathing here, Miranda's whispers husked through me, sultry as that tropical heat: "Tell me, Shepard… I want to know the truth. If your exes were still around—both of them, either one of them—would you have been able to resist me? If I came after you. If I made myself clear. If I made it plain that I _wouldn't_ be the other woman."

Psychedelic lights from Dark Star marveling behind her as blues and golds, I muttered my drugged response, "No… I wouldn't have been able to resist you. Not at all. No one can compare to you. You're such a queen."

Ego fully stroked by me, she let out such a sound of satisfaction. Rewarding my need to please her.

"Would you have decided to leave them for me?"

_"Yes…"_

Closer, Miranda sent me on another trip: "Yes, _what?"_

Suggesting this way that she wanted a title.

I drew a blank.

Tripping on out of myself even as I sat still beneath her power, her majesty.

She went on, "I enjoy it when you call me by my name. And I'm certainly not looking to be your Mistress. I'm sure we've established that you're the service top between us." Testing my control, Miranda smoothed her hands down to my chest, hedging her weight there. Using me as her support. "But, for this, I want you to recall what you called them. In the past. I know you remember. I want you to call me the same." Of course I remembered… But why? "As for my reasons: well, _I'm here,_ and they aren't. It's a fine reminder. I know that it's dark. Morbid. But I'd like you to do this for me, whether we're alone or not." Soft and supple, she clasped her lips over the corner of my mouth, gently impassioned. "Could you?"

Whatever she wanted; whatever she needed—"Yes, babe… Of course."

"Mmm, I do love your manners as well. You're polite. And such a gentleman. Even while you're bursting at the seams for me."

"I have to be," I justified. "You deserve it. You deserve everything from me. You know that, don't you?"

Miranda did know it—she smiled over my skin as she knew it—yet she still had to tell me: "Shepard. I should warn you first… If you truly decide to make me yours, it won't be a one-sided affair with you doing _all_ the work. As I've already shown, I can lose control with you, too. I may overwhelm you. And I don't say this lightly. Not at all. I only want what's best for you—and I settle for nothing but the best."

"Do you—have doubts about us?"

"None," she promised. "I only want you to think carefully about how you want to move forward with me. I'm not like the women you're used to; and I'm not what you'd ever expect. I'm not entirely secure with myself, and I don't have everything figured out…but something tells me you're up for this ride regardless. As long as you have my honesty. So long as I have yours as well, you won't have to worry about me breaking your heart. Just in case you have any doubts instead—I want you to keep my words in mind. This is my eternal promise to you."


	33. Subject Zero

_"The Cycle of Violence" from The Last of Us Part II_

**XXXIII.** Subject Zero

_(Miranda)_

Early morning restlessness, sitting at my desk in only my nightdress, with my door locked—I found myself browsing the extranet on my terminal, clicking away at my interests in a strange sort of haze. At the moment, I read over a few reviews of the recent Fashion Weeks that Shepard and I had watched on television while we'd been at home together. I did feel rather…lazy for doing this. Then again, not needing to sleep allowed me to finish my work quickly enough, leaving me with plenty of time to myself. Almost too much time to myself, really. I had at least a couple of hours left before the next briefing, before we would go pick up Subject Zero from _Purgatory,_ the prison ship out in space.

Subject Zero.

_Jack._

I had some memories of this person. At least, in passing. I'd never met them myself, even though I should have. A long time ago. About a decade ago, the Illusive Man had sent me to our Teltin facility on Pragia. Cerberus had funded a somewhat secretive band of scientists and researchers out on that over-forested planet, raising groups of human biotic children they had supposedly rescued from batarian slavers. As far as I knew, the experiments had been harmless enough in the beginning. But then they began pushing the children too far: drugging them to enhance their biotic capabilities. Torturing them. Children, adolescents, toddlers and all.

When I'd showed up ten years ago at the facility to perform a surprise inspection, I had played the part well enough. Pretending to the scientists' faces that I agreed with their methods. Saving face. Not once letting them know that their experiments had gone much too far. Trying not to show any genuine horror in my face when I saw those children dressed in tattered rags, with endless amounts of scars and burns over their skin. Some of them thin as skeletons. Many of them with bruises over their necks from strangulation—and possibly with more bruises elsewhere, beneath their clothes, from the adult scientists sexually abusing them. All of them addicted to narcotics and craving their next hit; needing the stimulation from these experiments that had brutalized them into Neanderthals.

Child abuse. Torture. Drugging. Isolation.

All to push their biotic powers. All to push them to the brink for the data. Nothing more.

I had some vague memories of the scientists explaining their reasoning. That they didn't act this severely with _all_ of the children. The other subjects, they performed controlled experiments on. Testing their limitations. Anything that proved too dangerous, they would not repeat on their actual golden child:

Their real experiment, Subject Zero, who'd only been about thirteen or fourteen years old at the time.

All of the other children were mere sacrificial lambs meant to further Zero's progress.

I'd immediately reported my findings back to the Illusive Man. Naturally, he'd had no idea that Teltin's scientists had gone that far. They must have gone rogue, he'd said. Cerberus couldn't abide by such barbaric methods for the sake of progress. And so he'd given me his orders to shut down the facility.

Not even the next day, I'd received reports of a breakout on Pragia. Many of the children had escaped the facility, killing nearly all of the scientists on their way out. Or at least they'd tried to escape. Subject Zero had somehow gotten loose, killing more people before ultimately escaping to freedom. Zero had remained as a criminal on-the-run over the past decade before ultimately getting captured and sent to this _Purgatory_ prison ship. Never fully healing from those brutal experiments. Living out more trauma.

Even after the incident, I'd chosen to return to the Teltin facility. Conveniently enough, most of the data from those experiments had been wiped clean from existence. I had been able to track some of the surviving scientists back to the Alliance's Ascension Program for biotic children. After acting in my own convenience, leaking to the program that these scientists belonged to Cerberus, the survivors had been promptly kicked out and sent back to us. Back to Cerberus, for questioning—by me, personally.

None of the scientists had survived once I was through with them.

Ultimately continuing that cycle of violence they had perpetuated against so many innocents.

Especially when they'd continued to claim that the Illusive Man had sanctioned their actions—barring the sexual abuse against those children. They'd tried to mind fuck me into believing this. Into believing their cause. Into believing their extremes. Desperate to save their own asses, they'd lied to me. _Clearly._

I'd chosen not to believe those lies.

But every now and then, like today, like now, I would question myself all over again.

Wondering how and why something like this could have happened. On the Illusive Man's watch, no less.

I also regretted not speaking to Subject Zero myself at the time. The scientists had kept Jack in complete isolation. Had I pushed my luck and demanded to speak with Zero, I may have blown my cover. So I'd let the issue go, convincing myself that I'd save my questions for my next visit. Then the rest had happened.

So for this mission, I fully expected Jack to resist joining the team at first. Because of Cerberus.

Hopefully Shepard would be able to resolve the situation with her diplomacy as necessary.

In the meantime, I continued to browse around online. Mostly staring at the lineup Vera Wang had during New York Fashion Week. Those wedding dresses…

I had obsessed over one in particular for a while now. From her iconic collection:

Classic white. Symmetrical, strapless mermaid gown. One side rising higher than the other over the breast in sharpness, angling down to wrap along the torso. Draping for days. Full skirt with ladder techniques, drapes looping and looping in a fine gathering of material. Pure elegance and class.

Not necessarily a showstopper. It didn't need to be. There was a chic simplicity about this that I adored.

Staring at this again now, I caught myself fantasizing all over again.

Wondering what she would look like in a matching tuxedo. Incredibly handsome. Charming. _Perfect._

God, I needed to stop this…

I tabbed over to my email once I noticed an alert for a new message. Smiling a bit in warmth, I assumed that this might have been from Shepard. I really wasn't sure why. She had been cooped up in her room ever since we'd returned from the Citadel yesterday. Not necessarily avoiding me. Just…thinking. As per usual with her. And so I assumed that this was from her, to reassure me once again that all was well.

Except this was _not_ from her.

Not from her at all.

_From: Lawson, Henry – We need to talk._

_Miranda,_

_I've heard about what's going on with you—your recent developments with the Lazarus Project, and with Commander Shepard. I understand that you've become quite significant on the galactic stage. You're the one who will guarantee that the commander is able to help humanity in the upcoming war against the Reapers. No doubt you see the importance of such a grand responsibility. To that end, I have to say:_

_I couldn't be prouder of you for what you've accomplished._

_With Cerberus, and with Commander Shepard._

_I've also heard the news reports about your relationship with her. This is all a fine synthesis, Miranda. I greatly approve of your choices. What you've sacrificed. I had no idea that you were obsessed with her for the better part of two decades. Had I known, I would have arranged for you to meet her myself. I'm sure I could have pulled a few strings. It's only a shame that you decided to leave home so long ago._

_You and I have had our misunderstandings. You were only a young girl before. You couldn't fathom my reasons for pushing you as hard as I did. Now that things are different, you and I ought to speak to one another. Sort through these differences of ours. See if we can't go back to the bond we once had. There was a time when you revered me, you know. When you hung on my every word. When you needed my validation to know that you were worthy. I want us to return to that—in some form. As much as possible._

_If Commander Shepard has taken my place, then I can't fault you for that. I only hope that we can also discuss this. It isn't healthy for you to view another woman this way. Unless there's something else at work here. Whatever the case, we need to discuss this…at your earliest convenience. Preferably soon._

_-Your father_

Rage burned my throat with this sound of annoyance I let out. The absolute gall of this man. His entitlement. His expectations in keeping me on some fucking leash all over again. His ridiculous ego in believing that I would actually speak to him, after everything he had put me through!

And his nerve in diminishing how he'd emotionally abused me. Subversive: without laying a hand on me.

Purest subterfuge against my mind. Nearly assassinating me that way, all while I had been just a child.

_Misunderstandings…_

I deleted his damned message within seconds after I finished reading it. And I blocked his email address.

Blowing hot air, I buried my face in my hands. Trying to breathe. Thinking about my sister Oriana; wondering if she was all right. Hoping that this wasn't some prelude to our father saying that he'd taken my sister somewhere, all in order to entrap me into doing what he wanted. Then again, I didn't have to hope or wonder about anything. I knew for a fact that Oriana was all right. Cerberus had helped me hide her, protect her. I could have brought up the surveillance footage of my sister in her university classes at any time, any moment. Just to see her. Just to know for myself that she was in fact doing well enough.

I hadn't been able to watch any of the footage lately. I couldn't bring myself to do it.

I had moved on from the incident over the past two years, with the one I'd manipulated. The one I'd constantly viewed as my sister—when it was convenient. Trying to find Oriana through her. But I had yet to sever this final connection. This last strand, this last meaning. I supposed I still needed more time.

As for my father, I knew he didn't really give a damn about me.

No doubt this was all about securing his dynasty. Now that I had this significance with the war, he of course wanted to ensure that history would remember his part in _creating_ me. Taking credit for my own accomplishments. Even crediting himself, possibly, for the way Shepard felt about me today.

In my father's eyes, I was the purest extension of him in every form. A perfect female version of him.

To this day, these mirrors continued to blind me with their persistent glares, shining this ugly spotlight.

He had passed on some version of his warped perception to me. Not entirely the same… Yet still twisted.

Such uncanny timing: I heard a knock upon my door.

At this hour, there was only one person it could have been, knowing that I was fully awake.

I got up from my desk and went to the door. Standing off to the side, hidden by the wall—on the off-chance that someone else was outside, out in the mess hall having an extremely early breakfast. I didn't want them to see me like this. God forbid it might have been Zaeed, of all people. He would have stared.

My unexpected visitor was the single person allowed to see me like this.

My completely unexpected visitor who was not in fact running from me. But she moved at a blisteringly quick pace nonetheless. Fast-walking. Power-walking. Struggling to maintain her own power around me.

I opened the door.

Ridged weight of her combat boots shifting, Shepard walked inside, already wearing her N7 stealth suit.

Beauty cascading, she had left her hair down for these hours yet before the briefing. Finding me in such purity of spirit. Gazing at me in an endless patience as the door closed behind her, locking once more.

Locking onto me, Shepard crossed the short distance between us.

Towering over me, she pulled me in close, smelling faintly of her cologne. Turning me all the way on.

Insulating me in this smooth material of her suit, I sighed into the meaning of her embrace. This weight of her, this power of her, all wrapped around me, as strong as Shepard's arms were in her intentions: she had so much to say. So much to express. So much to give to me. Yet she had chosen to coalesce all of it into this moment. Holding me like this. Drawing this contrast of how exposed I felt in her hold, with only this lace over my body. She could have groped me; grabbed me to make the point of her strength.

Shepard chose to kiss my neck instead, so very tender as she lingered over my skin. Erogenous, intimate.

"Hey," she whispered, reaching deep in me.

I settled my arms around her shoulders, leveraging myself against her. "Well, this is a surprise…"

Shepard inched her lips up to my jawline, tracing me with her care. "I wanted to see you. I had to."

Light-headed from her care, her attention on me like this, worshipping, I only moaned in response.

She kept going. Softer, steadier. Leaning me backward into this arch I couldn't even realize. Falling someplace in her arms, into this ocean's abyss, blue with her virtues, I couldn't see anything anymore.

As a light in these depths, Shepard's voice reached me, right in my ear: "Do you need anything, babe?"

Moaning more in disorientation, I wasn't quite able to recall if I needed anything. Anything except her; other than what she gave now, holding me and cherishing me like this. Swelling my heart about ten sizes as she adored me. Somewhere, I remembered that I had mild cramps at this time of the month. Vague pains. Not enough to be a bother.

I was about to speak on this, yet the words continued to elude me.

More so once Shepard cradled my back in her touch, controlling me. Finding her power anew. Earning the reactions from me she desperately craved; that I desperately wanted to give her, as I did, over and over.

Shepard's affectionate authority nearly sent me into overdrive—"Tell me what you need, baby."

Melting me by these smooth depths of her voice, I _needed_ her to take me. Right now. Right this instant.

Somewhere, I knew that it was still too soon. Or was it…? I couldn't know anymore.

Somehow, I made myself say instead, "I could do with some tea… You know what time it is for me."

Nodding against me, she accepted, "Then I'll go make some for you. Which one do you want?"

Still hazy, I replied, "I think I'm in the mood for chamomile today. If you wouldn't mind."

"Of course, babe," she promised. "Go sit down on the couch. Wait for me. I'll be back soon."

"Thank you, Shepard…"

Holding me tighter one last time, Shepard brought her lips to mine, just as close, with such fondness.

She then let me go, finding my empty Virgo mug over my desk. Taking it with her, she exited my office, and returned to the mess hall, to the kitchen there. Doing as I wanted, as I needed. As only she could.

Practically spinning in place, I somehow wandered over to the couch. The one behind my desk. Halved at this distance separating my office proper from my bedroom. Relaxing here, I fell into the recent memory of Shepard's surprise. Everything she had just done for me. Everything about her. Knowing that she was only a wall away from me right then, I needed her to come back already. To continue; to keep this going.

Then again, perhaps I shouldn't have been surprised.

Our time at the Dark Star lounge yesterday had been quite revealing.

Even before that, the way she had stepped up to shield me from that awful reporter had spoken wonders. Ever the protective type. Even knowing I could handle myself, I liked that Shepard cared so much. I loved how unabashed she was in her determination to defend my honor. Taking care of me.

Knowing that we only had until the end of the year to live like this, that changed things. At least, it could have. I wasn't sure if Shepard would actually decide to accelerate what we had. That would be her call.

Soon I heard Shepard's knock upon the door again. I used my omni-tool to remotely allow her entry. Once she entered the room, I locked the door right back. Listening to her soundless approach.

And then, here was Shepard, kneeling before me upon the floor. Next to the couch. Next to me, while staring up at me. Revering me with her gaze. All-consuming in her focus.

Shepard handed me my tea with both hands, steaming. "Here you go."

I smiled over her care, accepting. "Come here. I want you with me."

Situating ourselves over this leather, I moved just enough, letting Shepard sit behind me. Propping me up against her front. Holding me here like this. I then settled back over the durable weight of her suit, basking in this renewed feel of her arms around me. Enjoying the perfectly sweet smell of the chamomile mixed with enough honey; lightly blowing over the steam, adoring; and sipping this perfection, warming me on the way down in a comforting heat. Not piping hot, not too much. Just right.

Nestled in Shepard's hold like this, she kept her head next to mine, over mine. Comforting me more as I listened to her breathe. I never wanted this to end.

Not on purpose, Shepard brought a pause to my bliss when she asked, "What were you up to earlier?"

I remembered…

Stewing over the memory, I told her, "At first, I was only browsing the extranet. Trying to pass the time. Then I received an email. One that bothered me. Quite a lot."

"Who was it from?" she worried.

"My father."

Darkening in-tandem with my mood, Shepard hummed in disapproval.

"I know," I agreed. "He sent me some nonsense about the war. Essentially congratulating me for the role I have with you now. I'm not sure how he found out. And I suppose he approves of you dating me."

"Interesting… Do you plan on emailing him back?"

"Absolutely not. I deleted his message, then blocked his email address. I want nothing to do with him."

"I understand, babe," she sympathized. "But you know, you only told me surface details about him before. Him and your twin sister. How he created the two of you with those perfect genes. I get why you'd resent him after he spent so long controlling you. I'm just wondering if there's more to the story."

I sighed, admitting, "Yes, Shepard. There's a lot more I haven't told you."

She held me a little tighter. "I'm here if you want to tell me. You know I'd never judge you."

Trusting her with ease, I explained, "Well, I'm guessing you were able to glean the obvious. That he emotionally abused me. The constant mind games. Needing to live up to his impossible expectations. Never being allowed to have any friends or to live my own life. I had to be whatever _he_ wanted. I had no freedom to be myself. None whatsoever." Even in reliving these memories, I appreciated that Shepard kept on holding me. Unfaltering in her support. "I always felt like I wasn't allowed to have any problems. People would always look at me and assume that my life was perfect. I suppose I wanted to project that image, certainly. But it ended up ruining my self-esteem. I didn't know how to relate to anyone else."

Shepard chanced asking, "Even after all that, did you…ever love him as your parent?"

"I don't know what that means."

"Me neither."

We stayed quiet for a moment. Understanding our shared plight.

Then she brought up, "What was the last straw? What made you decide to run away from him?"

My face burned with humiliation as I recalled, "I wouldn't say it was only one thing. Although, there _was_ something. Something that revealed itself to me over time. I wasn't able to put the pieces together until I was much older. By then I worried if it was too late for me to leave him at all. Thankfully, it wasn't."

"What do you mean?"

"When you and I first discussed this at home, over chat, I told you that I wasn't the first daughter that my father made. I was the first one he _kept._ In that sense, I knew I had to survive. So, I learned to pick up more details about him. Ones that disturbed me as I grew older. As I began to understand them. If not for my intuition, I doubt I would have picked up on this. I'm not sure if he ever would have acted on it."

Shepard's breathing slowed.

Yet I knew she wished to know the truth. And I wanted to tell her:

"You could say my father treated me as his surrogate spouse. Not in the sense that he constantly shared his problems with me. I suppose it's more that he always expected me to be around. He relied on my presence in our home as his centering force. He needed to know where I was at every hour of every day. When I didn't want to be around him, he would become depressed for several days. Pining after me. I wasn't allowed to date anyone, though he had no issues with me being gay. I think he preferred that I wasn't attracted to men…guaranteeing that no other man would ever get to claim ownership over me. Even the way he obsessed over my looks was a telltale sign. It was a constant feeling I had from him."

Needing to make sure: "He never…?"

"Never," I asserted. "But, in a way, he might as well have. It often felt like we were in some kind of warped relationship. He would buy me whatever I wanted. Anything I wanted, no matter the expense. I suppose he associated giving me material items with giving me love. As if showing off his wealth would lessen the chance that I might want to be with anyone else, thinking that they couldn't compare to him."

Revolted, Shepard muttered, "That's sick. Did he seriously make you to be his…"

"…plaything," I finished for her. "And the answer is yes. Also to further his dynasty. It's just as it sounds."

Enraged in her silence, she could find no more words. None to speak; none to describe how she felt.

I'd always hoped for this reaction from her.

"Shepard, I hope you understand now. The way you are—your sense of justice and your morality—it's been a guiding light for me all these years. We are ultimately products of our environments. I could have continued the cycle that he started. But then I would look to you, gazing from afar while you worked your way up through the Alliance. Knowing that if I ever told you about this, you would choose to do something about it. You would support me, first, and then stand up for me. You would have found some way to protect me if it ever came down to it."

"Miranda, _of course_ I would have… There's no fucking question that I would. Even if I didn't know you."

"I know that… I really do. I'd say you're making up for what I never had. The things you stand for—it's as if you're filling in the gaps in my mind as well. Healing me. Keeping me safe when I was only a girl, too scared to leave my room at night to make my own tea, in case my father decided to act on his wants."

Shepard's gloved grip around my hands as I held my tea, still warm: I felt her intentions, brimming in hatred. Retribution for me. She would have done it—absolutely, without question. This rage about her had all the flavors I needed from her. Dashed with these justifications for how she and I desired and required one another to exist, filling these gaps. Patching these holes. Making up for our lacks early on.

Knowing that she would have killed for me like this, I felt satisfied by her. Cared for. Wanted by her.

_Loved._

"Thankfully," I continued on, "I don't need a father. Or a mother. In any sense of the words. As far as I'm concerned, I raised myself. I'm my own parent. I appreciate that you need the stability that I managed to learn by myself. The way you adore me…I see it as your own appreciation. Expressing it with your devotion. Validating me. You and I know how the rest of this story goes. That's all that matters to me."

Nodding against my hair, Shepard accepted my judgment.

She kept on holding me like this as the rest of the hours passed, nearing 9:00am. Long after I'd finished drinking my tea, and let her set the mug over the nearby table, I stayed in her arms. Submerging myself into her, into this black of her clothes; into this night of her mind, her murderous thoughts, even as she continued to sustain me in the physical world. Guarding me like a hound, Shepard wouldn't let me go. I was her domain, her property, and she would _never_ let anyone disrespect me or take me away from her.

As far as I knew, her actions with all of this spoke of her truest intentions.

Shepard had practically made me hers, officially, in this way. Taking care of me like this. With so much on her mind. I only wished she could have taken me to bed right then and there; taken me, finally, after so long. Claiming me for herself. Subverting all those years when no one else could ever lay claim to me.

This unrelenting comfort of her hold had already told me the words: _"I love you."_

Bleeding heart, bleeding for her, to be ready for her, for Shepard's truest ownership—I remained fully secure in her arms. Basking in this fantasy, this eventuality. Blooming open for her with eyes closed, seeing everything with her; forever glad that I had broken that cycle, even as this new one awaited us.

* * *

Once it was time, I decided that Shepard and I couldn't be seen arriving to the comm room together. It would have been hypocritical of us to do so. Especially after I had scolded Zaeed for doing the same, if not for the same reasons, starting this strange dynamic the two of us had now. So I made up my mind to leave my room first after getting dressed. I allowed Shepard to remain behind, giving her the relevant permissions to lock my door afterward. Keeping a ten minute delay between us seemed to be the best idea.

Shepard had promised to use the spare time to go over her intel on Subject Zero. She'd sent me off with the sweetest kiss, embracing me one last time. Swelling this smile on my face as I'd left for the elevator.

Nevertheless, I again struggled not to smile too much as I made my way to the command deck. Walking through the lab, I found Mordin wrapping up his current experiments. The two of us greeted one another as we headed to the comm room, exchanging light conversation about his progress with the seeker swarms. He seemed to notice my mood, but thought against commenting on it. I supposed it was no surprise as to the reasons behind my lightness. Dating the ship's captain afforded me few excuses, and little-to-no privacy. Not that I could complain. To some extent, I enjoyed the crew's fixations on us.

I knew that everyone was curious. I knew that they wondered about me, about us together.

As long as they kept from asking me any particularly invasive questions, I couldn't mind their curiosities.

When Mordin and I arrived to the comm room together, I was surprised to find Legion already here with Zaeed, the two of them standing side by side. I took my spot across from them on the other side: adjacent to the head of the table where Shepard would be soon. In a way, I had claimed this spot for myself, as Shepard's second-in-command. Legion having the spot directly across from me made the most sense, as it had played a large part in helping me bring our commander back. Hierarchies, always.

"There you are!" called Zaeed, sounding rather chipper. "I'm here early this time. See that, Lawson? I can play nice; follow the rules just fine. Bet you thought I'd be late again, didn't you?"

I really didn't understand why he cared so much.

Mordin humored him with a smile anyway, "Congratulations in order for accomplishment, Zaeed. Proud of you for being early. Tardiness would have surely earned consternation from Miranda—again. Folded arms and furrowed brow guaranteed reactions upon repeating mistake."

"I know, right? Wanted some kind of reward for my hard work, walking over here from the armory this soon. Got in my pre-mission exercise and everything. I'm feeling refreshed, that's for sure."

Legion didn't get it. "The armory is just down the hall. Is this a feat worthy of celebration?"

"No," grunted Zaeed. "It's only sarcasm, you goddamn machine. Hell, I can't even believe I'm talking to one of you. _A geth._ Used to blow you fuckers up for sport back in the day. Now here we are, working on the same bloody team together! Crazy how shit can change like that."

Last but not least, Garrus arrived, looking surprised to see everyone. "Looks like the gang's all here."

"Greetings, Archangel," said Legion.

Garrus grimaced as he took the spot next to Mordin. "Err, you know, Legion, calling me Archangel _might_ not be the best idea… I'm trying to keep some anonymity going. Every merc out in the Terminus Systems is supposed to think I'm dead. You keep calling me that, and you'll blow my cover."

"Garrus Vakarian…?"

"Just Garrus is fine. No need to be so formal."

"Acknowledged."

"Speaking of that," noticed Zaeed, "What the hell do you call everyone else, Legion? I'm curious now."

"Shepard-Commander. Operator Lawson. Dr. Solus. Dr. Chakwas. Mr. Moreau. Mr. Massani."

"Huh? Don't you start calling me the same as the old girl EDI! Do I look like a _Mr. Massani_ to you?"

"Zaeed," amended Legion.

"That's better," he accepted.

Garrus pondered, "What about Subject Zero? What do you think you'll call him when he joins?"

Mordin questioned, "Subject Zero…is male?"

Zaeed pointed out, "Didn't say Jack was a woman, either. With a name like that, I pictured some big burly criminal guy. Shaved head, bunch of tattoos. Biotic powers crashing everywhere. Throwing curses out all the time like a goddamn sailor. You know, the works. Kinda like me, actually. Just— _bigger."_

I chose to educate him: "For what it's worth, biotics aren't typically ones to focus on muscle gain. Especially human biotics, including Jack. There's no need for us to bother. Any biotic power will be stronger than what the human body can accomplish on its own. It would be a waste of time to pour all of that energy into working out when our minds can accomplish far more than mere physical strength."

"Yeah, sure, but Jack's a vanguard," he argued. "Pretty sure vanguards gotta be strong enough to be up close in the enemy's face like that. Need to withstand some hits. Can't do that if he's some pushover. Or a tall lanky something like Shepard is. Bet she'd fall over quick if she ever had to get in a real fight."

Legion repeated a line from Shepard's incomplete dossier: "Shepard-Commander is an apex predator."

Zaeed smirked in amusement. "You're goddamn right she is. Used to think infiltrators were like scared little rats scurrying around, picking people off like cowards. Then I watched her do her thing. She sure showed me what's what. Just shows you don't gotta be some big burly meathead to get the job done."

Right on time, Shepard entered the room.

Out of respect for her presence, everyone fell silent. Waiting in a comfortable mood as she walked behind Zaeed and Legion. Taking her place at the head of the table, adjacent to me. Near to me.

Glass cannon as she was, she still took up every inch of space around us. Muscled in mind, in greatness.

Somewhat foreboding, Shepard took a moment to assess everyone in the room. Finding our attention on her. Finding our patience. Even discovering our quiet questions over her sudden serious, beyond the usual scope of her hardened personality. There just seemed to be something… _more_ going on here.

She kept this seriousness about her as she spoke: "We've arrived at _Purgatory,_ the prison ship where they're keeping Subject Zero locked up. A turian by the name of Warden Kuril runs the place. He's not entirely on-board with us removing Jack from his care. He's not sure how, but it looks like Subject Zero has changed the ship itself somehow. The warden's trying to study the effects. Either way, he's promised to accept the transferred funds from Cerberus. He needs to play ball."

Garrus asked, "Think the warden might try to pull something? Keep us from finding Jack somehow?"

"It's possible," replied Shepard. "So we have to be on our guard. Our objective is to get Jack out of there alive. If Warden Kuril gets in our way, we deal with him. Subject Zero is too powerful for us to lose."

As the root of her gravity, Shepard looked to me. Down at the Cerberus logo on my uniform.

In the dossiers I'd sent her, I had also forwarded the classified Cerberus details about my involvement in shutting down that heinous Teltin facility on Pragia. No doubt Shepard had pored over every word of that report. Seeing for herself the severity of the situation up close; knowing what Jack had suffered.

Shepard understood—"There's one other thing I need to point out. Jack was traumatized as a child, at a Cerberus facility for biotic children. It's safe to say we might encounter more resistance on that end. This is a violent criminal we're talking about. Severe trauma isn't anything to mess around with. Be careful."

We each expressed our own understanding. Obliging her orders, her warnings.

"I want all hands on deck for this one. I'm not taking any chances with the warden. Let's head to the armory and gear up, then leave for the bridge. Joker should be docking us at _Purgatory_ as we speak."

Everyone filed out of the comm room, with Shepard tailing behind us.

As a group, we all chose our preferred weapons in the armory. Garrus went with an assault rifle and sniper rifle; Zaeed with his assault rifle and shotgun; Legion also with an assault rifle and its Widow sniper rifle; Shepard with her usual Widow and Razer pistol; and Mordin the same as me with a pistol and submachine gun. I surveyed the team as we prepared ourselves, wondering…

We had a fine mix of combat and tech users. Aside from the tech from her cloak and other passive implants, Shepard was pure combat in her strengths, as the glass cannon she'd always been. Mordin was more on the tech side with some light combat. Garrus and Zaeed leaned more toward relying on their guns, with some tech powers, as did Legion, with its sniping specialties and miniature combat drone.

I was the only one with any biotic capabilities. At least for now. Jack would obviously balance that out.

While we all headed to the bridge together, I did worry about this. About how I may have needed to lean on my biotic capabilities in the worst-case scenario. Of course I knew my way around my powers, but I was nowhere on Jack's level. Pragia had ensured that Subject Zero's biotics could reach the raw power of even a skilled asari commando. Just without the seasoned stamina that came with such skill.

Shepard gave the others a moment to chat with Joker before we left through the airlock.

Off to the side and out of earshot, she gave me this one-on-one instead: "Miranda, you know what I'm thinking."

Of course I did. "You're worried that Jack won't come quietly."

"I thought about asking you to change your uniform. But that would've only delayed the problem."

"Well, Zero's going to find out regardless," I said. "Whether it's this logo I have, or the one on the ship, it's unavoidable. I figured you might have to talk Jack down. If things somehow escalate to that point."

Shepard sharpened her severity. "I just need to stress something to you. I know how to deal with this situation. I can see it. Our last resort might be unavoidable. So I'm going to repeat what I told everyone earlier: our objective is to get Jack out of there alive. I'm completely serious. Do you understand me?"

Suddenly, it felt like we weren't on the same page now.

Not nearly on the same wavelength, the same frequency anymore.

She seemed to speak with a clairvoyance that I couldn't quite understand.

Her unique gift for analyzing any and all combat scenarios left me feeling my own lack in comparison.

Still, I told her, "Understood, Commander. I won't fail you."

Ominous, Shepard told me, "I'm counting on you, Miranda. I mean it."

She then had us leave with the rest of the team. Leaving through the docking cradle, to this prison ship.

Amplifying the significance of this situation, she made a point to not hold my hand. Unsettling me, deeply.

* * *

Our initial arrival at _Purgatory_ seemed harmless enough. Shepard led our group at the fore as we headed through the entrance hall. Heavily-guarded by Blue Suns mercs. Turians, humans, batarians. Armed and watching us. Though I had expected the ship to be…different. As the warden had said, warned about. Instead, I found what appeared to be a normal-looking area. Cold, emotionless steel and machinery working on as intended, lit up by the lights from the nearby stars and planets outside this wide window. Specs of dust brushing past us as we walked, approaching the armed mercenaries. This hollow material housing the torture and pain from the inmates that awaited us further inside the ship.

Completely normal—on the outside.

Instead, there was a _feeling_ that permeated the ship. As if the walls were about to bend into themselves at any moment. Almost like an indoctrination signal rang through this steel, this metal everywhere. I wondered if Jack's lifetime of trauma had somehow induced this signal throughout _Purgatory._ Unlocking consciousness itself this way. I wasn't entirely sure what that meant—that particular line from Subject Zero's dossier—so I could only speculate.

I supposed the more time we were to spend here, the more the environment would change.

I suspected as much, more, once the residing Blue Suns prison guard spoke to us, sounding so…lifeless:

"Welcome to _Purgatory,_ Commander Shepard. Your package is being prepped, and you can claim it shortly. As this is a high-security vessel, you'll need to relinquish your weapons before we proceed."

Testing this strangeness, Shepard merely said, "We're not doing that."

The guard said nothing in response.

He just…stared at her from within the blinding-white slot of his helmet.

Standing behind Shepard—Mordin, Garrus, Zaeed, and Legion all exchanged looks with me. Sharing our unspoken suspicion with this oddity. This deadness. This mindlessness standing before us, plain as day.

Swaggering toward us in confidence, Warden Kuril appeared through the nearby door.

"As expected," he noted, smug. Unaffected by the rest. "Commander, I'm Warden Kuril, and this is my ship. Your weapons will be returned on the way out. You must realize this is just a standard procedure."

Unaffected by his smugness, Shepard doubled-down. "I'm not surrendering my gun. Period."

Kuril made a pointless attempt at staring her down.

Shepard remained nonplussed. Obstinate. Finding more about him than even I could realize.

The warden then suddenly changed his mind: "Guards, let them proceed. Our facility is more than secure to handle a few armed guests." The prison guard in front of us stepped aside, as ordered. "We're bringing Jack out of cryo. As soon as the funds clear, you can be on your way. If you'll follow me to Outprocessing for the pickup, Commander."

"Let's go," she accepted, leading us onward. Following Kuril through the door.

We entered to what appeared to be a raised hallway, glassed and sequestered as we overlooked a larger part of the ship, brightly-lit. Various removable cells piled on top of one another along the far walls across and below, with steel walkways for the prison guards to patrol and survey the areas. Large, metallic cranes curled and shifted about everywhere as they moved the cells from place to place.

Warden Kuril led the tour: "Cellblock Two. As you can see, we keep tight control over the population. Each prisoner's cell is a self-contained, modular unit. I've blown a few out the airlocks as an example."

Through this hallway we passed, I spotted a number of LOKI mechs standing guard over these cells, quite unlike the modular units the warden just described. Here, the inmates lay on the ground, as if dead—again. But differently. Slightly different, these inmates appeared to be somewhat at ease. Giving into this slumber, they allowed themselves to forget their plight.

The warden didn't seem to care for them. "This ship is made up of thirty cell blocks identical to this one—we house thousands of criminals. We can put the whole place in lockdown on a moment's notice." He stopped, facing Shepard once more, emphasizing: "Nothing goes wrong here."

Shepard had done her research. "You used to be in law enforcement on Palaven, didn't you? I'm guessing you wanted your own way to make sure these types of criminals couldn't get away anymore."

Kuril smirked, self-satisfied. "Perhaps I did. _Keep the criminals in space and the galaxy is a safer place._ Palaven was unfortunately ill-equipped to adopt such a mantra. For all of our homeworld's military might, our government was soft. Unwilling to make the hard choices. Not unlike the rest of the governments out there. I'm sure your turian companion can agree with me on that."

Garrus stiffened. "Maybe I could, Warden. I doubt our government would go for something like this."

"Of course not. Someone had to stand up and make the galaxy safe. The Turian Hierarchy wouldn't take action, so I did. Besides, we can cut corners that governments can't. And each prisoner brings in a fee from his homeworld. These individuals are violent, and their home planets pay well to keep them here."

Shepard questioned, "What happens if the homeworld doesn't want to pay?"

"We explain that we can't maintain the prisoner without their help, so we'll be forced to release him back onto his homeworld. At an unspecified place and time."

I nearly scoffed in disgust. "So it's an extortion racket."

Kuril defended himself, "You don't have to agree with my methods, but don't question my motives. These are despicable people and I am keeping them locked up. Not to mention, you're here for Jack: the meanest handful of violence and hate I've ever encountered. Dangerous, crazy, and very powerful. Safe to say I'm surprised. Last I heard, Jack isn't Cerberus' biggest fan. You'll have your work cut out for you."

Shepard brushed that aside. "Let's get on with this."

Warden Kuril continued leading us down this elevated hallway.

Glancing around at these near-lifeless inmates, I asked, "Have you had any escape attempts?"

Kuril responded, "We're in space—they have nowhere to go, and they know it. Thankfully, these recent changes throughout the ship have left the inmates…subdued. I couldn't tell you why. It's lessened our need to maintain strict patrols. But still, we exercise extreme caution. These are dangerous individuals. We have many ways to control the population as necessary." He led us through one final door, to another hall, stopping here to say: "I'm going to confirm that the funds from Cerberus cleared. Outprocessing is straight down this hallway. Just keep going past the interrogation room and the supermax wing." Menacing, he stared at Shepard one last time. "I'll catch up with you later…Shepard."

As the warden walked off in another direction, Shepard only glanced at him.

She led us down this next hallway, giving her order: "Be on your guard."

We each conveyed our understanding, following after her.

Down this next winding hall, footsteps clanking against metal, we passed by a few Blue Suns prison guards standing watch over the cranes beyond. Watching as those machines moved the cells from place to place. Completely focused on those movements, as if they were a grand spectacle worthy of their fixations, their focused attention. They continued to show no awareness of us whatsoever, as if we didn't exist. As if we weren't right behind them, walking by to our destination. They couldn't perceive us.

Even the supposed interrogation room had nothing going on in there. Just another prison guard standing outside the glass. Staring into the pervasive red light in the room. Staring off at nothing. Nothing at all.

Zaeed grumbled, "The fuck's going on in here?"

Mordin shook his head. "Unknown. Atmosphere unsettling. Foreboding. Guards and inmates similar."

Garrus wondered, "Think they're indoctrinated somehow? Looks like they might be."

Legion speculated, "Organic indoctrination may be probable, given Jack's severe suffering and trauma. We observe numerous parallels between this indoctrination, and influence from the Old Machines."

I really hoped that Jack wasn't actually giving off some sort of indoctrination signal this way. Because something like that was bound to influence the _Normandy_ and everyone else aboard. So it couldn't have been that. It couldn't have been that at all. Otherwise, we were all at risk.

Everyone except Shepard, of course.

We soon arrived to the end of the hall, with a sign on the wall designating this location as the Outprocessing entrance. As we entered the plain, unremarkable area, well-lit and roomy, I spotted another door on the opposite side. Across. Yet as we walked over there, the nearby technician claimed that our actual destination was through that door.

Shepard spotted the thick writing on the wall quite literally designating this location as _Outprocessing._

She approached the far door anyway, opening it. And then going no further. Stopping us as well.

Staring at the inside of another cell. Not an actual room at all.

Warden Kuril's voice sounded over the intercom. _"My apologies, Shepard. You're more valuable as a prisoner than a customer. Drop your weapons and proceed into this open cell. You will not be harmed."_

Having expected this, Shepard signaled for us to take cover along the nearby desks and tables. We hurried to do so; she activated her tactical cloak, expecting an ambush from the hallway.

Kuril knew we weren't going to cooperate. _"Activate systems!"_

Several prison guards burst through the opposite door.

Getting those shields down—Garrus and I chained our Overload strikes against them. Stripping those defenses away. Health open and exposed, Mordin and Zaeed burned them away: inferno grenades and Incinerate shots made short work of them.

As the mechs attempted to move in next, Legion took action. Hacking the units straightaway, it sent the machines right back out into the hall. Leading the way to the supermax wing. We all followed them, watching as Legion's hacked mechs attacked the guards in our way. Pushing past them to get to the next door, the next area overlooking the cryo chamber where Jack was, right outside the full panel windows.

A lone technician stood in our way, just by the ship's security controls.

Before he could shoot at us with his meager weapon, Shepard ended him. Firing a single shot from her pistol. Right through his eyes. He collapsed to the ground, falling out over the metallic surface, gone.

Shepard led the way to the control panel.

Just below, outside the window, was a raised platform. The cryostasis chamber was there, plain to see.

I knew—"If we hack that control, every door on the cellblock opens. We can't predict how dangerous the inmates will be once they're able to run free. They might _wake up,_ like those guards did back there."

Mordin also knew—"However, required if we want to get Jack out of stasis."

Shepard hacked the controls. "Expect chaos. Stay on your guard."

Another crane moved from the nearby wall, pulling the chamber up from the platform. Nearby YMIR mechs activated in a sudden alarm, watching the crane move; pulling Jack up from that cold, cold mist, revealing her form there, her neck and scarred limbs locked to the metal.

Shaved head with sharp, symmetrical, barbered spots of clean scalp, and several tattoos per Zaeed's speculations, indeed, but no further—I wasn't surprised by the rest, by the black motorcycle vest she wore, sleeveless style revealing her relatively thin arms sleeved by those tattoos everywhere. Baggy leather pants and combat boots to match, all-black, along with the severe eyeliner over her sight. Slowly waking, blinking, taking in this light, this awareness about her. Pure renegade, a maverick, and a punk.

She wasn't really what I expected…

Legion observed, "Jack is smaller than her reputation suggests."

Garrus agreed, "You can say that again…"

"Yeah, no shit," muttered Zaeed. "Proved me wrong, she did. I'll be damned."

Shepard hummed in a stern way. No doubt disapproving of Jack's skinhead tattoos over her biceps.

Fully awoken, Jack ripped free from the metal binding her to the chamber. One by one, she eviscerated herself from those restraints. She only lowered her wide, sculpted head once, before taking in her surroundings: the handful of YMIR mechs hulking toward her in warning. Intending to end her, swiftly.

Powerful biotics and kinetic barriers flaring, scowl twisted and snarling: Jack charged clear through the mechs in her way. Bolting ahead, Jack phased from one spot to the next. The massive collision in between detonated the YMIR mechs. Cutting clear through their defenses—shields, armor, and all. Detonating, exploding, the machines went off, taking down the other mechs with it.

Already, Jack was off and running into the cellblock, leaving this mess of flames and debris in her wake.

Shepard hurried through the nearest door. "Let's move—after her, now!"

Down the ramp we rushed to the next area, to where Jack's cryo chamber was. Surrounded by the flaming remains of those mechs, destroyed upon the scorched ground. We kept on following Shepard as she took the only path Jack could have used, leading out of this room. Past another hall, following the sounds of heavy fighting from the inmates and prison guards who'd clearly woken up from their strange inebriation before. Emergency-red lighting our way, the warden barked his orders over the intercom:

_"All guards: restore order! Lethal force authorized! But don't kill Jack! Techs: lockdown! Lockdown!"_

The entire ship shuddered in the midst of this chaos. Order breaking down, it seemed as if this place would go down with us still on it. We only had so much time to get Jack and leave this place alive.

As we reached a forced opening in the wall—broken through by Jack, more than likely—we had a view of the open area beneath the upper hallways. Cranes adrift, modular cell units destroyed: red lighting shined brighter from the raging flames. Smoke billowing everywhere, sight obscured, we saw and heard the prison guards fighting against the inmates, who'd all somehow procured their own weapons.

Shepard gestured for us to push through first, before activating her cloak once more.

The team and I ran ahead.

Taking cover along the odd spaces of shielding along the short bridges, or fallen cells, we worked with whatever we had in front of us. Trying to see through this smoke, this fire obscuring us, too stubborn.

Repeating the same process as before, we fought through these hostiles quickly as we could. Garrus and I removing those shields in our way. Mordin and Zaeed repeating the flames around us; increasing them exponentially, flaming the guards and flaying them alive. Legion dealing with the mechs, turning them against their masters. All with the added efficiency of Shepard's precision sniper shots—she remained farther behind us, finishing off anyone else in our way. Clearing our next paths forward.

Rushing through more halls, more open cell areas.

Killing more guards, and any inmates in our way. They were all expendable.

We followed Jack's trail of destruction, all while listening to the ship's computer warn us over the intercom about relevant damage. Hull breaches. Life support cutting off. No survivors, anywhere.

Eventually, we reached one final area.

Inmates screaming, running for their lives. Some taking cover.

Others were exposed, gunned down without remorse.

All from the single turian standing perched somewhere in a corner of the room, as if elevated above everyone, everything. Durable shields glowing as translucent blue over his armor, Warden Kuril remained perched there on his moral high ground. Sneering down at everyone else before him, as this chaotic red flared through these surroundings. More so once he continued to shoot these prisoners over and over, leaving none alive. Blood pooling out everywhere before him, thickening, he then turned his attention on us—firing a warning shot with his rifle. Making us all scatter into cover, for safety.

Shepard remained hidden in plain sight somewhere behind us. Cloaked in her own safety.

The warden couldn't see her.

He only boasted in her general direction, to no one—"You're valuable, Shepard. I could've sold you and lived like a king! But you're too much trouble. At least I can recapture Jack—!"

Reddened rage, berserk.

Quickness of a biotic charge phasing through flesh. Transporting someone from one spot to another.

Jack charged straight through Kuril's form. Collapsing him to the ground. Dead, already.

"Clean kill," spotted Mordin, whispering behind cover. "Simple. Saved us trouble of defeating him."

Crouching next to him, Zaeed nodded. "You got that right. Hell of a girl."

Jack then reappeared not too far away. Finding the rest of us hiding here together.

Glaring at us, teeth bared and growling, like a cornered animal.

Tattooed hands clawed in warning, preparation.

Mistrusting us. Biotics flaring around her form once more. About to attack us. About to provoke me.

Command echoing wide, Shepard called out to her, "Jack!"

Startled, Jack stopped.

Naturally, she couldn't see where Shepard was. She looked around and around. Trying to find the source of that powerful voice. Unable to spot even the glimmer of Shepard's cloak in this pervasive red lighting.

Jack demanded to know, "Who said my name? Where the fuck are you hiding?! Show yourself already!"

"My name is Commander Shepard. I'm here to recruit you for my team. We're not here to hurt you."

Some recognition softened her raspy voice—textured, scarred, and corroded from years of drugs and alcohol: "Shepard…?"

"That's right," confirmed Shepard. "You know who I am. Maybe you've heard of me."

Tremors from more explosions throughout the ship shook our immediate area; uncaring, Jack continued to stand there, thinking. Remembering: "Yeah, I've heard of you… Why the hell is someone from the Alliance trying to get me on their team? You seriously think I belong in the fucking military? Is that it?"

"I'm not with the Alliance for this mission. I'm putting together a team to take down the Collectors. I can tell you all about it later. But right now, this ship is going down in flames. We have to get out of here."

"No way!" argued Jack. "If you want me on your team, then you'd better give me more than that. I don't give a shit about this ship. I don't give a damn about dying. Because if I go down, you're all going with me! So either put more on the table and make this worth my while—or get ready to die. You saw what I'm capable of. Screw this up and you're my next target…wherever the hell you are."

Voice echoing wider, higher from her vantage point somewhere, Shepard warned her, "Jack, don't be stupid. I have my sniper rifle trained on you— _right now._ The second I pull this trigger, you're dead. Doesn't matter to me whether you care about dying or not. If you threaten me again, I will end you."

This had to be a bluff. It must have been. She had stressed the importance of bringing Jack in alive.

Jack didn't know the same. Clearly, she had heard the tales of Shepard's skill as a sniper, as an infiltrator. She faltered somewhat under the weight of those words. That warning from the Savior of the Citadel.

Saving face—"Why would you do that if you want me on your team? That doesn't make any sense…"

"That depends on you. We're in the middle of a negotiation now. Give me your terms."

"Yeah, and _you_ have the upper-hand!"

"Thanks for pointing that out," mocked Shepard. "You're also wasting time. Tell me what you want. And _be reasonable_ about this. If you go overboard, I'm shutting this down. So don't fucking test me."

Sour in her lesser bargaining position, Jack glanced around this flaming space littered with corpses.

The only real item of interest…was the sight of the rest of us taking cover not too far away from her.

Jack spoke up, "Tell your people to get their asses out here. One at a time. I wanna look at them myself."

The others glanced at me in worry. At my uniform. This logo over my chest.

Grimacing, I muttered out, "Shit…"

Shepard had to have seen this coming. "Have it your way. Everyone, introduce yourselves. One by one."

Unspoken, we each understood the inherent order to go in. More or less.

Garrus took his chances and emerged from cover first. "Hey there, Jack," he tried. "The name's Garrus. Garrus Vakarian. I…used to be with C-Sec a while back. Now I'm on the commander's team. I was with her before when she defeated Saren. I, err, hope we can get along just fine. If you're up for it, that is."

Narrowing her eyes, Jack seemed to recognize him, too. "Bird-face who saved the Council. I remember you." She pointed off to the side. "You're fine, I guess. You can go over there." As Garrus followed her instructions, Jack queried: "Right, who's next?"

Non-threatening, Mordin followed. "Nice to meet you, Jack. Mordin Solus. Doctor, former STG. Had own clinic on Omega treating patients when Shepard found me, recruited me. Haven't been on team for very long, but hopeful about prospects. Would like to get to know you. Perhaps discuss strength of biotics. Possible strain on body, aftereffects. May recommend methods to alleviate pains from overexertion."

"That's…interesting," commented Jack, somewhat swayed by him. "I'll think about it. Go stand next to bird-face." Mordin also did as he was told. "I know there's more of you hiding back there. Come on!"

Trying not to grumble under his breath, Zaeed went next. "Yeah, so, I'm the ex-merc of the group. Name's Zaeed Massani. Bet you've never heard of me. Founded these Blue Suns motherfuckers who used to guard this place. That was twenty years ago. Probably before you were even born, kid."

Jack snorted. "Please. I'm twenty-four years old! Do I really look like a kid to you? Don't make me laugh!" She waved him off. "Get out of my face, _grandpa._ Go be with your friends." Holding back several choice words, Zaeed joined Garrus and Mordin. "Next!" Just as Legion made itself visible, Jack recoiled. "What the hell is this thing? Is that a geth!? Are you shitting me?"

"It's my personal synthetic assistant," lied Shepard.

"Oh." Jack…actually believed her? "Well, whatever. Can it talk?"

Legion said, "Greetings, Subject Jack. We are Legion, a terminal of the geth. It is…good to meet you."

"Huh… Okay, _this_ is new. A real live geth's talking to me. I could get used to this."

Apprehensive, knowing what awaited, Legion took its time with walking over to the others.

Oddly patient, as if she knew I was the last person left, Jack waited for me to reveal myself.

Even though I trusted Shepard to handle this as needed, I hated having no other way out. Because we all knew what would happen the moment Jack saw the front of my uniform. Even with this ship's integrity failing by the second, our surroundings burning more and more, I couldn't make time move any faster.

Completely unprepared, I didn't know what else to do.

So I stood up, allowing Jack to see me…while I kept my back to her. For now.

Jack blurted out, "Whoa! Shepard, who's the babe on your team? _Damn!"_

I shut my eyes, neck burning already. Mortified. _Knowing_ she was busy staring at my ass.

Had this been a lighter situation, I wagered that the others might have laughed. Right now, they didn't.

I had to speak for myself. Still refusing to face her—"Hello, Jack. My name is Miranda Lawson. I'm Shepard's second-in-command. And I'm a biotic, just like you."

In her pause, Jack appeared to also recognize me. Or at least my name.

"Another biotic? Sure, that's cool," she accepted. "So why aren't you looking at me? Something wrong with your face?"

I sighed and turned around. "No, there's nothing wrong with my face…"

Jack was so fixated on my face, in fact, that she failed to notice the rest about me. "Yeah, you don't say. I believe you." She ambled over to me. Combat boots, motorcycle vest, and baggy leather pants shifting. Her short stature quite unable to reach anywhere near my height over her, heels and all. "What, you scared of me? I know I took down that guy no problem. The damn warden, I mean. He was a real pain in the ass. He deserved it!"

"I agree with you," I said, hoping to placate her more. "He was an unscrupulous man. A slave trader."

"Un…scrupulous," repeated Jack. Slowly. Learning the word. "Gonna have to look that one up later. Pretty sure I can figure out what it means, since you called him a slave trader. _He_ was the bad guy. Not me—"

And there it was.

There was the moment.

The moment when Jack made to gawk at my breasts, and found my loyalty branding my leather instead.

Splitting to violence, Jack's body glowed with her biotics, raging: "You're with fucking _Cerberus—?!"_

Right as she'd raised her voice, Shepard had locked this aim.

Firing at the ground near Jack's feet. Snapping Jack's attention back. Forcing her biotics to calm.

"I'm stopping you there, Jack. You're not allowed to attack my teammates. That isn't part of the deal."

If I didn't know any better, Shepard sounded closer to me than she was before. So much closer.

Jack couldn't tell the difference, yelling upward, "Bullshit! You lied to me! If you know who I am, then you know how Cerberus messed me up! There's no way I'm joining you! Not after you pulled this shit with me!" Baring her claws once more, she made up her mind: "You know what? Screw your damn deal! I'm taking you fuckers down with me." Eyes wild with fury, she was about to lunge right at me. "Starting with _you._ Cerberus bitch… I bet we could have lots of fun together before this ship blows up."

Garrus, Legion, Zaeed, and Mordin were about to draw their weapons.

I held my hand out to them. Stopping their attempts. They only would've made things worse.

I backed away instead. "Jack… Stop this. I'm not your enemy."

Callous, Jack laughed at me. "Oh, yeah. I'm gonna have _tons_ of fun with you." Gritting her teeth, she gave me her worst warning, unforgiving: _"This is personal."_ Stepping closer, matching my steps backward one for one, forward, she kept on—"I'm going to charge at you, see? Just once. Not bad enough to kill you. Yeah, I can tell how strong your shields are. How much you can take. So I'll hit you hard enough to bring you to your knees. Keep you from fighting back; wasting more of our precious time together. And then? Then, I'm gonna make you scream for me. While this ship. Burns. Down…" The back of my heel reached a wall. Forcing me to stop. "Think we can go out with a bang? _If_ you know what I mean… There's no sound in space, so no one will hear you while you die. That sounds perfect to me…"

I could have fought back.

I could have defended myself.

I could have sent a warp strike against her kinetic barriers, disintegrating them.

But that was all I could have done—without going overboard. Either way, Jack would have promptly charged at me. Killing me outright. Instead of holding herself back, as she'd threatened to do.

As an explosion went off somewhere overhead, shaking me to my core, I maintained my composure.

I remembered my orders. My direct orders from Shepard to bring this crazed lunatic back alive.

And so I could only stare Jack down while she gave me that sick grin of hers; while she again charged her biotics. Zeroing in on me. Aiming her velocity at me. Charging right at me.

But in those seconds between Jack charging up and attacking, something shifted.

_Something changed._

Glimmer of the surrounding emergency-red reflecting off of something. Someone. In between us.

Still cloaked, Shepard stepped somewhere in front of me. Guarding me. Shielding me with her body—

Right as Jack charged forward, into her, instead of me.

_"Shepard!"_

Split seconds of speed, of change.

I only blinked and Jack had sent Shepard flying elsewhere. Unable to take the same as me. Cracking straight through that glass of her, breaking her cannon. Breaking her body. Very nearly breaking Shepard's spirit as she landed upon the ground, _hard._ Bones so broken I'd heard them split and crack from her skeleton upon Jack's collision; upon falling to the ground; skidding to a stop. That she didn't even make a sound made me assume the worst. Made me feel the absolute worst. Just the phasing sounds from her cloak deactivating had reached me. Her crumpled form lay there, somewhere too far away from me. Breaking me as she twitched in place. Unable to get up at all.

Mind shutting off, emotions taking over—the red in my eyes grew harsher than the lights around.

Fearful all of a sudden, Jack tried to back away from me. _"Holy shit—"_

Biotics lashing her through her barriers, grabbing her—

I raised her up, threw her higher. Slamming her against the fucking wall. High up. Way up. Making sure she stared right down at me, immobilized as she was. Making sure that Shepard could see me make an example out of this reckless fool. This scared little child now staring down at me with this fear. This same fear she should have given me before, instead of having the gall to assume she could cross me—and get away with it.

"Jack, you've made a terrible mistake," I taunted. "You should have stopped while you were ahead!"

Face contorting in pain, Jack made her pathetic attempts to reach me: "Hey, come on, Miranda…!"

"Don't bother. In fact, I should correct myself: you've made a _fatal_ mistake! I've had enough of you…"

Repeating Jack's trauma—on purpose, not on purpose—I rammed her against the wall again. And again. Over and over again, pulling out these cries of anguish from her. Blood spattering against that wall, red blending into all, trailing thickly from her the black of her vest. Steadily disintegrating her barriers. Cutting off her defenses, her reactions by repeating this pain. Sending her right back to that _justified_ mental state of her as that helpless, terrified little girl. Embodying her worst fears about Cerberus, in the flesh, if only because of her fucking mistake. Turning into everything she hated. Living in her hatred, even as those tears ran down her eyes, faster now. My own biotics ripping through to her limbs, coming close to tearing all of her scars wide open again. Nearing her end. Steadily, close enough. More suffering, more anguish, more punishment and retribution for her absolute nerve in daring to do what she had done.

_Exactly as she deserved._

Somewhere, reaching me in this emergency, Shepard groused out in her own pain: "Miranda…stop! I said _stop!_ _Stand down!"_

As if her very words controlled my biotics on their own, I stopped. Immediately. Shocked back to reality.

I had to obey her. No matter what.

I'd nearly forgotten myself…

Backing away now, I could only watch as Jack collapsed to the ground. Barely breathing at first. Forcing herself to hold on, to not fall into some comatose state…as she likely could have, should have. Too stubborn, too determined to stay alive, Jack refused to keep her eyes closed. She tried to stand instead.

As a terrible coincidence, yet another explosion went off somewhere up above.

An earthquake of sudden movement all around us—one of those giant cranes collapsed from up top, falling down. Creaking as disused metal engulfed in flames. About to end _me_ this time.

Reacting quicker than I could in this state, Garrus pulled me backward all of a sudden.

Yet now this flaming crane separated Jack from me—and Shepard as well. The two of them marooned on that side of these fires, this fallen metal. I could but watch as Jack glared at me one last time. Almost faltering in her rare respect of my power. She then limped off in Shepard's direction. Using her waning powers to levitate Shepard's unconscious form from the ground. Taking Shepard away with her; disappearing off into another direction, through a door. Down a hallway. Off into the unknown.

Something about this energy she'd left behind: Jack wanted me to follow her.

_Only me._

I saw a clear path to take the long way around this hazard in front of us.

Turning to the group, I found Mordin, Garrus, Legion, and Zaeed staring at me in worry. Weapons drawn now. Prepared to give chase, and to fight if needed. Whatever it took to get Shepard back safely.

_"I'm counting on you, Miranda. I mean it."_

I made up my mind—"Everyone, get back to the ship. Clear a path to the _Normandy._ I'm going to bring them back myself. Both of them. I have to do this on my own."

Zaeed sputtered, "Have you lost your mind?! That girl's dangerous! You're gonna face her alone?"

"Severe injuries," counseled Mordin. "Jack's capabilities limited. Should not be terrible threat. Not anymore. Problem with Cerberus, not with team as whole. Diplomacy, negotiations necessary."

Legion knew, "Subject Jack appeared to recognize Operator Lawson's name. This may be advantageous."

"Yes, I'll be fine," I stressed. "We don't have much time! Go, now! All of you!"

They still didn't want to let me do this.

Garrus was the one to say, "Yes, Ma'am!" Complying first. Rallying the others—"Come on, let's move!"

Reluctant, they each kept me in their sights as they ran off ahead. Clearing the path, as ordered.

As they left, I took this long way around the burning crane.

I quickly found the path that Jack had left behind in her wake: this clear line of darker red. This trail of blood. Fresh blood glimmering in the severe lighting of this place. Leading me through that door Jack had exited. Down this next hallway, filled with malfunctioning equipment from the ship, electrical fires sparking and worsening. Weak, useless sprinklers attempted to put out the fires. As much as that cresting water only bounced off of my shields, they did the same to the flames for all I knew. Pointless.

Almost as pointless as Shepard very nearly sacrificing herself for me.

Breathing normally now, able to process that event, I couldn't help this anger surfacing through me.

As much as her bones had broken on impact, my heart had followed. Breaking for her. Broken in panic.

Sniffling my emotions back, I kept breathing in and out. In and out. Blinking back this blur to my sight, reds and darker reds and open flames all blending into one as watercolors, at once opaque and obscure.

Because if I lost her somehow…I might as well have let myself die on this ship.

Burning out in space, exactly as Shepard had done before.

Jack included, all three of our lives were at stake here.

I tracked her down to another red-lit hallway. Darker. Emptier. Worse off than all the rest.

Knocked out and facing me, Shepard lay upon the ground. On her side. Eyes closed, her now-scarred face plastered over the metal beneath her. The black of her stealth suit absorbed every single shred of light in here. Refracting in shadows, the material of her clothes. Even the natural shimmer of her tied-back hair appeared dulled now. Dimmer. Darkened in this moment, in the other shadow crossing her.

That shadow from Jack's form. Standing, but just barely. Blood slipped down her tattooed skin. Starker shadows splayed across her face. The dark, dark red crafted the sculpt of her strong jaw; the bridge of her nose, perfectly straight; the thick roundness of her full lips, twisted into that sneer as she observed me. Taking me in with the sharpness of her eyes, russet-red in the hatred of this confrontation.

Spotting that gun in her hand, I knew what this was.

She had stolen Shepard's Razer pistol from her hip. Leaving the Widow folded over her back, ignored.

I let my hands twitch. Stopping myself from reaching for my own pistol, or my submachine gun.

Jack aimed that gun right at me. "Drop your guns, Princess. _Now."_

I complied with her demands. Removing both of my guns from my sides. Setting them down, away.

She knew damn well that I didn't _need_ my weapons to take her out. Not while she was weakened.

"Don't even think about it," warned Jack. "The second you aim those biotics at me again, it's over. We're done! Either you or the commander gets a bullet. I'll be the one who gets to choose."

I had to keep my composure. I had to remember my orders this time. _Or else._

"Tell me what you want, then. Why did you insist on us having this out?"

"Because I wanna see what you have to say. If you could seriously convince me to join Cerberus. _Cerberus!_ After what they did to me, I should be dead in some ditch somewhere. But guess what? I survived! So what the hell makes you different from the rest of them? I bet you're all the same."

"We're not all the same," I insisted. "I believe you know this already. You know who I am. Don't you?"

Jack scoffed; trying to play it off. "Yeah, maybe. So what? That doesn't prove shit."

"On the contrary. It proves everything. Tell me where you know my name from. This is important."

Shifting her eyes from side to side, she recalled: "Miranda Lawson… I heard that name a bunch of times. Back on Pragia. The Teltin facility where they kept me locked up when I was a kid. Think I heard it the most not long before I escaped. The scientists and the guards were fucking terrified of you. Always paranoid you were gonna shut the place down. You're one of the Illusive Man's top dogs, aren't you?"

"Yes, Jack," I replied, glad that we had gotten somewhere. "That was me. This happened ten years ago. You were only fourteen or so. I was finally able to tour the facility for myself. I saw…how inhumane the conditions were. You and the other children didn't deserve that type of treatment."

Jack had to challenge my memory: "What didn't we deserve, huh? Prove to me you were there!"

A very specific memory: "There was a courtyard in the facility. Partly overrun with vegetation from the outside world. The scientists set up an arena there. They would order you to fight other children. You had to hurt them. Possibly even kill them." Jack remembered the same. Her face fell with the same memory. Her emotions rose up with the same recollection. "Any time you resisted, they would shock you. Make you feel pain. Discourage you from going against your murderous instincts. But whenever you successfully acted on those instincts, they would inject you with pleasurable narcotics. If anything, I'm certain you still get warm feelings in the middle of a fight. That is how they conditioned you to feel."

Possessed by that process, Jack inhaled deeply, admitting, "Yeah… Yeah, that sounds about right."

"They wouldn't let me talk to you. I wanted to interview you; assess your state of mind for myself. But I didn't need to see you to know those people had abused and tortured you. So I ordered them to shut the place down—as you said. I had my plans to get you and the other children to safety. I'd found it highly convenient that the breakout started not long after I gave that order. That was when you were able to escape. I wouldn't be surprised if the scientists and the guards orchestrated the so-called accident themselves."

"Probably… Felt like it. I guess it's good to know you were there. You…tried to help me out? Damn…"

Somewhere far off, I heard the sounds of the ship nearly collapsing in half. Imminent danger above all, and yet Jack didn't seem to care. Too muddied within her memories, her emotions, she couldn't find the will to worry about our situation. Whatever happened, we could only move forward once I pushed her.

I glanced down at Shepard on the ground. Still breathing. But still unconscious. Fully blacked out.

All I wanted was to collect her in my arms and get her to safety. Get her the medical care she needed.

I looked to Jack again. Her emotions _seemed_ to be our way out. Yet something told me this was a risk.

A risk I needed to take in the middle of this emergency.

I brought up to her: "Jack, I'm aware that you entered the facility when you were four years old. You were there for ten years—all by your lonesome. What did the scientists tell you about your parents?"

Having lowered that pistol by now, Jack shared with me, "They said…that my parents were dead. That's why they took me in. Because I was supposed to be an orphan. They—didn't want me out on the streets. Not as a biotic kid, anyway. I was _too valuable_ or whatever. I never really thought twice about it."

"I'm telling you now that information was a lie. Those people saw your potential and kidnapped you. Your parents are still alive, still searching for you. To this day, they never gave up on trying to find you."

Jack gripped the gun in her hand.

She growled in a controlled rage. Slamming her hand—and Shepard's pistol—against her forehead. Inflicting pain on herself to stop from getting too emotional in front of me; to stop from crying all of a sudden.

"What the fuck!?" she shouted. "Are you fucking serious? Why would you tell me that?! Are _you_ lying!?"

"Jack," I tried. "I'm not lying to you. I swear, I'm not! Once we return to our ship, I can forward the proof to you. Straight from our Cerberus databases. It's all there."

Injuries and all, Jack paced around. "Shit… _shit!"_ she cursed, over and over again. "Damnit, why would you do this to me? _Why?_ Why the FUCK would you give me hope?! Actually making me regret this last stand bullshit, going out in a blaze of glory?" She stopped, raging at me—"Are you out of your fucking mind?!"

Yet another explosion went off somewhere, the aftershock rumbling beneath my feet. Both of us felt it.

But only Jack continued to flail.

Forcing my own calm, I urged her, "You don't have to keep living like this. You're not alone anymore." Jack didn't know where to aim Shepard's gun anymore. And not once— _not once_ —had she aimed it at Shepard at all. "I know you look up to her. Commander Shepard. You don't have to say it. You don't have to deny it, either." Quieted once more, Jack wouldn't look at me. She stared off elsewhere. Listening with such grave intent. "I'm assuming you watched the vids. When she saved the Citadel. You watched her fight to save everyone. Wishing that someone would fight that hard for you, too." Jack shook her head in denial. Trying not to cry. But that was it. "I promise you…Shepard can be your champion. You just have to give her a chance. You _have_ to give this team of ours a chance!"

"I wanna believe you. I want to… _so bad._ But the only thing I know is pain. Anger. Loss. _Betrayal!"_

"I know," I soothed. "Shepard is the same. I…am the same. And look where we are now." Listening as Jack still struggled to contain her emotions, I took this next risk. I walked over to her. Gently, I set my hand over her shoulder, blood and muscle and all. "I need you to believe in the commander. So long as you make a true effort with her, she won't fail you. You can trust her with your life. I give you my word."

By some miracle, Jack forced out the words, "Okay… Okay, fine. I'll go with you, all right? I'll join your damn team. I'll fucking go!"

"Thank you, Jack… Now, not to ruin the moment, but we have to get moving. Do you understand me?"

"Yeah, I get it. It's fine. Let's just get the hell out of here!"

Quickly, I retrieved my guns. Setting them back over my sides.

For the time being, Jack placed Shepard's pistol over her own hip. I had to trust her with this.

Yet when I returned to her, she expected the worst. Nearly flinching—Jack expected me to knock her out and take her with me that way. And I probably would have… But as I glanced at Shepard, I decided that would've been too cruel.

I ordered her instead, "Jack, I need you to conjure a biotic field. A bubble. Keep it over us as we escape the ship and get back to the _Normandy._ I won't take any chances with the debris that could fall on our heads as we're moving. This should also keep us safe from any fires in our way. Do you have enough energy to do this?"

Sounding winded already, Jack still said, "Yeah… Yeah, I can get us there. I can do it."

Not wanting to take any chances, I knelt down to Shepard on the ground.

Taking her in my arms.

Wishing I could take the time to stroke her face; to give in to these emotions nearly tearing me from the inside out. Yet I merely conveyed to Jack that I was ready—she grunted in her pained effort as she expanded a biotic field around us, the transparent blue glimmering in her might. I then followed her as she led the way, back the way we came. Through the single path filled with bodies of dead prisoners and prison guards, all lined as our guide. Guiding us in our team's footsteps; leading us back out to _Purgatory's_ exit.

The whole way, I thanked my foresight. Constant barrages of falling ceilings, collapsed equipment, and sparking electrical fires frenzied our path. The ship's computer had long-since stopped blaring its doomsday warnings over the intercom, likely having lost all functionality by now.

Even though Jack was close to passing out—falling into the same comatose state that Shepard was in now—she pushed herself.

Pushing forward to this freedom.

Pushing onward, with her own hopes, her own renewed determination to _live._ Burning brighter than these flames that could have destroyed us, Jack gave her all for us. Keeping us safe as we finally reached the docking cradle leading to the ship, where Zaeed and the others waited for us. Looking relieved to see us—they hurried us through, and into the airlock. Onto the ship. In the nick of time, Joker took off, speeding us away from _Purgatory's_ total and complete destruction.


	34. Praxis

_"LIMB Clinic" from Deus Ex: Human Revolution_

**XXXIV.** Praxis

_(Miranda)_

Getting Shepard to the med bay after the suddenness of her injuries, everything began to sink in. More so once Jack also had to lie down, promptly falling unconscious. Even more as I stood somewhere in the center of the room, only able to do this much. Watching as Dr. Chakwas tended to Shepard and Jack both, barely masking the worry in her face. Dissociating in this way. Losing track of any sense of time or place. Only able to realize that I was here, standing as normal, awake and physically fine, while Shepard lay on this bed paces away from me, hidden limbs within the black of her stealth suit broken and bleeding. The same as my heart as I struggled not to do _more_ than simply stand here. The same as me.

No sound reached my ears—except for the barely-audible inhales and exhales from her bleeding nose.

This sterile smell of the med bay certainly reached me. Cleansing her, healing. Easing her comatose pain.

Yet no other light reached my eyes—except for this dimmed, dulled sun of hers, streaked and reddened, more, even after Dr. Chakwas had attempted to wipe Shepard's now-scarred face. Scarred worst over her left brow, I worried about a permanent scar forming there. Not enough to ruin her, no. Never that.

Only serving as a constant reminder of her decisions with me, with Jack.

Sacrificing herself like that…

I knew her. I knew her body. I knew her tolerances. I knew what was enough to absolutely _destroy_ her.

Once again, this look on Dr. Chakwas' face, concern past her trained calm, told me what we'd avoided.

Shepard could have…

 _She_ _should have…_

She knew it when she made that fucking choice, and she still did it anyway!

I realized the depths of what might have happened on that prison ship. As I did, such a cold sweat broke out over my forehead. Broken heart quickening, palpitating. Minor trembles of my body—I clutched my arms around myself, locking my posture this way. Slight ringing in my ears, drawn-out and deafening. Light head. Such light, light dizziness, lifting me out of this experience; dissociating me more and more and more and more. Forcing myself to breathe, _more_ —all I could think about was the Lazarus Project. Those two years. Possibly having to repeat that time, that trauma. Repeating those two damned years I'd spent bringing Shepard back. Spending those fortunes had meant nothing to me. Spending that time, those _emotions_ … I saw myself re-living it all over again if I had to. As may have been necessary. And I would have. I absolutely would have gone back to pushing myself to work those long-hour days, before retreating to my room and falling into a crying mess, alone. Then putting my mask back on the next day. My persona.

It all grew worse once I remembered that everyone else was behind me. Staring at Shepard, at Jack, at me. Garrus, Legion, Mordin, Zaeed, and Joker were all here in the med bay. Waiting the same as I was. Waiting for Dr. Chakwas' assessment. Waiting for me to say something: to assume my responsibilities.

 _"_ _If I'm incapacitated or otherwise unavailable, then you will act as the captain in my stead."_

But I couldn't do a thing. Not like this. Not until I knew that Shepard would be all right. And if she wouldn't, then I would move heaven and _all_ once again to bring her back. Time and time again, I would. Draining the galaxy dry of resources if I had to. Draining myself; breaking myself down to narrow those two years to a single year and three hundred and sixty-four days as a single accomplishment, as needed.

Joker and the others knew enough of what was on my mind right now.

So they said nothing. They simply waited for the verdict. Somehow transferring their empathy to me.

They didn't have to see my face to know my expression in this moment.

My expression radiated from my body anyway. Airwaves tightening, constricting in this cold sweat.

Freezing cold, hearing loss: by the time Dr. Chakwas ambled over to me, speaking that verdict, I could hear nothing. Nothing at all. Sweat scalping my head, just beneath view, I had to focus on her. Reading her lips until this ringing in my ears went away. As if submerged deep underwater, then coming back up for air, with the sounds of the winds returning. Dark depths replaced with the warm calm of her voice:

"Miranda, can you hear me? Shepard and Jack are going to be fine. In time. They will be out for a while."

Needing to make sure, I forced this reply, "For how long…?"

"A few days," counseled Dr. Chakwas. "Perhaps a week. No longer than that. I'll continue to do all I can for them. But these comas are unavoidable. We'll need to be patient while they take this time to heal."

A few days. Perhaps a week.

Not nearly as long as two whole years.

I made myself breathe. In and out. Feeling the very colors return to my surroundings, my perception.

These palpitations continued to puncture my heart every other beat. Yet this dizziness went away. This sweat over my head congealed to my preferred gleam of ice. These recent memories of Shepard naming me as her queen: I wore them proudly over my crown of now-chilled hair. I raised my head up higher.

"Of course," I said, putting my mask back on. Welding it back over my face. "Thank you, Dr. Chakwas."

Despite my best efforts, she conveyed her concern for me. That worry in her eyes, directed at me. All me.

And when I turned to the team, I found a similar story about them, through their eyes. Even Legion.

None of that mattered anymore. At least, not right now. Not as I led them just outside the med bay, to debrief with them. To give Dr. Chakwas a bit more space to work without all of us hovering over her.

Without me hovering over her. Hovering over Shepard…as I knew I would be as soon as I returned.

For now, I stood among the team here in the mess hall. They stood in something of a circle nearby.

Watching me.

Taking in every little thing about me.

Shepard should have been the one doing this…not me.

As I spoke to them, I projected only what I needed to—"Well, you heard her. It sounds like Shepard and Jack will be just fine. Eventually. We'll just have to give them this time to rest. There's nothing more we can do for them." I ignored my powerlessness. The others could not, showing that same sentiment in their faces. "At any rate, we've successfully brought Jack aboard. She's also agreed to join the team—amicably, this time. So the mission was a success. Relatively speaking. Shepard told me that she plans on picking up Tali'Zorah soon. That will be our next objective."

Meek, Joker spoke up, "Hey, actually, Tali emailed me during the last mission… Said she's still out on Haestrom with her team of quarian marines. She'll be ready the day after tomorrow."

"That's good," I noted. "Where would she like us to pick her up from?"

"Directly from the Flotilla. I already have the vectors she sent over, and the 'password'. We'll have permission to stay docked at the _Rayya_ until she leaves with us. Just pick the location on the galaxy map whenever. I marked it for you. Should only take us a few hours to get there from where we are now."

"Thank you, Joker. I'll do it soon. I imagine you'd all like to wind down after the mission. Feel free to do whatever you'd like. Nothing else is on the agenda until Shepard is back on her feet. You're dismissed."

One by one, Zaeed, Joker, Mordin, Legion, and Garrus took their leave. Each looking like they wanted to say something else to me. They were all wise enough to hold their tongues, retreating either to the elevator or the crew's quarters. Legion returned to its usual location in the AI Core, through the med bay. And it took everything for me to not follow behind. To return to Shepard's side while Dr. Chakwas tended to her. I knew that if I did, I would give too much of myself away. As if it should have mattered… Yet I held myself back regardless. Saving face.

Once everyone dispersed, I waited for a moment. Again, pushing back all of these temptations to simply go in the med bay and stay there. Decay there for as long as it took for Shepard to be all right again.

I forced myself to take the elevator up to the command deck instead.

As I went over to the galaxy map, straight ahead, I found the momentum of this moment, momentous.

When Shepard had first named me as her executive officer, I had imagined something like this happening. The worst-case scenario where Shepard was indeed incapacitated, and I would have to step up as the _Normandy's_ temporary captain. I had worried that it may have caused some… _friction,_ if a certain someone was still with us. I'd feared that it might have tipped the scales too much. Jealousy. Paranoia.

But now, as I leaned on this handrail, staring at the galaxy on this map, I realized how different this was.

How different it felt.

And as I set the course for the Migrant Fleet's current location, I couldn't help getting caught up in this.

I listened to the soft silence everywhere. The hum of the ship's equipment running. The vague sounds of the crew across the way working in diligence—in a worried diligence, anyway, with some of their minds clearly elsewhere, thinking about Shepard in the med bay. If at all possible, I even felt EDI's concern for us—for me—in her observations all around. Her presence seemed to filter through to me somehow.

Then I remembered: Shepard had passed full permissions to me as captain. If I decided, I could head up to her private quarters. EDI would have allowed me entry. And I _wanted_ to go up there. I certainly did.

But I couldn't bring myself to do it.

I left the opportunity in the air, indefinitely so. I returned to my room instead in this frazzled, forced calm.

* * *

Over the next two days, I thought that I would spend this time with pride. Waiting with dignity. Even finding my patience and applying it, thoroughly. I had planned on getting some work done. Eating once a day as needed. Visiting Shepard and Jack in the med bay for a reasonable amount of time as they continued to sleep on in their respective comas. Perhaps spending these extra days organizing my already-organized belongings, taking stock of anything I needed to replace or acquire anew. But, as I should have expected, that ended up not happening. None of it did. Because of Shepard. Her foresight.

Instead, I spent these days stuck in bed. Curled up under my comforter in my nightdress, a complete mess. The only company I had was this letter. This handwritten letter that Shepard had left on my desk. Written just before our last briefing, when we'd left for the comm room at staggered times. Regaling me with her strict, professional handwriting, her honesty wrenched me each time I read her words again:

_Miranda,_

_We don't have much time. I mean that in a couple of different ways._

_We only have until maybe the end of the year to be like this. To have this time. To just…be around each other, and talk, and take it easy. We still have the Collectors to deal with. But we'll get to them when we're ready. I know we will. It's not something that feels forced on us. No war, no invasions._

_Before the Reapers get here, I want to make the most of our time together. I want to take you out. I want to travel with you, with the team. Have that meaningful time for shore leave all across the galaxy; sharing in those memorable experiences with you and with the others. You make me happier than I ever thought was possible. So I want to show you off. I want to make sure that everyone knows you're mine, too. Yeah, we have our mission, and wherever we go should usually be relevant to whatever the team needs. I just need you to know my intentions. You can look forward to everything with me. Going anywhere with me. Being anything by my side. I want you to really live with me—in a true, full passion._

_For what it's worth, I know what you're used to. Someone liking you the way I do, I get that it's new for you. But Miranda, I want you to know: I like you more because you're "unlikable" on the outside. You're perfect, and perfectly flawed. You're genuinely sweet and caring. You have so much to give. Not everyone is wise enough to take the time to see you for who you are. You don't shrink yourself, or censor anything to please anyone. You're confident even with your insecurities. I respect you a lot._

_There aren't many people who are worthy of you. I'm glad that I'm on this VIP list of yours. It's a special feeling. I'll do everything I can to make sure I stay on this list in your heart—right at the top._

_See you soon,_

_Shepard_

.

I had written my response to her already.

Yet I couldn't help worrying, worrying, worrying—worrying that I would never get the chance to give this to her. Worrying that I would be able to give this to her, but only after an inordinate amount of time. And worrying more that I couldn't just give this to her now. Because I had to wait. Waiting for her to wake up. For her to get back on her feet. For her to disperse this cloud, this mist and this fog that had overtaken the _Normandy,_ and the crew ever since I'd brought her broken body back from that prison ship.

Needing to _wait_ to be with Shepard again had effectively locked me in a prison of my own making.

These walls closing in on me:

Constant reminders of those bygone years when I would do this before. Falling into my damned feelings. Crippling loneliness, gripping my skin with these ice cold claws of insecurities. These pervasive voices in my head haunting me, telling me that I would never be good enough for my own ambitions, let alone for her. Unattainable visions of some faraway perfection, glimmering in the distance out of my reach: all as some collection of traits that I would supposedly never have, supposedly never find, supposedly never, ever live up to. I wanted to stop caring; I wanted to give up and not bother chasing after this idea…

But I couldn't. I saw that idea wrapped up nicely within Shepard's perception of me. No fighting, no drama. She gave me the gaze I wanted simply by looking at me. By being around me. By trusting me the way she had during the last mission—to that extent—even if this was the end result. And hopefully, one day, she would give me more of this feeling…physically. Lighting me up with her touch; burning me alive in only the best of ways. Having her hands on my body, having her inside of me—I needed her right now.

Still, I hated that my own self-worth was compromised like this.

I hated that I was essentially out of commission until my mirror was fixed again.

I hated that I needed Shepard to mirror all of this to me, making up for what I never had before.

Yet I knew, at some point, I had to stop moping around like this. I had to get up and brush myself off. As weak and inadequate as I felt now, Shepard's persistent presence in my heart continued to warm me. I couldn't completely find that heat, that fire of determination on my own, within myself.

These special genes of mine couldn't make up for any of this.

That didn't have to stop me from living. Even if I was too pathetic to go back to walking on my own.

By the time I forced myself out of bed, into the shower, and back out again, getting dressed in my uniform, the passage of time at last registered to me.

We were still docked at the Migrant Fleet, at the _Rayya._ For one specific reason.

EDI let me know, "Miranda, Tali'Zorah is nearly ready. She is requesting permission to come aboard. However, per protocol with the Migrant Fleet, the _Rayya's_ ship captain must first send an armed security and quarantine team to ensure that the _Normandy_ is clean. Due to the celebrity status of Shepard's vessel, the captain will merely send this team to interview Mr. Moreau on the bridge. An actual inspection will very likely not be necessary."

Again, something else that Shepard should have handled. Not me.

"Permission granted," I accepted anyway. "Thank you, EDI."

Arming myself with my persona once more, I left my room and headed over to the med bay. I wanted to see Shepard again. I couldn't know if Tali'Zorah knew of what had happened—if Garrus or Joker had told her ahead of time. Then again, I supposed I could assume the answer on my own. She didn't appear to be in a grand rush to get over her. So perhaps she wasn't aware yet.

I could only imagine her reaction once she did find out.

As I reached the door to the med bay, I was surprised to find Zaeed exiting the area. He didn't notice me right away. Too busy in his head, stuck in his thoughts. Worrying about Shepard; maybe worrying about Jack as well. Remarkably pensive for them. He spotted me as we passed by one another.

Zaeed grunted out his politeness, "All right, Lawson?"

"Good evening, Zaeed," I replied, civil enough.

He continued on to the crew's quarters, letting out a low chuckle. Amused by what, I could never know.

So long as he didn't go back to needling me about every little thing, I couldn't mind his current mood.

Within the brightness of the med bay, I found Dr. Chakwas tending to Jack on the other side of the room. Shepard continued to lay over the same bed, with her hair down, spilling out beneath her. Still in her stealth suit, she had at least stopped bleeding. Joker and Garrus stood near her bed, at first oblivious to my approach. From the reports Dr. Chakwas had periodically sent over to me—over these whirlwind days—I knew that Shepard's condition was stable. As was Jack's. It was just a matter of time now.

Hopefully not too much longer.

Because if I allowed myself to keep festering in my emotions, I worried that my anger would take over, as a shield. Shielding me from the rest. Shielding me from this pain I felt, only able to watch as Shepard lay there, completely oblivious to me, and to her other visitors.

From the way I idealized her at times, she really should have been immortal.

Sadly, this near-death experience for her had opened my eyes to reality.

Joker noticed me first. "Hey, Miranda," he muttered. "Haven't seen you in a while. You doing okay?"

"I suppose so," I lied. "Thank you for asking."

Garrus didn't seem to believe me. He shifted the subject regardless—"Tali just emailed us. She asked if Joker and I could go pick her up. She wants to show the two of us around the _Rayya._ Introduce us to the admirals, her other friends, and her father at home. Figured it'd be nice to do that first… _You know."_

So she definitely wasn't aware. "You should. I would encourage the three of you to spend that time together as old friends. Go do that with her, and then come back. We aren't going anywhere."

"We'll do it, then," said Joker, while Garrus used his omni-tool to reply to Tali's email. "I'm just worried about breaking the news to her. You already know she's gonna freak. Since Shepard's out of commission, we figured we should tell Tali about the whole drama, too. About Ash and Liara, and you—what you pulled off. _Everything._ Might be better than making her wait until the commander's back at it again."

"There really isn't any way to avoid it. I trust you'll handle this with her as you see fit. I would only advise you to also tell her about Legion beforehand. To prevent any unnecessary surprises or confrontations."

"Will do, Miranda," promised Garrus. "Joker and I should get going, then. I'm guessing we'll be gone for a while. Pretty sure you'll hear Tali barging through the door once she's back with us."

Joker managed to grin. "Yeah, definitely. Better get ready for a storm!"

"Of course," I humored. "Have a good time."

Once the pair of them went on their way, Dr. Chakwas came over to me.

"Miranda, there you are," she said, looking glad to see me. "How are you doing?"

"I'm all right," I lied once again. "Thank you."

Dr. Chakwas hummed, also appearing not to believe me. Yet she set that aside, continuing on, "Well, you should know that everything will be just fine. I worried for a while that we might have needed to get Jack and the commander to a hospital instead. They're both quite stubborn, powering through this as best as they can. I imagine they'll wake up by tomorrow at least, if not sooner."

Feeling so hollow, I could barely believe her _._

"That's good news. I'm relieved."

Not wanting us to carry on like this, she ordered me, "Come, let's have a seat. We really should speak."

Dr. Chakwas sat down at her desk. Turning around to face the other chair near her.

I sat down there. Facing this way, facing her, I could still keep Shepard in my sights like this. Unending.

Non-accusing, Dr. Chakwas began her speech, "You know, Miranda, I've been concerned about you. I've not banned you from the med bay, and yet your visits have been surprisingly sparse. I assumed you would have wished to spend more time here, checking in with the commander. Watching over her in-person instead of relying on my reports. Would you like to share why you've been stuck in your room?"

I could say nothing to that.

Dr. Chakwas and I surely had a positive working relationship from the Lazarus Project. We got along fine.

But this exceeded the scope of our harmony together. Eclipsing, shadowing.

She knew this, yet she smiled at me anyway.

"I must say," she went on. "I don't have a traditional family myself. Not anymore. The _Normandy_ is my home, and you are all my children. That includes you, Miss Perfection." I lightened somewhat with her levity. "It's why I've decided to break the ice this way, so to speak. And because of my…regrets. With the past. With the ones we've already lost."

Dr. Chakwas saw the comprehension in my eyes. She knew I understood her attempts; her regrets.

Yet I continued to say nothing. Giving nothing away. Emoting nothing whatsoever.

I had no idea how long Dr. Chakwas and I sat here. Staring at one another without speaking.

Several minutes must have passed with us having this non-verbal understanding—that I was far too closed-off to be honest with her; that she may have been overcorrecting for her past regrets in doing this with me. I couldn't tell her that I was perfectly fine. Or that I would be, soon enough. As soon as Shepard was all right again, I would be, too. Even though I knew my anger would take over instead, as that shield. Preventing me from getting too emotional. Because no one, not even Shepard, could know the sickening extent to which I needed her in my life. I needed her to be okay again. _I needed her._

In her wisdom, Dr. Chakwas eventually told me, "If nothing else, Miranda, I appreciate your dedication. Whether it's your steadfast resolve to remain poised and in control, or how reliable you are, it is all very admirable. The praxis of your dedication to Shepard is unmatched: how you put your feelings for her into practice. Acting on them in practicality and care. It's quite contradictory to your unique exterior."

"My cold exterior, you mean."

She gave me another warm smile. "You _can_ be a rather cold woman, yes. But I don't fault you for it."

"Well, this is simply how I am. I'm not trying to offend you with my aversion to all of this."

"I know you aren't," she forgave. "Yet I'm not the only one who feels this way. The others have noticed as well. Why, not that long ago, Joker, Zaeed, Mordin, Legion, and Garrus were all speculating as to your well-being. Wondering if they should attempt to contact you somehow, to ask if you were all right. They shirked away from the possibility. Fearing your coldness, or reprisal. They care for you all the same."

Not used to any of this, I looked away from her.

Once again, we spent more time in this odd silence. Dr. Chakwas continued to observe me. I continued to stare off at Shepard's unconscious form atop that bed, wishing she would wake up already.

I really wanted to get up and leave. But I didn't want to be rude.

Yet this inordinate amount of time passed on anyway.

After this ridiculous time passed, Dr. Chakwas decided that enough was enough. I wasn't going to budge.

As a consolation prize for my rigid patience, she forwarded a few permissions to my omni-tool.

"Here," she said. "You're now able to enter the med bay when the room is locked. When I'm not available during after hours. In case you'd like to sneak in later, uninterrupted. Without the others around. Should you need anything, you can simply send me an email. I hope that will suffice."

"That's quite generous of you, Dr. Chakwas," I accepted. "I appreciate it."

"Of course, dear. It's the least I can do—"

Panicked and heaving for breath, Tali'Zorah burst through the door in a rush of yellow and violets.

Garrus wandered in after her, with Joker barely able to keep up, trailing in behind them.

Spotting Shepard on the bed, Tali panicked more, on the verge of tears now—"Oh, _Keelah,_ I can't believe this! Why hasn't she woken up yet? Will she be all right? Why has she been out for this long?!"

Dr. Chakwas stood up, reassuring her, "Shepard will be just fine. There's no need to panic."

Taking in those words, Tali tried to breathe. No doubt reliving her own traumas after Shepard's death.

"Sorry," she exhaled. "As soon as Garrus and Joker told me what happened, I rushed over here. I wish they would have mentioned it sooner. I felt awful for…not knowing. Wasting time at home when I could have been here instead." Tali sighed one last time, shaking off enough of her worries. "Err, right. It seems I forgot myself… Thank you for taking care of Shepard. It's good to see you again, Dr. Chakwas."

"You as well, Tali," replied Dr. Chakwas, smiling. "I take it you're caught up with everything else as well?"

Defiant, Tali responded, "Yes, I am. Finally knowing the truth that I'd suspected all along…it's honestly burning me up. But I'm glad to have answers at long last." Nearly boiling over, her emotions slow-burned to a hotter pitch, moment-by-moment, word-by-word: "Ashley did all of this… Exactly like I knew she would. I never did trust her all the way. And I'm glad I didn't! That selfish, lying _bosh'tet_ killed my best friend! I won't forgive her for this, or for breaking Shepard's heart the way she did. _Good riddance!"_

Dr. Chakwas clutched her figurative pearls, rather thrown by the outburst.

Garrus looked stunned and shaken, nearly staggering back in his own surprise.

Joker coughed, awkward. "Well, don't hold back, Tali. Tell us how you really feel!"

"I thought I just did?" puzzled Tali, oblivious to the saying. She then found me standing near her, and looked up at me properly. I found the brights of Tali's eyes slanted downward behind the opacity of her mask. Despite her many curiosities about me brimming, she was chilly in saying, "Hello again, Miranda."

Nodding in curtness, I remembered my responsibilities:

"Welcome aboard the new _Normandy,_ Tali'Zorah," I spoke to her. Then I looked to Shepard still unconscious on the bed. Mindful, I offered my left hand. "And welcome back to the team."

Tali warmed somewhat as she shook my hand. At least appreciating my respect for quarian customs.

"Thank you, Miranda," she said. "But you don't have to call me that anymore. Tali is fine from now on."

"Understood, Tali."

For some reason, Tali giggled in a dark sort of impishness. Cryptic and unknowable, she had her own thoughts and opinions of me that I couldn't quite fathom. Not in this moment. At the very least, I could tell by her stare that she had _something_ in mind. Observing me, scrutinizing me—clearly vetting me in her own ways, as that potential partner for her beloved captain. I didn't get the sense at all that she viewed me as some sort of competition. Not in the slightest. I instead felt her making up her mind about me.

I acknowledged that Tali was intelligent enough to see this for what it was.

As far as Shepard's affections were concerned, the two of us weren't on the same plane.

If I was to be Shepard's queen, with Tali as her princess, then this already spelled out our roles here.

Yet I still saw the possible source of strife between us:

Tali had seemed entertained by me during Freedom's Progress, given all the time I'd spent _staring._ Unable to help it. But she had obviously changed her mind on that, given my Cerberus affiliations—not fully trusting me with Shepard's heart, because of my professional loyalties. She could have influenced Shepard away from me. All out of genuine care and concern. Not for any dangerous, malicious reasons.

Retaliating against her would only get me in trouble. Far too much trouble. Possibly life-ending trouble.

Tali was untouchable. Full-stop. Red light. Hard limit.

Nevertheless, I respected how much power she had in this situation. Whether she was aware of her authority or not, I saw that I had to tread carefully here. I could not, would not make Tali my enemy. Not like Liara and Ashley—that whole saga. I truly wished to get along with her. Besides, I had already made the mistake of underestimating Tali before. I knew that it would have been foolish of me to do so again.

Tali let out another laugh, smoother this time. Finding her new entertainment with me today. Somehow.

"Well, anyway," she went on. "It's good to be back on the team. Seeing these new faces, too. I'm looking forward to where we go next. I can't believe how nostalgic this feels, being back on the _Normandy_ —"

Noticing something else in the room, Tali stopped mid-sentence.

She gasped in a sudden shock.

Legion had entered the med bay from the AI Core.

We all looked over at it.

Upon Tali's staring, Legion looked around at us. Unclear of how to proceed—if it should say anything or not.

Panicked once more, Tali drew her sidearm—"Geth! Get down!"

Tali shot at Legion right in the middle of the med bay!

As alarmed as I was—as we all were—we couldn't think to stop her.

Somehow, Shepard and Jack continued to sleep on in the middle of all the noise.

Legion took cover behind one of the beds; Tali continued shooting at it. "Allied fire. Taking cover. Requesting assistance, Operator Lawson!"

Still incensed, Tali lowered her gun. "Miranda, how does that geth know your name? And what is it doing here on the ship!?"

"Garrus. Joker," I said, scowling. "Did you fail to _warn her?_ Despite what I told you before you left?"

The two of them just gave me a sheepish look. Unable to say anything. They knew I didn't want excuses.

I gestured for Legion to emerge from its makeshift cover. It did so, remaining calm enough.

I explained, "Legion isn't like the other geth you faced before. It doesn't worship the Reapers. It wants to stop the geth who do."

Tali scorned, "So, it's just one of the _friendly geth_ who drove my people from their homeworld!"

Legion defended itself, "We do not intend physical harm to the creators at this time."

"That's not all," I added. "It also helped me bring Shepard back. She wouldn't be here otherwise."

Not liking this at all, Tali relented, "Fine. I don't want to get into this now."

All of a sudden, Tali, Garrus, and Joker realized: they'd interrupted my so-called conversation with Dr. Chakwas from before their arrival.

Their antics had also disturbed the peace here in the med bay.

Garrus cleared his throat. "Right. Looks like you two were in the middle of something. Sorry about that."

"Yeah," agreed Joker. "We'll leave you to it. Tali, wanna head out now? We can go back to your place. Finish up that tour you promised us. Your Dad looked kinda confused when we took off like that."

"Sure," said Tali, guilty and downcast. "Sorry as well for all the noise. And panicking. And shooting… We'll come visit again another time, if that's all right."

Thin-lipped, Dr. Chakwas otherwise gave nothing away. "That's fine, Tali. My patients should still be here when you return. You all take care."

Taking that forced-politeness as an order to get the hell out, Tali left with Joker and Garrus.

Legion also retreated back to the AI Core.

Once they were gone, Dr. Chakwas let out a sigh. Privately souring over the youth among us, no doubt.

For all of Tali's accomplishments and capabilities, I often forgot that I was twelve years older than her.

"Tali certainly is a firecracker," chatted Dr. Chakwas. "I can't blame her for her reactions. Garrus and Joker really should have warned her about Legion beforehand… They must not have had the chance to, what with Tali's concern over Shepard's state. I'm willing to give them the benefit of the doubt." She then noticed the time. "Hmm, it's getting rather late. If you'd like, Miranda, you can stay here while I head off. I can't imagine you'd want to spend another night by your lonesome. Perhaps Shepard would appreciate you remaining by her side tonight. I do believe she's finding some of her awareness by now."

"Of course," I accepted, hiding my anticipation. "I wouldn't mind staying with her this time. Thank you."

Dr. Chakwas dimmed the lights down to near-darkness. "Wonderful!" she replied. "A bit of love and attention should do the trick." She didn't notice how my face had reddened as she lowered the blinds over the windows. "Well, you of course have permission to come and go freely as you see fit. Remember to send me an email, should anything arise. Have a good night, then."

"Good night, Dr. Chakwas."

As she left the med bay, she locked the door behind her. Leaving me to this absolute silence and privacy.

Out of curiosity, I wandered over to Jack's side first. Listening to the faint hum of the medical equipment all around, I couldn't quite hear Jack as she breathed on. No concerns showed in her face whatsoever. Still dressed in that all-black, boyish getup of hers, she did look just fine. Sleeping soundly. Unbothered.

I almost wanted to be angry with her. Hating Jack for what she had done to Shepard—by accident.

None of this was her fault.

That was the only truth that kept my harsher emotions away.

Besides, I had already made my own promises. Once Jack woke up, I would have to send her those files on her family. About her mother, who was still alive and searching for her. I owed that much to her for cooperating with me—for not dooming us to a fiery death on that ship during our confrontation.

Shepard had found her sympathies for this new member of our team. Somehow.

I had to do the same in my own way. Eventually.

Far more subdued now, I went over to Shepard's side. Gazing down at her as she slept on. Admiring the way she scowled in her sleep like this. Up close, I could see the way her skin absorbed every bit of light still in the dimmed room. Only the slight paleness about her complexion gave away her state.

Needing to feel her again, I lay down with Shepard over her bed. Without a lot of room to work with, I practically had to rest on top of her. I leaned my front against her side like this. And I sighed over this closeness, warmed and contented, despite my moods attempting to creep back and haunt me. This comforting, weighted material of Shepard's stealth suit blanketed me, pillowing. I found more soothing softness in this sheen of her long, long hair flowing down next to me. Even more: I could listen to her heart like this. Her breathing. Hearing for myself that she was still alive. Thriving no matter what.

Just as I was about to silence my omni-tool alerts for the night, I received an unexpected alert:

Garrus had created a new chat room for the team: _Team Renegade Shepard Redux._ He'd sent me an invite to join. As part of the invitation, there was a message from him—stipulations about the rules. I wasn't allowed to tell Shepard about this, and no one was allowed to gossip about her in the chat. Same as before. Though I did find this rather cute. The rest of the team actually believed that Shepard had no idea about the first chat room. And I'd of course spied on their communications there two years ago.

Then again, I shouldn't have been surprised about this. Now that Tali was with us, she'd brought along with her a certain spirit and liveliness, brightening the whole team already. She seemed to be the heart of the original team—what was left of it. I expected that quality about her to extend to this new group.

I accepted the invite. Figuring it was only a matter of time until Shepard found out about this chat, too.

Already, the main room was alight in jovial conversation. I checked the members list, this time surprised to see everyone here. _Everyone_ —Tali, Garrus, Joker, Mordin, and Zaeed. Even EDI and Legion had joined. They'd also invited along Urdnot Wrex, even though he was still on Tuchanka, serving as clan chief for his people.

Then I noticed the biggest shock: Garrus had extended moderator privileges to me. I could only wonder why. I figured it was due to my place in the team's chain of command. He trusted me like this already.

Making myself more comfortable over Shepard like this, I decided to read their messages for a while:

_[22:10:32] Joker: And what did I tell you? Miranda just joined! You owe me now, Zaeed!_

_[22:11:01] Zaeed: Yeah, yeah. Fine. You win. Can't believe I even joined this thing myself. You goddamn kids are gonna drive me up a wall._

_[22:11:20] Wrex: Look who's talking. Human thinks he's old. They ever tell you how old I am, Zaeed_

_[22:11:42] Zaeed: Sure they did. I get it, you're a fucking dinosaur. T-Rex. Real clever._

_[22:11:59] Tali: A very lovable, huggable dinosaur. Wrex gives the best hugs._

_[22:12:12] Zaeed: Christ, girl. Keep this up and you'll give me a bloody toothache._

_[22:12:31] Wrex: Hey that's my favorite quarian you're talking about. I owe Tali a few hugs these days_

_[22:12:50] EDI: Dinosaurs on Earth were known predators. Mainly the carnivores such as the Tyrannosaurus Rex. It is not logical to assume that such predators were capable of amiable care._

_[22:13:09] Joker: It was a joke, EDI! God, you can't keep doing this whole Captain Obvious thing. It's seriously pissing me off. You pull this crap all the freaking time. Stop being so literal about everything!_

_[22:13:20] Legion: Is EDI your god as the Normandy's AI?_

_[22:13:32] Joker: You, too, Legion! Cut it out already!_

_[22:13:52] Garrus: You know, Joker, it was your idea to include everyone. I'm still glad you brought it up. It'll be a good learning experience for us to get along like this. Synthetics and organics working together._

_[22:14:01] Tali: A learning experience? Is that what you're calling it?_

_[22:14:13] Garrus: Sure. I don't see why not. If you can get along with a geth, then anything's possible._

_[22:14:20] Tali: That remains to be seen._

_[22:14:34] Wrex: If Tali can handle a geth, I can deal with Dr. **Mordin**_

_[22:14:50] Mordin: Yes… Hopefully so. Wouldn't mind getting to know krogan as friend. New concept._

_[22:15:02] Zaeed: What about Jack? You plan on inviting her once she wakes up? Or are you too scared?_

_[22:15:22] Garrus: That depends on her… I want to bring Jack along. But if she's not open to it, there's nothing we can do. As of right now, I can't see her joining us._

_[22:15:38] Wrex: The alpha female is here. Like you said, anything is possible_

_[22:15:44] Garrus: Huh?_

_[22:15:47] Tali: Wrex, what are you talking about?_

_[22:15:47] Zaeed: Who the fuck's the alpha female?_

_[22:15:53] Joker: OH, I get it. Dude, that's hilarious!_

_[22:16:00] Tali: Then please explain for the rest of us._

_[22:16:10] EDI: I believe he means Miranda is the alpha female._

_[22:16:19] Garrus: That's true. No wonder._

_[22:16:21] Zaeed: Yeah, I see it now. Gotta agree. Brilliant stuff._

_[22:16:30] Wrex: Hello **Miranda** it's nice to meet you finally, how are you_

_[22:16:52] Me: Hello, Wrex. The feeling is mutual. I'm doing well enough, thank you._

_[22:17:00] Wrex: You saved our team. I'm happy for that_

_[22:17:10] Joker: Man, Wrex. You're a miracle worker. Thanks for breaking the ice._

_[22:17:21] Garrus: You're the one who made things awkward by making that bet with Zaeed._

_[22:17:40] Zaeed: And you're cracking me the hell up. Aren't you two in the same place with Tali on her quarian ship? Why are you in here typing to each other?_

_[22:17:57] Joker: Come on, Zaeed. We're just chilling in Tali's room right now. Kind of having another conversation. Doesn't mean we can't multitask and talk to you guys at the same time._

_[22:18:12] Zaeed: Well ain't that sweet. You having a sleepover, too?_

_[22:18:30] Garrus: We are, actually. At this rate, we'll be up all night talking instead of sleeping._

_[22:18:40] Wrex: I'm sad I wasn't invited_

_[22:18:49] Joker: Sorry, bud. We'll tell the Migrant Fleet to stop by Tuchanka next time._

_[22:19:03] Zaeed: So what're you three talking about? Might as well share with the group while you're at it. Get Wrex in on the conversation._

_[22:19:20] Joker: Uhh… Stuff?_

_[22:19:27] Garrus: Yeah. Stuff._

_[22:19:54] Zaeed: She live there with her Dad? What's he think of Tali having two men in her room for a sleepover? If I was him, I'd be losing my mind right about now. Wouldn't have allowed it in the first place._

_[22:20:11] Joker: Uh, yeah, about that…_

_[22:20:15] Garrus: Well, Zaeed…_

_[22:20:16] Tali: I'm gay._

_[22:20:30] Zaeed: Oh, shit. My bad._

_[22:20:35] Wrex: AHAHAHA I love you Tali_

_[22:20:40] EDI: Regardless of Tali's sexual orientation, Zaeed appears to be infantilizing her._

_[22:20:58] Zaeed: Huh? Is that what I'm doing?_

_[22:21:18] Tali: You are. I don't appreciate it. It shouldn't matter how young I am compared to you. We're all on this team for a reason._

_[22:21:30] Zaeed: Yeah, sure. But how the fuck am I infantilizing you? I don't get it._

_[22:21:56] Tali: You keep dismissing me and calling me 'girl'. Then again, it's bad enough that I have to explain this myself. If you can't see the problem on your own, that says a lot about you. I have to wonder who the real child is among us._

_[22:22:05] Joker: Ouch!_

_[22:22:07] Garrus: "Tell us how you really feel."_

_[22:22:15] Zaeed: Jesus Christ, girl. No one's fucking infantilizing you. If you're gonna talk shit like this, then I'll keep my goddamn distance. I don't need another repeat of Lawson up my ass again._

_[22:22:23] Joker: What the hell, Zaeed? You did it again!_

_[22:22:28] Wrex: You're making a big mistake_

_[22:22:34] Garrus: Should we tell him?_

_[22:22:59] Zaeed: No, don't tell me a damn thing. You cliquey motherfuckers get on my last nerve. I can't call the girl 'girl', but you're obviously treating her like some golden child. You ever think that's why I'm dismissing her or whatever the fuck you accused me of? I hate special treatment. It ain't personal._

_[22:23:15] Joker: Dude, look, now's not a good time for this. Tali's going through it right now._

_[22:23:30] Zaeed: The hell do I care about that? You're doing the same shit again, too. Stop protecting her for fuck's sake. Let the princess speak for herself if she's so fucking grown!_

_[22:23:43] Wrex: Keep it up and this old dinosaur will find you and destroy you_

_[22:23:59] Zaeed: Do I look like I'm scared of a damn krogan? I started the Blue Suns back in the day! We took out you giant fucks in the Blood Pack left and right like it was child's play! See what I did there?_

_[22:24:02] Tali: Wrex, leave it alone. Let the drama queen keep going with his temper tantrum. I'm more entertained than anything. It's fine._

_[22:24:18] Mordin: Perhaps not wise to continue escalating. Word could get out to Shepard somehow. Possible that Zaeed may end up thrown from airlock as result. Same as previous members of crew._

_[22:24:30] Zaeed: Is that how it is? Someone's gonna break the rules and tell on me to Shepard? We really playing that schoolyard shit, running to the teacher in the middle of a fight?_

_[22:25:11] Garrus: This isn't some school thing. Shepard cares about Tali a lot. We were all on the same team. We've gone through so much together. You need to understand that. Otherwise, this could end badly. I'm not saying that as a threat. You've seen what Shepard's capable of. It's just how it is. Now why don't we wrap this up before things get out of hand?_

_[22:25:33] Zaeed: No way. This is some underhanded shit. Tali takes a couple of potshots at me, I get pissed, then you all pile up on me for standing my ground. But you know what? I'm gonna let it go. I see what's going on here. This ain't about me. She's definitely going through it, all right._

_[22:25:41] Joker: Thanks for listening?_

_[22:25:45] EDI: I don't believe you're being honest, Zaeed. You are holding something back. The first half of your message contradicts the second half._

_[22:25:54] Wrex: Look at EDI stirring the pot_

_[22:26:01] Joker: Oh, jeez… You just couldn't leave it alone, could you?_

_[22:26:11] Zaeed: I know when to shoot my shot and when to hold it. I'm choosing to hold it._

_[22:26:34] Tali: You really think you're holding some type of leverage over me?_

_[22:26:55] Zaeed: It's not leverage. It's the cold, hard truth. Plain as day now that I'm looking closer._

_[22:27:10] Tali: Go on, then. Say whatever it is you feel you've discovered about me. I want to know._

_[22:27:24] Zaeed: I'll pass. I already told you I ain't saying shit else about this. Let bygones be bygones._

_[22:27:38] Legion: Your insincerity is perceptible._

_[22:27:50] Wrex: The synthetics keep on going, huh_

_[22:28:03] Joker: And that's our cue to leave. We're gonna bow out for now, guys._

_[22:28:15] Garrus: Right. I think we've got a long night ahead of us. Better to have it out offline._

Everyone more or less allowed the conversation to end on that note. Only a few other responses followed afterward: polite messages wishing the group a good night, from all but Tali and Zaeed. And then silence.

I had the worst feeling about Zaeed's clairvoyance: the cold, hard truth he'd discovered about Tali.

He could have made things worse throughout that discussion. A lot worse. And yet he'd chosen not to.

Had he continued, I would've had no choice but to ban him from the chat. Standing up for Tali that way.

I felt an odd swell of respect for Zaeed now, for his restraint. Even though he was the aggressive wrench in the group's otherwise innocent vibe. I did see which path he had been on, in how close he had been to reading Tali's obvious giveaways. How that infantilizing—on purpose or otherwise—had clearly hit a nerve with her. Her telling silence after Wrex had called me the alpha female. And how Tali apparently wasn't in the best place tonight. Had Zaeed been honest and upfront, scathing, he could have possibly destroyed her spirit as a result.

Hopefully, this situation would resolve itself somehow. Over time, or more directly. Whichever.

If I stayed awake, I already knew I would end up fretting all night. Fretting over Shepard. Fretting over my growing impatience for her to wake up already. Fretting more over the unavoidable—that I wouldn't have the best reaction once she did finally come to. I knew I would be angry at her. I knew I wouldn't be able to hold that back.

It would've been so much simpler to just… _show her_ this vulnerability of mine.

Covering it up with my temper wouldn't do either of us any favors.

But I needed Shepard to know that I was serious about this.

Even so, I couldn't resist this temptation now—touching her face, I studied her anew. That scar had settled over her left brow, as a thin gap of hair running diagonally through her skin. Nothing monstrous at all, or disfiguring. I found it attractive, really. And I felt a stronger temptation to whisper something to her. Something specific. Those three words…even though she couldn't hear me. Specifically _because_ she couldn't hear me. The sentiment remained stuck in my throat. Unable to leave.

I kissed her anyway. Tasting this sterile cleanliness that had overtaken her skin, from Dr. Chakwas having sanitized away the remnants of that blood over her face. Shepard gave me this same fluttering feeling all the same. Sleep or no sleep, coma or not, I still felt this heated expanse deep inside of me. All from the way her lips felt: this perfect suppleness of her shape, full and inviting. All for me.

I fell asleep with this feeling, holding me tight.

Holding me as I wished she could have. As she should have—my demands and expectations soaring.

I couldn't go another night without her hands on me.

* * *

Vague dreams followed me in my sleep through the night.

In the one I remembered most clearly, I was at Shepard's apartment. Feeling like it really was my home with her. At the same time, I also felt like I wasn't supposed to be there. At least, not in this context.

Not in the way I approached Shepard's room—intending to find her within. Not in the way I felt, in this shape of my anticipation, anticipating her shaped in me. Certainly not with this subtext of pacing around our unspoken wants. Patience and impatience tying around us, taut and tauter as I'd found her in her room. Standing tall somewhere, facing away from me, wearing only a pair of sweatpants. The shine of her skin found me in this lighting, her back to me; her hair falling down that length in such a brooding excellence, even as Shepard had her head canted downward, and her hand upon the wall. Thinking in that pensive state, that thoughtful mode. Listening to my own approach—as I wasn't supposed to do, wasn't supposed to be here, doing this to her. Lusting after her like this. Running my hand across her shoulders, admiring the pure moisture of her skin, perfectly sunned and bronzed as the sun of my life.

That _finally_ feeling, I remembered full form. Finally glossing my hands down her lean back, muscled just so. And those shoulder blades, defining her sharp form in elegance. Finally making myself clear, whether we were supposed to be doing this or not—I could feel the promise of her release, all natural for me. Reaching around to her front, I absolutely felt it. How she wanted me. How she craved me. How she couldn't keep denying it, now that I was here. And so she took my touches as permission, for us to give in to this moment, and to keep it quiet with everyone else afterward. This was only about us, after all.

When I awoke sometime in the morning, still lying with my head over Shepard's chest, I found my frustration with that vagueness. The actual visuals from the rest of my dream had escaped from my memory, like water slipping from my fingers. The more I tried to remember, the more it all fell away from me. But I could never forget how that dream had made me feel. Even now, I felt those remnants of Shepard's touch, of the way she'd held my body as she stayed on top of me. That divine quality to her hold, to her regard of me—and what she'd given me over and over, right in that bed. Right in the middle of that subtext. That private, subtle meaning behind what we should or should not have done with one another, and doing it anyway. Rushing or not, it couldn't matter. I was perfectly ready for her—today.

But I wasn't ready at all for the reality of this morning.

This feeling of Shepard's arms around me. As if she had somehow moved herself that way as I'd slept.

And when I looked up at her, I found her looking back down at me in such a wide-eyed softness.

"Shepard!"

Without thinking, I threw my arms around her neck, holding her tighter. Caught up in my emotions like this, holding my sudden tears back like this. Eternally happy to _see her_ again. Glad that she was awake—that she was all right. As Shepard tightened her own hold around me, I felt my vulnerabilities slipping. This warmth from my eyes fell right down, spreading over the fabric of her stealth suit. Water over black, indiscernible to my eyes, but still wet all the same. Enough for her to use the pads of her fingers to stroke this shine away from the corner of my eye, from the side of my face nearest to her. Gently so.

But just as I was about to calm myself, I felt Shepard's lips over my head. This heated warmth of her breaths as she exhaled me, kissing me there in such an impassioned tenderness, all at once…she threw me right back into this wave. This wave of needing her like this, and letting her absorb me in her arms like this, as if she never wanted to let go. Shepard had found the full strength of her body again, holding me with this awareness of her limbs. Feeling this for myself, her protectiveness shined all too clearly in her hold. Steadfast for however long she kept me here like this. Dependable as I had missed from her.

Here was the reliability she _should have_ given me during the last mission.

"Damnit, Shepard!" I scorned, pushing myself off from her. Noticing that Jack was still asleep, I struggled to keep my voice down—"Do you have _any_ idea how worried I've been!? What I've had to deal with while you were out like that? You could have died, for God's sake!"

Far too docile and child-like, Shepard gave me an apologetic look, deep in her sentimentality for me.

I removed myself from the bed, standing anew. Standing to pace around. Standing to get away from her and stay close to her, all at the same time. Not once did Shepard shirk her gaze away from me, even with that same, frustratingly adorable look on her face. My own frustrations were about to boil over—until I remembered that this wasn't supposed to be about me. Not like that. Even as much as Shepard fueled my ego in her complete reverence for me, at all times, no matter what…I had to set that aside.

Checking the time, I saw that it was nearly 8:00am. I sent Dr. Chakwas an email, letting her know that Shepard was awake—and that Jack had shifted to her side, so she was likely just asleep by now.

Returning my attention to Shepard, I changed my own regard of her. Not my expression. Not my anger. Yet in this dimmed lighting of the room, I could at least spot this sheen of sweat that had perspired over her face. That moisture glimmered brightest right along her new scar over her brow, reminding me again of what had happened. What she had done. What she had chosen to do for me, pointlessly so.

Even with my glove in the way, I was still able to feel with my hand—"You're burning up." Using my omni-tool, I scanned her diagnostics. My concern brimmed more, turning into sharpness: "And it looks like you're dehydrated. Not just from the past few days." I went to retrieve a chilled cup of water, knowing I was nagging at her, but still doing it anyway—"Shepard, just because you only need to eat once a day from now on, you still need to drink enough water. I know you have plenty in your refrigerator in your room. That's why I put those bottles of water in there for you. Please drink them."

"Okay," she said, sitting up on her own. Facing me, her long legs nearly reached the floor. "I will… Sorry."

I was about to scold her more for moving without permission. Acting like she was perfectly fine already.

I caught myself, handing her this water instead.

Shepard drank from the cup. Still looking at me. Still apologizing more with her eyes.

For the sake of doing something, I activated my omni-tool again, changing the settings. Plenty of people had various attachments programmed to their omni-tools, to change this orange into a usable item or tool. Usually weapons for combat, such as a short blade. But throughout the Lazarus Project, I'd found that I needed this particular attachment programmed to my omni-tool instead. I brought it out now:

A brush, with the bristles perfectly tailored to Shepard's hair type. Not too thick, not too harsh. Just smooth enough to gently untangle any hidden knots in her hair, while maintaining that beautiful shimmer and shine, warmer than the sun.

Holding the back of the brush head right in the palm of my hand, I reached around her shoulders to do this. Brushing out this golden brown of her hair after she had been out for so long. Mixed colors of these strands, of blonde highlights of varying shades brightening the browns everywhere, just as varied. Out of the corner of my eye, I watched as Shepard continued to drink her water. Even as I breathed harder next to her face—in my diligence to do this for her, in my anger—she stayed calm. I found some of my own calm from observing her. From knowing that this hydration had found her, and would help her in due time. Every time she drank from that cup, she calmed me more, reassuring. Reminding me that she was _here._

Yet even so, I couldn't help these other reminders.

Doing this for her while she lay on that operating table. Unable to wake. Unable to fully sense me.

Brushing out her beautiful hair while she had been clinically brain dead.

Those memories slowed me. Slowing to this halt. I didn't mean to drape my arms over her shoulders in this pause. I only realized my desperation once I felt Shepard's hands on me again. Holding my waist like this. Reaching up my back to press me closer to her, falling into her. The way she owned my curves, inspiring this arch in me, despite my temper, my mood—she knew it was mostly a front, an act. A mask.

"Miranda," she whispered in my ear, _too_ sensual in meaning. "I'm sorry I worried you—"

"—I don't want to hear it," I hissed back.

Undeterred, Shepard embraced me, protecting me all the way down. "Babe, please…"

I hated that she could still make me melt at a time like this—"Don't _babe_ me!"

She should have let me go. She should have given in to me pushing against her shoulders. But she didn't.

"Are you holding a grudge?"

"Of course I am," I snapped. "I could've handled that! Did you not hear Jack say she wasn't going to kill me? I would have been fine! _You,_ on the other hand, know better than to do what you did. Everyone knows you're a glass cannon, and you just proved why! I didn't need you to sacrifice yourself for me!"

"I couldn't let anything happen to you…"

"Goddamnit, Shepard, I'm not some porcelain doll you need to protect at all costs! If anything, it's _clearly_ the other way around. So don't patronize me with that!"

Shepard knew what this was really about.

Repeating this trauma was…unbearable for me.

Repeating it with the team looking to me as their only leader, _worrying about me_ …I couldn't stand it.

Shepard knew this was about my pride—yet she kissed me anyway, smooth in her prideless care for me.

She would have let me yell and scream at her for hours, for days, not caring who heard or who saw. Whatever I needed. Whatever I had to do to get this out. All the while, she wouldn't have taken it personally. Not like that. Not at all. Not in this sense, in the way Shepard held me close with this same doting devotion that I needed from her, and had _always_ needed from her. This embrace of her lips shaped as such luscious wonders, from her tilting into me, and this unyielding power of her arms embracing me more, more so, and far more: I couldn't escape her. I never could. Impossibly light and feathered and more, and more again, I lost track of when I'd closed my eyes, forgetting about this rage.

Masterful in her passions for me, brimming stronger than they had the other day, Shepard had me.

She had me down to this palpable feel of her tongue over mine, thickness of her taste rolling into mine.

She had me deep as this arch over my back, from how I'd let her pull me into her, needing and needing.

Shepard had me deeper, with this sound of her voice reverberating through my mouth: "I want you, Miranda. I can't stop thinking about you. Dreaming about you. You're everywhere for me." Feebly, I tried to push away from her, to no avail. She gripped me tighter, imploring—"I have to know you. Everything about you. _Everything_ about the woman you are. I can't help myself around you anymore. I just can't." Reaching down my thighs, down my legs, as if reaching down to my boots; she nearly sent me into cardiac arrest once she said: "I need to be inside of you. All the way, to make love to you soon."

"Shepard," I breathed, writhing in her arms. "That isn't fair…"

Fairness or not, she kept her lips to mine. Moving into me; making me moan in ways I shouldn't have.

This gift of her softness over mine, and this gentle control weaving through her touch—it all felt too good to be true.

Reality returned to me, to us both, once we heard the sounds of the med bay's door opening.

In walked Dr. Chakwas, getting a good look at Shepard holding me like this, making out with me like this.

I barely remembered to pull away, hurrying to do so. I escaped Shepard's reach, to keep her from entangling me again. And I folded my arms upon Dr. Chakwas' approach, looking away from her amused expression. She could tell that Shepard and I were in the middle of an argument. For obvious reasons.

Dr. Chakwas chose to remain quiet while she performed a scan of her own, tending to Shepard now.

Remembering my professionalism, I changed the subject—"Tali is here. On the _Rayya,_ anyway. She had a sleepover with Joker and Garrus last night. I imagine they're all still there at her home. And it looks like Jack is doing all right now. You should gather everyone in the comm room for the proper introductions. Whenever you're ready, let me know, and I'll inform the team all at once. Please just send me an email."

Shepard got the hint well enough, yet she still sounded so…enamored with me: "I'll do that, then."

I realized how horribly selfish and critical I had been. Acting out in my anger. I shouldn't have done that.

"At any rate…I'm glad you're all right."

I wanted to say the rest of the words in my heart. The simple, obvious words. I had missed her. So much.

I'd hated seeing her in that type of pain. I couldn't take it for another day longer.

She knew what I wouldn't say. "Thanks for handling everything. I knew I could count on you."

And how bittersweet that was.

"I'll see you later, Commander," I declared, leaving the med bay.

"Bye, babe…"

 _Of course_ she made me yearn for her all over again, even with this temper of mine still burning me up.

Speaking of tempers—I noticed another one, from someone else sitting all by himself in the mess hall:

Zaeed sat there at the table, having an…interesting breakfast. He stuffed some plain old rations into his mouth, washing them down with a bottle of water. Even though we had more than enough meals to prepare in the kitchen by now, what with Shepard's insistence on a proper budget for _actual_ food. I was grateful to not have to bother with those military rations, and yet here was Zaeed, willfully eating that poor excuse for a meal, instead of finding something better to start his day with.

Even still, this rough quickness about his motions suggested he wasn't over that fight from last night.

I approached him anyway, keeping the tease out of my voice, "Well, good morning to you, Zaeed."

Zaeed cast me a cold glance. "'Morning, Lawson. You here to eat something? Or poke fun at me?"

"No one's here to poke fun. And I'm not particularly hungry. I'm only wondering why _you're_ here."

"By myself."

"Obviously."

"You can put two and two together. Don't need me to spell it out for you. You're smarter than that."

Zaeed went back to stuffing his face. He attempted to ignore me, hoping I would merely go away.

And I could have just left him alone. I was of the mind to go to the comm room, and speak with the Illusive Man. I had been avoiding him. Even though he had messaged me a number of times during my depressive episodes, asking for a debriefing on the last mission. I knew he understood why I'd chosen to not respond. I needed to go ahead and call the Illusive Man now, today. Getting this over with already.

For the moment, I chose to sit down across from Zaeed at the table.

He grumbled under his breath. Nothing coherent. Just enough to bother me. That, on top of how… _scarce_ his manners were—it made me want to leave. But I kept sitting here. Making up my mind.

First, I shared with him, "Shepard is awake. She's doing fine."

Something in Zaeed's eyes came back to life.

Yet he chose to diminish that feeling, simply grumbling out, "Good to know."

"We don't need to discuss what happened yesterday. I only wanted to thank you. For not unleashing what you had on Tali. It would've been disastrous. I understood completely what you meant."

Curious, Zaeed questioned me, "Did you, now? Then what did I mean?"

"You figured out why she was so sensitive last night."

He accepted that we were on the same page. "Sure I did. Snuffed it out easy. All those dead giveaways."

"I'm surprised you're so observant," I mentioned.

Zaeed snorted. "Wasn't just that. I read your big report twice over. Tali was in there plenty of times."

"And what did you conclude from all of this?"

 _"I_ _concluded_ that the quarian's got a hell of a crush on our captain. Now that you're in the picture, she's probably been crying a river during her goddamn sleepover with the boys. The girl's a girl. She's a sweet old girl. Still innocent, no matter what shit she's gone through. Shepard would have fucking ruined her if they got together instead. She's way too young for a hardass like that. Hates the reminders, you know?"

"Remarkably accurate," I praised. "But it's…unfortunate how right you are. The others don't see it."

Zaeed wondered, "You think she'll try coming for your gig? Swipe Shepard from under your nose?"

"Never that, no. Besides, I trust Shepard to stay faithful to me."

"Then what's going on? Why do I get the sense that Tali's trying to play second-best to you? I got the coded ass message that Shepard likes her, too. In a different way, I guess. It ain't the same as with you."

"Tali does have her role to play," I justified. "As does any other woman who's jealous of me. I do think it's important that Shepard has these reminders. Just because she's with me, that won't erase the rest of her temptations. She still has to live with them. What matters is that she continues to put me first."

Zaeed sounded quite bitter in his wistfulness over the past, "Love's a choice, huh?"

"Yes…in that sense, it is."

He grunted his agreement, but otherwise remained quiet. Caught up in his thoughts about this.

I waited until a polite amount of time passed before standing up. "Something tells me I should leave you be for now. Thank you for having this talk with me, Zaeed. I'd appreciate it if we could keep this quiet."

"Yeah, I hear you," he promised. "I've got no reason to go around with this stuff. We're fine, Lawson."

"I'll hold you to that. Enjoy the rest of your meal."

As I left for the elevator, I took a discreet look around. Making sure that no one else was here; that no one had overheard anything. Thankfully, I didn't spot anyone anywhere. No unidentified members of the crew rushing off to the restrooms to run and hide from me. Nothing of the sort.

But as I headed up to the command deck, and then to the comm room, an idea occurred to me.

I used my omni-tool to bring up the dossiers for the team. One very specific dossier that I had been avoiding:

_'A mechanical and engineering genius beyond her years, Tali'Zorah vas Neema nar Rayya is known as a quarian prodigy among her people. She possesses unmatched specialties in her knowledge of starships, engines, encryption, AI hacking, and her thrifty knack for reusing and improving any scavenged materials she finds out in the field. With battle specializations with pistols and shotguns, Tali'Zorah's ease with combat drones—and a host of other tech abilities—make her a true threat against synthetic enemies. Despite her chronic anxiety problems, Tali'Zorah is responsive and creative when following orders from a respected superior. She is not as successful as a leader herself, as she is unable to separate her emotions from the weight of such responsibilities. Her feelings will often take over in the heat of the moment.'_

_'As the only daughter of the widowed Chief Admiral Rael'Zorah, Tali'Zorah has had a number of expectations placed upon her from a young age. Though she was allowed to have friends, her father insisted that she value her studies—or else—which led to Tali'Zorah developing her chronic anxiety issues. In order to make up for Rael'Zorah's strict style of parenting, Tali'Zorah found her focus through a solitary love for engineering. Despite her status as a prodigy, Tali'Zorah was often viewed by other quarians as privileged, given her father's prominent place on the Admiralty Board. Their status allows them to have a traditional home—by normal galactic standards—compared to the congested shantytowns populating the civilian ships among the Migrant Fleet. Though she gained a great deal of respect after saving the Council under Lieutenant Williams' command, as well as completing her Pilgrimage to become a fully-fledged adult.'_

_'Tali'Zorah retains a number of psychological concerns, following the deaths of her beloved captain, Commander Shepard, and her best friend and confidant, Dr. Liara T'Soni. Severely, her suspicions behind Williams' betrayals have left Tali'Zorah even more distrustful of outsiders, as the tight-knit quarians are already wont to do. After the destruction of the SR-1, Tali'Zorah's traumas have forced her to remain in her father's care, living in her same childhood home with him aboard the Rayya. Though she is technically a crewmember of the Neema, this appears to be in name only, as an exception for her alone.'_

_'More important are Tali'Zorah's sensitivities surrounding her age, and her lack of autonomy at twenty-four years old. Infantilization from her peers—and her father—is merely one side of this pressure point. The most complex are the triggers linked to her unending romantic and sexual attraction toward Commander Shepard. It is unclear how Tali'Zorah is aware of this—but it would appear that the commander's initial rejection of her feelings were predicated upon their differences in age and experience. Tali'Zorah also seems to recognize the contradictions in the commander's reasoning. She possesses an unnatural clairvoyance into Commander Shepard's mutual feelings for her, viewing the sexual dynamic between them through that lens of age. It is possible that this prophetic knowledge helped Tali'Zorah weather the storm of her losses two years ago. Although she displays clear signs of co-dependence, it is still recommended to keep Commander Shepard near her as a protective figure—or something more intimate. Any perceived abandonment may end up destabilizing Tali'Zorah as a result.'_

Even with the incomplete data I'd provided for Tali's dossier, this was accurate enough. Although, there really should have been more emphasis on these last two lines. They were the most important. Critical.

Plus, this was added confirmation that Shepard did indeed value Tali's innocence in that way. I'd already witnessed this for myself, seeing it within her mind firsthand. But reading it in writing like this…it made me reconsider my hard stance against keeping Tali away from Shepard. Maybe, _just maybe,_ I could see myself indulging in their lust for one another. Watching them go at it. Seeing how Shepard behaved with her, unhinged with her. Learning a thing or two about my own submissiveness in the process.

Of course, I'd initially been resistant to anything like this. I'd forbidden Shepard from doing anything else with other women—if she was in a relationship with me. Technically, we weren't together. Not at this moment. In theory, she was free to do whatever she wanted with Tali. Yet somehow, thinking on it now, the thought didn't fill me with the terror and jealousy I'd expected. Instead, the thought of involving Tali with us felt more… _humiliating,_ depending on the context. Given the things I'd hinted to Shepard so far, I found my new fascination with this. Wondering what it would have been like to expose myself to that feeling—of watching Shepard dominate another woman, completely absorbed in her.

After all, thinking on it now, I recalled my initial fascination with this. Taboo and depraved as it all was.

I had witnessed those memories from within Shepard's consciousness. The ones hovering near the edge of her unconscious thoughts, past my domain. Raw intelligence from Tali's genius had already bridged the gap of the eight-year age difference between them, sowing those seeds within Shepard's psyche. Such superior emotional intelligence—Tali could have awoken to her power over Shepard, wielding it as she pleased. Begging, so wanton. Purity and innocence wrapped up in the endearing, sultry tones of Tali's voice, and her innermost needs for Shepard to lose control with her, to possess her, to please her.

To this day, I still saw Shepard as that apex predator. As the older, more powerful dominant. And Tali was her _willing_ prey, as the younger, more innocent submissive. Unlike me. Even though I wanted to be.

I had spent my entire adult life as a hard dominant, never exploring my hidden desires as a switch.

I potentially had a lot to learn from Tali with this. So that helped me to not worry too much. Somewhat.

It would simply come down to whether I trusted Shepard to keep me as her main priority. To not _leave me._

I'd have to observe her first. Shepard and Tali both. Then decide.

I kept all of this in mind as I entered the comm room.

Pulling up the QEC, I called the Illusive Man. He answered straightaway. Inviting me to his grand space.

A glass of bourbon in his hand this time, those ice cubes clinked along the glass as he drank. Narrowed eyes observing me in a non-accusing scrutiny—the Illusive Man appeared neither pleased nor displeased with me. Somewhere in the middle, understanding in his ambivalence, he brought up the obvious:

"Miranda. I wasn't sure when you would decide to call me. You've been ignoring my emails."

"I apologize, Sir," I stated. "It's been difficult since we returned from the _Purgatory_ ship. I don't mean that as an excuse. Simply as a fact."

"Apparently so. I had to get EDI to tell me the details instead. I'd still like to hear your side of the story."

"Well, when Subject Zero escaped from cryo, she wasn't exactly pleased to find us. Shepard attempted to talk her down. She was effective—until Jack noticed my uniform. She despises Cerberus, as you're aware of. Jack lashed out and threatened to harm me. Shepard took the hit from her biotic charge in my stead…to protect me. I'm certain you can imagine the damage that did to someone with her specific weaknesses. I retaliated against Subject Zero, only stopping once Shepard ordered me to. I concluded the negotiations with Jack and successfully brought her aboard, even though she and Shepard were severely injured. The two of them have barely awoken from their respective comas this morning."

"And you were indisposed throughout this time. Upset. Neglecting your work."

"Yes…I was."

Admitting my faults, I expected him to scold me. Reprimand me. Perhaps even discipline me as a result.

Yet he merely said, "I see. We'll treat the past few days as unannounced vacation time. No harm done."

I didn't understand. "Sir…?"

"You're doing just fine now. Aren't you?"

"That's correct. Shepard will be back on her feet soon enough. I can think clearly again."

"Then there's no harm done," he repeated. The Illusive Man drank again, oddly at ease. "Let's move on."

This was all very strange, but I was in no place to question him further. "If you insist…"

The Illusive Man continued the debriefing, "It's unfortunate that Warden Kuril chose to betray us in such an underhanded way. I've sent our legal representatives to deal with the mess from our now-pointless payment to purchase Subject Zero—and that petty attempt to steal the commander away from us. If all else fails, we'll simply have to retaliate against the Blue Suns—or whatever's left of the warden's chain of command back on Palaven. But it's nothing for you to worry about. I'll deal with this as necessary."

"Understood," I replied.

"More importantly, there's another main mission in the works, involving the Collectors. I expect this new opportunity will present itself within the next week or so—much sooner than I'd originally anticipated. The Collectors appear to be obsessed with any and all links to Shepard, including her former teammates. Staff Commander Kaidan Alenko is currently stationed out on Horizon, a human colony in the Terminus Systems. I believe the Collectors may decide to target that particular colony next, knowing that Alenko is there. I'm still waiting on the proof I need to verify my suspicions. I'll keep you updated."

"Of course. Shepard will need some time to recover. I'd like her to relax as much as possible for now."

"I can agree with that," said the Illusive Man. "Though I do wonder about Horizon. The commander will no doubt be tempted to recruit Alenko during the mission. If he isn't abducted by the Collectors, that is. He won't be pleased to see Shepard with Cerberus, or with you. You'll need to be prepared for that."

"Yes, that's true. Despite all that's happened, I trust that Shepard will be able to convince him to join. Alenko may have heard about her involvement with us by now. I'm confident that she'll be able to persuade him regardless. It should help to have another Alliance soldier with us. For familiarity's sake."

The Illusive Man then went off on an unexpected tangent, "And what about you, Miranda? Are you confident in how much you trust Shepard? Or are you concerned about the quarian?"

I should've known he'd watched my conversation with Zaeed through the surveillance feeds.

Clearly, there was no point in skirting around the issue, or feigning ignorance. He wouldn't buy it.

So I told him, "I am confident in this as well. But I won't lie. I made the mistake of underestimating Tali before. I do hope that she'll choose to take a more amicable approach to our situation. Whatever she decides, I won't risk any repeats of the past. That's over and done with. I'd like to get along with her. As far as Shepard is concerned, I respect Tali's power and influence. She does hold certain advantages."

"Based on her interactions with you in the med bay, it would appear that she's aware of her power. Tali'Zorah doesn't behave as the troubled soul bogged down by unrequited affections. She harbored too many regrets in the past, in not expressing herself. After so much loss, this is her chance to be fully honest with Shepard. Now is her time to act. Don't you agree?"

Speechless and swordless, I locked up over the obvious truth. From everything flying right over my head.

_I was compromised._

My fascinations and possible allowances had just barely primed me for the Illusive Man's warnings:

"Miranda, let's not mince words. While I don't believe Tali'Zorah is an outright threat to your relationship, there _is_ something transpiring beneath the surface. She knows that you're Shepard's protector. She knows that she cannot risk breaking the two of you up—otherwise, the consequences will be severe. The problem lies with your ties to Cerberus. Naturally, Tali'Zorah doesn't trust you. Her opinion of you carries significant weight in Shepard's view. So, it is highly likely that you'll find yourself entering into a negotiation with her. One where you won't quite have the upper-hand. She will instead."

Even when I found my voice again, I barely recognized myself—"Yes…that's true. It's very true, actually."

"I hope you understand what this means."

It bothered me more that _he_ understood. "Of course, Sir. I'll…take the time to think it over. To prepare."

"Good," accepted the Illusive Man. "I'm glad that we were able to have this discussion today. Sooner rather than later. At least, before Shepard inevitably visits Tali'Zorah's home on the Flotilla. Her father, Chief Admiral Rael'Zorah, may be in-the-know. Or he could suspect what's going on. I was able to confirm that the father and daughter did in fact have a falling-out last year over the matter of Tali'Zorah's sexual orientation. I can speculate that he's come around to accepting her truth by now. If she has his approval to have Shepard in any capacity, then this will only embolden her. Doubly so if Joker and Garrus Vakarian are in on this. Possibly Urdnot Wrex as well."

"I appreciate your insight, Sir," I expressed. "I've sadly been too distracted to consider all of this. And I suppose you should know…that I initially forbade Shepard from getting involved with anyone else. When I made those stipulations, I wasn't thinking about the bigger picture. Or this obvious, glaring problem."

"That's understandable," he sympathized. "Once again, there's no harm done. I don't want you to worry about this, Miranda. Because you're certainly right about the past—it _is_ over and done with. Tali'Zorah is intelligent enough to not provoke any repeats of that massacre. As are you. If she can accept being Shepard's second priority, with you as the clear first, then the three of you will be just fine. I believe she can."

"You sound oddly confident in your assessment of what she'd allow. Do you have proof about this?"

The Illusive Man insisted, "I'll get to that in a moment. For now, we need to squash this Cerberus issue with Tali'Zorah. As much as we can, at least. The quarian people typically distrust outsiders as it is. And they have a wholly negative view of our organization. I'm sure you know why."

"Yes, of course," I soured. "Our former operative Paul Grayson didn't do us any favors with the stunt he pulled with the Migrant Fleet not too long ago. He nearly blew up the _Idenna_ in search of his biotic daughter, Gillian. He did make some amends in turning over the information to disarm the bomb before it went off. Hundreds of civilians could've died. It's a miracle that Kahlee Sanders from the Alliance was able to win the quarians over. Otherwise, they may have come to despise _all_ humans instead of just Cerberus."

"I'm glad to see you remember the particulars of that troubling report. As an olive branch, I'll send Shepard the classified details of what happened. I'll also encourage her to share this with Tali'Zorah and her father. Losing track of Grayson after the incident was an embarrassment for us—we won't be able to hide that. But the trade-off will be worth the gains in the end. We need Tali'Zorah on our side."

"I doubt she'll ever fully trust us—but this should be a fine olive branch, as you said."

"It's my hope that this will go a long way in smoothing over your upcoming negotiations with her. Let's not forget that she is also present within Shepard's mind. Her influence—even if it isn't as powerful as yours—should be a net positive. Perhaps Tali'Zorah's sway over Shepard will act as that backup plan you anguished over before. You were convinced that there was no safety net, should you somehow run afoul of Shepard's needs in the future. Something tells me that this is the answer you were looking for."

Lessening Shepard's possible ire and rage.

Keeping the worst from happening.

A backup plan. A safety net.

That _did_ alleviate my worst issues with this plan… But I still didn't want to provoke Shepard all the same.

"That makes sense," I responded. "Thank you for pointing it out to me."

"Before you depart, I'd like to point out one final thing. Or rather, I'll send you an email with what I've discovered. You noticed how confident I was about Tali'Zorah's willingness to play second-best to you. I was finally able to uncover a critical conversation between her and Dr. T'Soni. The two of them exchanged private messages with one another during Shepard's thirtieth birthday, while the team were on Thessia for shore leave. This was only the beginning of their discussion. But it fills in the gaps and questions we had surrounding Tali'Zorah's knowledge about Shepard. You'll need to read this carefully."

"Understood, Sir. I'd never been able to reveal any of Tali's private exchanges through the team's old chat room. She covered her tracks a little too well for me to handle. At any rate, I'll read it as soon as you send it over. Carefully, as you said. Thank you again."

"It's already sent," said the Illusive Man, as I received the alert to my omni-tool. "I'll let you go over this on your own. We'll talk again before Horizon next week. I'd like to brief you and Shepard both at that time."

"Of course. We'll speak then."

As soon as the QEC call dissolved, bringing me back to the normalcy of the comm room, I pulled up my omni-tool. I brought up my email with a quickness. Finding the Illusive Man's message. He'd cryptically chosen not to include anything in the body of his email. Just the subject line about _Knowledge._

I opened the attachment he sent—the logs of that conversation between Tali and Liara.

While I leaned against the center table, I soon found myself absorbed in their historical exchange on Thessia two and a half years ago:

_[12:03:04] Tali: Liara._

_[12:05:44] Liara: Yes, Tali?_

_[12:06:02] Tali: Where are you? I haven't seen you since yesterday when we left the ship together. Since we arrived at your mother's house. You left me all alone. My anxiety is flaring up again._

_[12:07:22] Liara: I am sorry for disappearing. I did not mean to worry you. I'm still handling a few affairs with my mother's estate. Benezia left me far more than I could have ever imagined… I will tell you about it later. Why are you anxious? Is something the matter?_

_[12:08:31] Tali: I'm at the house, sitting by myself in one of the living rooms. Kaidan, Garrus, Joker, and Wrex are on the other side, laughing about guy things. They can't even tell that I'm miserable._

_[12:09:20] Liara: Why are you miserable? What's wrong? Please, tell me everything._

_[12:10:00] Tali: Shepard and Ashley have finally stopped pretending. They're out in the open now._

_[12:10:51] Liara: Oh…yes. Yes, that. I am aware. I figured it was only a matter of time._

_[12:11:21] Tali: So did I. But I've never heard Shepard laugh the way she did. She sounds happy. I hate it._

_[12:12:14] Liara: Tali, you know as well as I do that they won't last for long._

_[12:14:02] Tali: Yes, I know, I know. We've had the same conversation over and over. They won't last. It will all burn out. Ashley is a liar and I shouldn't trust her. She lied to my face all this time about not chasing after Shepard, so who is to say that she won't lie about far more? I just can't let myself brood over that right now. There's something else on my mind. Something more important._

_[12:14:44] Liara: Okay, then. I am glad that you are realistic about this. What else is on your mind?_

_[12:15:02] Tali: You know everything about Shepard. Don't you?_

_[12:15:30] Liara: Yes…why?_

_[12:15:58] Tali: Then you know what I want to know._

_[12:16:04] Liara: …_

_[12:17:40] Tali: Please, Liara. You're already aware that I spoke with her yesterday. You must know what we discussed. I'm happy that she and I are actually friends now. But I noticed something unusual about her. I need you to confirm if I'm right or not. I'm begging you. Shepard and Ashley are in the bigger living room playing video games together. This is going to drive me insane. I understand that you'd be betraying a lot by sharing this information with me. I promise you that I won't tell anyone. Ever._

_[12:18:04] Liara: Very well, Tali… I trust you to keep this as our secret. What would you like to know?_

_[12:18:30] Tali: Is Shepard attracted to me or not? Does she want to have sex with me?_

_[12:18:59] Liara: Yes, with or without your suit. It is not an issue. Your voice and your personality are incredibly sexy to her. From the photograph you gave to me, your physical beauty will be a strong bonus._

_[12:19:17] Tali: Well, that's good to know… Quite the ego boost, too. How much does she want me?_

_[12:19:40] Liara: Far more than she is consciously aware of. Aside from what I just mentioned._

_[12:20:02] Tali: Then what else is she aware of? What's stopping her from taking me? Is it only Ashley?_

_[12:21:39] Liara: Shepard admires your intelligence above all. From what I have gathered, your genius and expertise diminish the otherwise awkward matter of the eight year age difference between the two of you. Your raw vulnerability is also a clear draw, as brave as you have always been to embrace her, no matter her outward mood. Your innocence and submissiveness entice her greatly as well. Unfortunately, Shepard has chosen to temper her desires. The same qualities she needs in you seem to be pushing her away. She feels that you are far too precious for someone like her. She is deeply afraid of hurting you._

_[12:22:12] Tali: Wait a minute… Need? She needs me?!_

_[12:22:45] Liara: Once again, Tali, she is not conscious of what's going on here._

_[12:23:04] Tali: I know how Shepard needs you. Is there anything in Ashley that she needs? Like this._

_[12:23:46] Liara: Not remotely, no. Ashley cannot offer her the same extremes that you do. The polarity simply isn't there. If anything, Ashley is stubborn enough to continue validating Shepard's existence. Yet their habit of butting heads with one another is bound to be the end of them. It is not so with you._

_[12:24:05] Tali: Then if that's the case, why hide this? What could she possibly hurt me with?_

_[12:24:30] Liara: Shepard is vaguely aware that she would be your first._

_[12:24:41] Tali: For a reason!_

_[12:25:01] Liara: Trust me, I know._

_[12:25:30] Tali: What, does she think that I need some delicate prince charming to sweep me off my feet? That I should have a 'normal' experience first? With someone who's too weak to ever hurt me at all?_

_[12:25:55] Liara: Perhaps not in so many words. But, yes, I would agree with you._

_[12:26:29] Tali: So what you're saying is that she's coddling me. Babysitting me. Treating me like some little girl she has to protect. Just like everyone else does. Is that it?_

_[12:27:01] Liara: Sadly, yes… I'm sorry._

_[12:27:57] Tali: Keelah, this is infuriating! What the hell does it matter if I'm a virgin? If she admires my intelligence this much, why can't she accept that I'm not a little girl anymore?! It's not even about having a real relationship! I would be perfectly content with the two of you being together like that instead. All I want is for Shepard to be honest with herself, especially when her girlfriend is such a liar. She could never have me at all and I wouldn't fight it—as long as she wasn't in denial. Why is she making this so difficult?_

_[12:28:40] Liara: Tali, she has made a habit out of running away from things. Running away from any thoughts or emotions that are too much for her to face. You know this about her as well. I cannot say that Shepard will ever change her thinking on her own._

_[12:29:06] Tali: Believe me, I'm tempted to just seduce her already. I understand that it would be a mistake. It isn't my place to start drama about this. I know that I will have to manage somehow. Eventually. But right now, I want more details._

_[12:29:30] Liara: Then tell me what else you would like to know. Anything to keep you from making that mistake. I don't want you to possibly make yourself a target for Ashley's wrath. You must stay out of this._

_[12:29:54] Tali: I see the same, Liara. I really do. I will stay out of it. I just need to know…the possibilities._

_[12:30:13] Liara: You mean what the sex would be like between the two of you._

_[12:30:20] Tali: Yes, that. Please_ _…_

_[12:30:58] Liara: Well, maybe we should discuss this in-person. I will return home soon. Wherever Shepard would like us to go tonight for her birthday, we can continue talking about this while we're there. Although, I already know that you will ask me for something else. To hold you over._

_[12:31:14] Tali: You're my best friend for a reason. You know me._

_[12:31:40] Liara: Of course, Tali. Perhaps some positive thinking will help as well. For the future._

_[12:32:03] Tali: Hmm, true. I'm going to be angry with Ashley for a while. And Shepard. I'll get over it. Positive thinking. Okay. I'll find a way to focus more on my duties until then. Serving our captain._

_[12:33:12] Liara: Good. Now, before I get into the rest, there is something I need to explain. I am not sure how familiar you are with power dynamics. Or with sex and relationships in general. We haven't talked about you like this. I never brought it up because you seemed rather averse to these topics. Aside from that amusing conversation we had with Ashley at the bar on Noveria, you have kept your own curiosities out of the picture. And I had initially dismissed your crush on Shepard as something that was entirely innocent. But you have proven me wrong. So I'd like to know what your thoughts and experiences are._

_[12:34:22] Tali: I'll admit I was very sheltered before I met her. What you said about your mother wanting to keep you pure—my father was the same. Aside from me pretending to be straight, he got what he wanted when I was younger. I used to idolize films like Fleet and Flotilla as the ultimate romantic experiences. I think I told you that my friends and I would have sleepovers together, watching that particular film and reciting all the lines by heart. Watching it again yesterday with Ashley and the guys, after my talk with Shepard…it made me see how naïve I used to be. I'm really not that girl anymore._

_I've also heard that sex is about power. I don't know what that means. I want to learn. Privately, I'm no stranger to nerve stimulation programs. Simulating those sensations in my suit. When I first saw her…she awoke something in me. My dreams even changed once I started doing this, not long after I joined the team. I use my programs almost every night in bed, thinking about Shepard's strength in ways that frighten me. Maybe I enjoy the fear, but it isn't enough. I need her to actually kiss me. I need her to do more than that. A lot more._

_[12:34:50] Liara: Thank you for sharing this with me, Tali. It is very helpful and insightful. Since you are eager to learn more, I will teach you. But are you not concerned about your immune system?_

_[12:35:20] Tali: That is the main obstacle. Aside from taking immuno-boosters and antibiotics beforehand, I'm not sure what else I could do. Being exposed to her more and more over time would lessen my allergic reactions. Eventually, my system would adapt. I wouldn't get sick anymore. Until then, there is always the chance that I could die. I know she wouldn't want to risk that happening to me._

_[12:35:43] Liara: There might be a way for you to go through the process beforehand. Slowly. More gradually. Ideally to lessen the risk. I could help you find what you need. Though it would have to wait until after we deal with Saren. We shouldn't jeopardize the mission. I will collect what I can in the meantime._

_[12:36:03] Tali: I'm not sure what you mean…but I appreciate it. Thank you. Now what is this you mentioned about power dynamics? Polarity? Does it have anything to do with how submissive I am?_

_[12:36:40] Liara: It does. This may be a long conversation. I hope you are alone._

_[12:36:55] Tali: I'm leaving upstairs to your bedroom now. If that's all right._

_[12:37:21] Liara: Certainly. I've already made sure that my door will unlock for you. Let me say goodbye to my colleagues. After I finish renting the car I mentioned for Shepard's birthday, I will return and meet you in my room. We can speak here until then. Though I promise your patience with her should pay off. Eventually. One day, it will._


	35. Ingénue - The Nomad

_"A Different World" by Sad Dad ft. Judy Alice Lee_

**XXXV.** Ingénue – The Nomad

_(Tali'Zorah vas Neema nar Rayya)_

_After time adrift among open stars,  
Along tides of light and through shoals of dust,  
I will return to where I began._

Drifting on as a nomad, even now, I could never know if this poem made sense for me anymore.

Drifting through some indistinct place. Never knowing where I belonged. Uncertain if I was worthy to be on this stage, viewed of points, viewed of my perspective. Not believing in what I had to offer, in speaking my truth to myself, with myself, somehow for my heart to open up to so many watching eyes. Numerous as the stars I'd drifted through before, and drifted through now on the Flotilla, all alight in untold magnitudes. Yet the matter of my own importance to this cause was still unclear to me. Shoals obscuring, darkening, thickening. Dusting across these answers I should have had by now. Kicking up more questions over whether I should have acted on this or not. This truest feeling deep in my soul:

This knowledge that I had given up before. Relegating myself to the background when I didn't need to do that. Not quite believing in my own voice, and holding it close to my chest. Losing my voice all the same, while others talked over me— _for me._ Defining me in ways that I couldn't hope to change before.

I began this life of mine so far away from the truth. Away from the light. Away from that sun _I loved._

How fitting that only the hottest, most dangerous rays of sunlight felt like where I belonged.

I knew that I would never be her first priority. That ship had taken off by now. _Sailed,_ or however her peoples' saying went—drifted far, far away. As if it had ever been present in the first place. And yet I couldn't help feeling that I had a place somehow. A place in her heart. Or it was just wishful thinking…

I didn't think I would be here, open and exposed, if it was only a fleeting wish. Like when she was dead.

I would never know for certain. Not until I made up my mind about this: about how to move forward.

Right now, this persistent hum of the _Rayya's_ engines at work reminded me that I was at home. Safe.

Or at least, I should have been. I should have felt at home; I should have felt safe.

I should have, but I didn't. Not anymore. Not since before my Pilgrimage.

Not since I'd witnessed the rest of the galaxy for myself, finding that sun burning brighter than all.

More persistent were the sounds of Joker and Garrus sleeping away along the mats on the floor, here in my room, not far from my bed. Covered-up as they were in their breather suits and helmets, I could still hear them. Joker most of all. His snoring could've woken Father down the hall. Instead, I couldn't sleep.

With or without Joker's snoring, I doubt I would have been able to sleep anyway. For some reason, I hadn't felt all that tired lately. I wasn't sure if this was just stress keeping me awake with insomnia, or if something else had actually changed me. Sometimes I would get truly tired and sleep, like normal. Other times, like now, I could stay up for several days in a row and not feel any different. The same with eating. I usually didn't have an appetite these days. I hated having to skirt around this problem with my father. I would eat whatever he brought home from the liveship stocks, whether I was hungry or not. I didn't need to give him a reason to go back to interrogating me about every little thing. _Never again._

I did find it strange that this phenomenon started after Freedom's Progress.

After Shepard had woken up. Once she was back with us again. Even if it was intermittent like this.

If there was some _connection_ going on…then maybe I had a bigger role to play than I once thought.

As I lay in bed, staring up at the steel of my room's ceiling, I began hoping again. Believing in the promise that Liara had given me so long ago… That my patience would pay off one day.

That promise of hers had sustained me, even in her death. Even in Shepard's death. While I lived here.

I had spent the past two years stuck in this childhood room of mine, still living under my father's care. Elevated, in a way, above the other quarians who lived here on the _Rayya,_ my birth ship, as well as every other civilian ship in the Fleet. They all lived with next-to-no privacy, sharing open living areas out in the crew decks, with only cubicle-like spaces to call their own. Entire families would live in a single unit, with only sleeping mats as beds, and their sole belongings comprising of vid screens or radios taking up the meager amount of space around them. Actually having a door to one's private area was even a rarity—everyone had to settle for decorative sheets to mark which cubicle belonged to their family. Compared to them, I was practically the royalty they would often accuse me of being. Having an actual set of rooms sealed within a home-like space aboard a quarian ship was unheard of—except for members of the Conclave, our civilian government with representatives from each ship, and the Admiralty Board, our judicial military leaders who oversaw the Conclave. Even ship captains often had the same sorts of living spaces as the rest of the citizens. No matter their influence in our strange government breed of martial law and democracy, the captains weren't afforded this luxury. It was only for people like me, since my father was an admiral. _Privileged._

This simple, square room of mine was nothing like what other species were used to. I didn't like how cold it was, in this steel—without my temperature programs within my enviro-suit, I usually had to bundle up under a few blankets over my bed. But it was something. I had a soothing view outside the window to the rest of the stars and the Flotilla's ships—and Shepard's ship docked out there in the far distance, waiting for me as my other home. I also had enough space on the shelves to set out my memories of the past—mostly sentimental collections of machines I had tinkered with in my younger days. Some model ships as well, including one of the original _Normandy,_ glittering in this gentle starlight trickling in through the window. And I had a few pictures lined up there, reminding me of my loves.

Feeling nostalgic all of a sudden, I got out of my bed, wandering over to the shelves. Over to those pictures.

I stared at them while Joker and Garrus slept on behind me. Doing my best to ignore Joker's snoring.

Looking at these through the violet lens of my mask…it always reminded me of my confinements. How I wasn't able to live freely in my own space. None of us had that freedom as quarians. Even this picture of my mother: she still wore her suit as well. These violets looked so beautiful on her. The shape of her hood had such an elegance about it, mirroring the long hair I knew she had underneath. Only the kindness radiating from her could make her stand out from most other quarian women around. Ever so kind, always looking out for others… Never putting herself first. Forever thinking of the greater good.

My mother had embodied the essence of our people. Our sense of unity and community. How we stayed together, sacrificing for one another. Charity, closeness, _community._ We had this community of ours in unity, to make up for our wandering ways. Even though the geth had driven our ancestors from the homeworld, we still had each other. Our sense of family was our truest spirit as a people. Unbroken.

Meanwhile, this photograph of my father with me, about ten years ago while I'd worn my old suit…it had never looked right to me. Even though he was standing next to me, directly, it seemed like he was so far away. These variants of red and steely gray along his squarer enviro-suit for quarian males—it did a lot to define his personality. His strictness, his distance. His stark contrast to everything my mother was. I knew their love had been an obvious case of _opposites attract._ But his stern seriousness had never reached me in a good way. Always in a cold way. Extremely cold, like my room. Like this house of ours.

Father's obsession with his research reminded me of this cold.

As if he loved his work more than he loved me.

In trying to do the right thing—never putting myself first—I had tried to live up to him. Only recently did it feel like I had finally met his expectations, earning his approval. I wasn't sure if it was worth the cost.

In short, my peoples' conservative, utilitarian, isolationist culture could get tiresome at times.

Having accepted our way of life with a proud defeatism, most quarians went through life on autopilot. They had their routines; their expectations to fulfill from their families, like doing well in school. Taking a job as part of the military, or a ship guard, or a pilot, or a mechanic, an agricultural engineer for creating food for the liveships, or some other function to serve the Fleet. Then marrying and mating with someone from a different ship, to encourage genetic diversity and prevent any harmful birth defects. And then settling down in one of those cubicles, bringing a child or two into our already-crowded ships. But no one ever grew up with big motivations to change the world. We had lost our world. And so, many of my people had lost their way. Settling for less in fearful ignorance. Too scared to dream—to dare to believe in any greater ambitions.

_They had no imagination._

My father had left me to raise myself in his expectations for me. Imagination was all I'd had to survive.

I had grown to envy humans and their sense of individuality. Even their selfishness. Shepard's powerful sense of individualism had drawn me to her from the start. The way she never allowed anyone to define her, forever writing her own story, on her own terms—I'd learned those lessons from her. Over time.

I'd learned them the most after her victory, after the Battle at the Citadel. And here was the picture on my shelf, defining that time for me. After she'd disabled Sovereign, and the Citadel fleets had destroyed the Reaper, she'd returned to the ship. Not caring about anyone else, for once, except for Shepard—I'd hurried to hug her first, feeling relieved and ecstatic all at once that she was okay. Looking at this now, at the way she'd smiled in that attractive calm of hers, holding me tight—I remembered the way I had cried, then. Clinging to her. Clinging to my rare selfishness in basking in her while everyone watched.

Ashley had taken this picture of us. It was the only thing left of her that I allowed myself to keep. I had sent this to Shepard, not mentioning the photographer. Keeping it a secret seemed to be the best idea.

Speaking of secrets…I found the most relevant picture here, sitting next to the frame of me with the guys—Joker, Garrus, Wrex, and even Kaidan—from about a year ago when we'd all met up on the Citadel, at the Citadel Tower with all the beautiful gardens and cherry trees around. And without Ashley, on purpose, since she had _unfortunately_ been busy with her N7 training at the time. Right beside that photo was one of many I'd had of Liara and me:

We'd chosen to commemorate this important day. Shepard's thirtieth birthday, on Thessia during that pivotal shore leave of ours. In the picture, I was in Liara's room with her, after she'd returned home from being gone all day. We'd had our conversation through private messages, where she had told me the initial information I'd longed to hear…about how and why Shepard needed me in her life, and not just in a sexual way. Initially, I had been overjoyed to learn the news. And so I had taken off my mask, actually letting Liara see my face outside of the picture I'd given her before. Actually getting to smile with her, with Liara's pretty blue face right next to me in this picture—I'd adored the experience. As a sweet, accidental thing between us, Liara had given me my first kiss that day…even though I'd gotten sick with a fever for a couple of days afterward, having to hide the truth from everyone else. That breezy, gentle feeling from her kiss, like standing at an ocean's edge, had stayed with me through some of my sexual dreams over the years: that next step of her melding with me, embracing eternity, and more. Confusing me, sometimes. Keeping me safe at other times, bundling me in a warm blanket of nostalgia.

Not long after we'd taken this picture, reality had set in:

The reality that I'd had all of this knowledge—to possibly seduce Shepard over to me—and I couldn't use it. Knowledge about her reluctances, too. Knowing how she could have had me, if she would stop treating me like some child. Coddling me. Babysitting me. Yet she had chosen to run off with Ashley instead.

Drinking alcohol had felt like the best remedy at the time. Drinking, and drinking—thinking about how I could have had Shepard in the palm of my hand. If only I had appealed to her subconscious sense of vanity…by showing her my face. By letting her see that we quarians were—somehow—almost human in appearance, at least with our initial shapes and skin tones. Aside from our tri-fingered hands. And our bright eyes. And the lines, the markings over our skin. But she would have recognized the wavy length of my dark hair and admired me for it. She would have appreciated the length of my face, the soft structure and the youth there; the proportions of my facial features compared to other human women.

Shepard would have found me beautiful as a collective whole.

Perhaps even beautiful enough to forget about Ashley—to sweep me off my feet and _take me_ instead.

So I had drank and drank at that club, Dark Goddess, trying to forget my bitter anger and regrets, only to end up blackout drunk. To this day, I still couldn't remember anything from that night. Embarrassingly.

Ashley had probably assumed that I was jealous of her.

If I hadn't had my suit in the way, then _she_ would have been jealous of _me._ Not the other way around!

Hell, even Joker had nearly choked once he'd seen this picture of me yesterday. Garrus had cleared his throat in that awkward way of his, too. They had both made some strange attempts at calling me attractive. And then I'd forced them to change the subject, catching me up on the rest of the drama.

But it was painful to look at this now. To look at Liara now. Because of what I knew about her today.

That drama with her and Ashley. Their insane rivalry. The one I should have been able to spot for myself.

Having all of my suspicions confirmed in this retroactive way—it was like reopening an old wound after I'd convinced myself that it had long-since healed. The three of us had spent all night going over this, reopening my wounds…and inflicting new ones. While I had been relieved to learn about Miranda's involvement in saving Shepard, I couldn't help feeling jealous of her. Automatically. For obvious reasons.

And then that had turned into a painful confession to Joker and Garrus about my feelings for Shepard. Finally coming clean to them after all this time. Confirming their thoughts, since they'd guessed as much.

I could never tell them about what Liara had shared with me.

I could never tell _anyone_ about this. Not even Shepard.

Keeping this promise to Liara, to keep this between us—it was a lot like keeping our friendship together.

Because without this knowledge she had given me…I would have killed myself. After Shepard had died, I'd only had Liara. Seeing Liara's dead body in that morgue…that would have been it. I'd pictured it so clearly: finding some way to shut off my suit's breather functions. Suffocating myself to death. Ending it all right then and there.

But I had chosen to hold on. To not give up. I had chosen to live with the hope Liara had given me. That knowledge. All because I couldn't stand the thought of losing that hope through death somehow. Losing it; having it slip away from me in that unknown. I couldn't know what would have happened to my hope in the cold darkness of death. And so I had chosen to hold on to it. Holding on to life that way.

Everyday life, as it was now, as I returned to bed, lying down there once more.

These simplicities—I used my omni-tool to check the comm network for the Flotilla. I found the most recent news updates. The Conclave's representatives were apparently still dealing with this recent change about our society. Ever since Cerberus attacked the _Idenna,_ our citizens felt helpless, and not nearly as safe here in the Migrant Fleet as they did before. The Admiralty Board was also torn on how to proceed with this sudden change in public opinion: the new debates about whether we should fight the geth to take back Rannoch, our homeworld, make the costly efforts to colonize elsewhere, or to continue doing nothing.

I knew that this would blow out of proportion somehow. Someday. Quarian politics were not quiet at all.

Quiet for a moment, before a change: Joker's snoring stopped, before he suddenly yawned. _Loudly._ As he stretched upon the sleeping mat, groaning over the aches in his bones, Garrus shifted around, sighing. I had a feeling that Garrus might not have been asleep after all. At least for the past hour or so.

"Hey, Tali, you're awake!" said Joker, a bit chipper. "Couldn't sleep, huh? All that drama got you wired?"

Grumpy, Garrus answered for me, "What with all that snoring of yours, it's no wonder she's still up."

"Oh, yeah… Sorry, man. Forgot to warn you. I'm used to sleeping alone, you know?"

Garrus caught the slight sadness behind Joker's tone. "I understand what you mean. No worries, then."

"I was just checking the news," I told them. "News from the Flotilla, anyway. Everyone's still debating."

"Sounds like a big deal," noticed Joker. "If your people haven't shut up about it by now, then something's gotta change. One of these days. Didn't you say it's not sustainable for you guys to stay out here on these ships forever? Or was that some kinda rumor?"

"I'm actually not sure if it's true or not. I've heard the rumors spreading among the ship captains. They think that the Flotilla won't survive over the next century or so. Our population is stable, but we can only add, repair, and maintain so many ships at a time. We're already overcrowded to an extreme. So, it's possible that there's a lot more to this rumor. I wish they would come out and say something already."

Garrus knew: "I'm sure they don't want to cause a panic over this. There's already a fierce debate going about whether your people should take action. If they knew there was a time limit, it could start chaos."

"You're right," I agreed. "I don't like being kept in the dark, that's all. I feel so helpless."

Joker made the obvious transition, "You know, _speaking of_ being kept in the dark…"

I turned away from them, pulling my blanket over my head. "Not this again, Joker…"

"Aw, c'mon, Tali! After everything you told us about Shepard, did you seriously expect us to drop this?"

Garrus added, "I'd have to say the same. Sounds like you feel pretty strongly about her. This isn't just going to go away. Why not do something about it?"

"There's nothing I _can_ do!" I argued, my already-filtered voice muffled beneath the blanket.

"Well, that's not the right attitude to have. We know she likes you back. There's a vibe she gives off."

"Yes, and she's with Miranda! You said they're dating. They're happy together. I'm not a homewrecker!"

Joker sounded much too sly: "Hey, no one said you have to break them up…"

"I am _not_ having an affair with Shepard!"

Garrus insisted, "You don't have to do that, either."

"Yeah, hello?" teased Joker. "Ever heard of threesomes? _Special arrangements?_ You can get it."

The arrangement that Liara and I had planned on having with Shepard…once Ashley was out of the way.

Of course I knew what they meant.

But I stayed quiet anyway. I felt much too uncertain if Miranda would ever allow such a thing. She _seemed_ like the possessive type. Then again, I didn't know her at all. I only knew her story that Joker and Garrus had told me: about how she had smartly manipulated Ashley for two years before defeating her. And I did respect her intelligence. I respected her a lot for what she'd done. Yet I had a problem with her _job._

Cerberus didn't sit right with me. I didn't like the idea of Shepard being so close to them, through Miranda. I worried about them betraying her somehow. Taking advantage of her affections in that way.

I definitely planned on sharing my concerns with her soon. Anything more than that…I wasn't sure yet.

Garrus went on, "You're not fooling us, Tali. You have way more power than you think. Shepard would do almost anything for you. Hell, even Zaeed knows it. I bet that's why he finally shut up last night."

Joker encouraged as well, "You've got this. Just have a talk with her. Cash in on that confessional time she offered before. Then get some negotiations in with Miranda— _you know._ Work that magic of yours!"

Even as I removed this blanket from my head, conceding their point that way, I still wasn't sure…

I told them, "I don't know what _magic_ you're talking about."

"It's your honesty," noted Garrus. "Your sincerity. You're authentic. It's not something you can buy."

 _"Be honest_ doesn't sound like the best advice to me. There are too many risks involved. You know that."

Joker chuckled. "You'll change your mind once you see Shepard again. I guarantee you. Go for it!"

"Definitely," settled Garrus. "Hopefully she wakes up soon. She's strong. She'll get through this—"

Right as he said that, we all received an alert to our omni-tools, from the new chat room.

Since Miranda was a moderator with admin privileges, per Garrus, she'd created a new channel, separate from the main room. Strictly for announcements. Keeping things organized, as she would.

My heart skipped a few beats once I saw what this was:

 _[11:30:00] Miranda: **Everyone** ,_ _I'd like your attention. Since we're all here in one place, I'll use this as a way to make important team announcements. Please gather in the comm room for a meeting—at exactly noon. We'll have our formal introductions with our new teammates. I apologize for the short notice. Shepard and Jack have woken up now. I figured you would want to see them as soon as possible._

Joker blurted out, "Holy shit! Already?!"

"We've gotta go!" said Garrus, hurrying to his feet. "Double-time it if we want to be early!"

Struggling to even stand up from his sleeping mat, Joker protested, "Dude, you know I can't run!"

Bypassing the problem, Garrus picked Joker up. "Then let's move!"

"What the hell, man?! Ugh, this is embarrassing!"

I giggled over this strangeness, leading the way back out of my house. "Come on, let's hurry!"

As we rushed down the hall to the sitting room, we found my father there. He sat at the only table in the middle of the small area, having a light meal while he pored over a bunch of datapads. Working even when he wasn't at work, like always. But then came the mini-stampede of me running ahead, with Garrus following after me while carrying a complaining Joker in his arms. We dashed to the front door.

Father stood up with a start, barking at us, "What is this?! Tali, where are you and your friends going?"

"Sorry, Father!" I called, nearly out the door. "We're heading to the _Normandy_ for an important meeting! We can't be late! I promise I'll be back later on!"

"Apologies, Sir!" added Garrus. "It was great meeting you!"

Joker was also polite enough to say, "Thanks for letting us hang out, Admiral! It's been real!"

We escaped outside to the _Rayya's_ crew deck before Father could think to scold us over the commotion.

This joyful energy between friends, we kept as we rushed to the freight elevator. Hurrying through the crowded crew deck proved to be a chore. But Garrus and Joker laughed with me anyway. We did our best to weave around the various other quarians out and about, speaking with their neighbors, or on their way to other places on the _Rayya._ All those cubicles populated the place as much as the quarians did. The actual walls of the ship that would have separated real rooms—they had been torn down, making room for this so-called shantytown of a place. Colored sheets decorated the area more than anything else, serving as those doors to the cubicles housing handfuls of quarians at a time. No privacy, and no separation from the sounds of my friends and me causing this mild disturbance as we ran ahead.

It was safe to say we received some questionable looks from the civilians and ship guards we passed by.

From beneath their masks, anyway.

They gossiped after us, clearly wondering what all the fuss was about. As always, they recognized me as the admiral's daughter—and they knew who Joker and Garrus were, as part of my team on the _Normandy,_ and honored guests here aboard my birth ship. For once in my life, I couldn't care about their whispering and wondering. Not anymore. Not now that I was on my way to see Shepard again; now that she was finally awake. This swell of excitement in my heart rushed through me, pushing me to rush faster, rush stronger. Such an invincible smile stayed on my face even as I breathed quicker from within my helmet. Nothing could breach me at a time like this. And I'd definitely needed this feeling.

Down the freight elevator, we took a shortcut to dock seven, where the _Normandy_ awaited us.

Passing through the airlock again, I was glad to be back in this bright space, much brighter than the original ship had been. This sterile feeling hadn't escaped me last time. When I'd introduced Joker and Garrus to the _Rayya's_ Captain Kar'Danna, he'd said he was very impressed with how clean Shepard's ship was, almost comparing her to a quarian. So that had helped things go much smoother for bringing honored guests aboard the Fleet. We hadn't really had any visitors since the Cerberus incident with the _Idenna._

But no matter my own roots, the _Normandy_ felt like home to me. Welcoming me back after so long.

I allowed this feeling to carry me through. Even as Garrus and Joker were able to remove their helmets upon returning to the ship. While we headed through the command deck to the comm room, I felt these differences. How I couldn't just take off my own suit, or even my mask to pull down my hood. Not here. Not with so many of the crew breathing in this space, existing within this unfiltered air. Maybe if I was in a single room, alone, or with one _particular_ person, I would have been fine. But this was too big of a risk.

Instead, I remained confined. My own skin trapped within this flexible material. Everything about my systems, my senses regulated by programs and filters. Suit seals and sections and spots of plated armor keeping me safe from harm. Harm as simple as the air around us, harmless to everyone except me.

As we reached the lab to head through the hall, we found Mordin wrapping up his latest task. I had met him yesterday while Joker and Garrus had given me a tour of the ship. Mordin had made me laugh with his oddities, speaking the way he did, as if his voice couldn't keep up with his mind. I liked that about him.

Mordin smiled once he saw me. "Ah, Tali! Good to see you, Joker, and Garrus early. Was just on way to comm room now. Perfect timing."

"Hello again, Mordin," I greeted, smiling back. We all headed through the hall together. "Still working on the seeker swarm countermeasure for us?"

"Yes, made recent breakthrough! Should have protections ready in next few days. Forecasts promising."

While Garrus and Joker continued chatting with Mordin, heading into the comm room, I stopped for a moment. Possibly overhearing something. I'd already had my auditory programs tuned quite high, improving my hearing from inside my suit. I preferred to hear as much as I possibly could from my surroundings, even if it didn't seem all that important. Back on the original ship, I hadn't had the luxury of this program, as it had been too expensive at the time. But Father had secured plenty of inheritance money for me since I'd completed my Pilgrimage. So I finally got to live up to my supposed privilege.

Privileged in hearing, now, I shuffled closer to the armory door. Noticing that it was locked. I could hear Zaeed's crass, booming voice coming from within the comm room, so he wasn't in here still working at the last minute. No, there was someone else past the door instead. Two people, speaking together…

Eavesdropping, I could hear the sounds of Miranda's refined accent through my translation program.

In response, I could also hear Shepard's more neutral accent. The depths of her fine voice, subdued.

She tried to whisper, despite their privacy, _"…Miranda, what's this all of a sudden? What's going on?"_

 _"I told you,"_ replied Miranda. _"I'm thinking over what I said on our first date. About Tali."_ About me…? _"I believe I'm willing to be more open-minded. You're going to spend time with her soon. You and I technically aren't together yet. You're free to do what you want. So, I'd like you to be honest with her."_

Shepard seemed to be speechless.

Just as I was…

Shifting sounds, and I heard Miranda grab onto the smooth, thick material of Shepard's stealth suit. Holding her close, she emphasized: _"But don't you leave me. I'm_ not _Liara. If you run away like you did before, I will chase you down. Relentlessly. I won't abide by any repeats of the past. Do you understand?"_

 _"Yes, babe,"_ came Shepard's docile response. _"I only wish you would let us talk about this some more."_

_"There isn't much to discuss. Not like that. You already know that I expect to come first, regardless of whatever happens with you and her. I need to be your main priority. As long as you keep this going, then I'll rethink what I'll allow—for our eventual scenes together. I'm beginning to see her differently as well."_

_"Differently how…?"_

_"I'm well-aware of how and why you crave her so. You are a shark. You smell her blood in the water."_

Heart nearly pounding out of my suit, I breathed harder.

Shepard wouldn't confirm or deny those words.

 _"Not only that,"_ continued Miranda, _"But I also see the dynamic for what it is. You know how innocent she is, with her intelligence. Tali is completely susceptible to you. Malleable. Impressionable. You can shape her however you want…by doing what she wants. Giving her what she needs. Pleasing her. You are the powerful authority figure in her life. Eclipsing her real father. Maybe I'd like to be your partner in that."_

I could _not_ believe what I was hearing.

Especially once Shepard said, _"Hmm…I get what you're saying. I've been holding back a lot with her. Trying to keep my urges away. I can't take advantage of her. And I don't know how she'll react to this."_

_"I have a feeling Tali will react positively. You can trust her to be mature about this. Give her a chance."_

_"All right, babe. Let me think about this some more. I'll stay in here for a little bit longer. You go on ahead."_

_"Of course,"_ breathed Miranda—and then I heard the supple clasping of her lips over Shepard's, burning me with everything _except_ envy. More arousal crept through me instead, smoldering. _"I'll see you soon."_

_"Bye for now."_

_"Bye, then…"_

Only once I heard Miranda's heels clicking my way did I snap out of this daze.

I rushed into the nearby comm room.

Short of breath, I found everyone else in here as normal. Standing around the center table, caught up in their easy conversation, I tried to blend in with the ambiance all around. Mordin, Garrus, and Joker were on the right side of the table from my view, while… _Legion,_ Zaeed, and Jack were across from them on the left side. All shifted in a direction closer to the head of the table, opposite the door, I assumed Shepard would take that place once she joined us. Taking that place with her powerful authority…

Thinking about Miranda's strangely accurate assessments—I felt so much smaller than I was.

Much, much smaller as I took this place by Garrus' side. Barely listening as he laughed with the others.

Jack was the only other quiet one in the room. She had her tattooed arms folded. Observing everyone.

Observing me, too, while my heart and mind continued to race. While I remembered the past:

Eavesdropping like that had sent me back over two years. Back to the original _Normandy._ Back when I was that voyeur, listening to Shepard have sex with Liara or Ashley. Or just overhearing Ashley getting off in her room, alone, while she muffled herself against her pillows, screaming out Shepard's name. No matter what, I would picture myself in their place instead, my imagination running wild all the while.

And now…so much had changed. Things were so different.

I had no idea what I would do once I was alone with Shepard again.

In his natural attentiveness, Garrus seemed to notice that I wasn't all there at the moment.

So much taller, he gave me a head pat. "Hey, where'd you run off to? Forget something outside?"

"Err, yes," I said, knowing he didn't believe me. "I…got distracted. I'll tell you about it later… _Maybe."_

"Sure thing, Tali. Whatever you're comfortable with."

I was relieved that he chose not to press the issue in front of everyone.

And everyone's conversation dimmed somewhat once Miranda entered the room. Strutting over to the table in her confidence, she didn't seem to mind that everyone continued talking while she was around. She didn't expect them to go completely silent. Not right now. They only quieted down in respect for her presence. So sophisticated. So professional, with this aura she gave off. So much _power_ about her, too.

I could certainly see why Shepard had risked her life to protect this woman.

I saw it more once Miranda approached me—with all of her attractive power.

"I'm glad you made it, Tali," she spoke. "If you wouldn't mind, I'd like you to stand elsewhere. Closer to the head of the table. At least for today. Shepard needs to see you properly while she welcomes you."

"I'll do that, then," I complied. Trying to keep these nerves out of my voice. "Thank you, Miranda."

As I followed her instructions, I expected her to be the closest one. At that exact, adjacent spot.

So I stood next to Mordin, leaving this free space for her on my right side.

But then, completely unexpected, I felt Miranda's gloved hand along the back of my shoulder. Guiding me closer, over, to where her usual spot was. Something about this soft touch of hers felt uncharacteristic on her end. As if Miranda wouldn't do this with just anyone. She chose to do it with me. Even going so far as to situate me in place, settling both of her hands over my shoulders. Placing me just right, right where she wanted me. All with this unusual, special care in her gentleness, getting to me.

And then she removed her hands from me with that same whispery softness, her fingertips lingering over me in a tactile echo. Leaving this soft memory of her touch over me.

While I listened to Miranda verbally direct Jack to do the same—next to Legion—I felt my mind wandering even more. Miranda absolutely put in the meticulous work to make sure that everything was perfect. Almost like the mother setting the table before Shepard arrived as our father for the big family meal, ensuring that not a single dish was out of place. When I had first met Miranda on Freedom's Progress before, I had imagined that the rest of her personality was something like this. She seemed to have such a natural penchant for power, even as she had clearly positioned herself beneath Shepard in her deference, and her obvious obsessions. And I had found myself hoping that she _would_ steal Shepard away from Ashley, seeing as how I didn't have the confidence to do the same. Little did I know what she'd had in store at the time.

Then, when Miranda and I had met again last night in the med bay, I'd surprised myself with my thoughts. Almost wishing for this exact development. Seeing Shepard the way I did, I wondered if I could grow to accept Miranda in this way. How the two of them had this clear fascination with me—predatory in care. Not wishing to harm me. But they wanted to lay claim to me, controlling me like this, with a line of succession set in stone. I knew my dark fascination had slipped through while I'd observed her before.

Miranda had to be the queen, after all.

And she definitely fit the part.

But I still needed to make sure. Because this did feel a little surreal. I'd _wanted_ this for a long time—even if Miranda hadn't been in the picture until just recently. Now to be so close…it was a lot to handle.

I only realized how hot it was in my suit once I felt Jack's eyes on me again.

Blushing over reasons that had nothing to do with her, I avoided her stare anyway. Even though she seemed harmless enough—despite the clear danger she'd presented before when the others had recruited her. Jack's eyes reminded me of the color of hatred. Not entirely red. Warmed by those shades of brown in between. Warmed even more by the slight likeness between us, as Joker and Garrus had told me that Jack and I were the same age. Both the youngest on the team, but able to hold our own. She was very pretty to me as well. The perfect shapes of her facial structure intrigued me.

When I met her eyes, I expected Jack to look away from me. She didn't for some reason.

Just to be nice, I waved hello to her.

Jack nodded her head upward in greeting. Boyish, thuggish. Hardened, too. Then she looked elsewhere.

And then there was Legion. A geth, of all things. It looked somewhat involved in the conversation going on. Listening. Paying attention. Sending data on everyone back to its geth collective. I had no idea why Shepard trusted this thing so easily. It bothered me more that she and Legion were apparently online friends, having played video games together over the extranet during our last mission against Saren and Sovereign. But Legion had also helped to bring her back…so there wasn't much I could say about this.

For Shepard's sake, I would keep an open mind.

Destroying Legion on instinct wasn't really in my best interests now.

Right as I used my omni-tool to lower the temperature in my suit, the door to the comm room opened.

Everyone stopped speaking.

As I watched Shepard cross the room—around the other side of the table, behind Jack and the others—I felt as if I gazed at her for the first time. Every time with her was new, novel, different, just as it had been for me, and as it would be going forward. That structure in her walk, military in strictness, feminine in flow, had that same duality I'd always adored about her. Even in her stealth suit, she had the elegance to leave her hair down, flowing behind her. And the way her skin alone lit up the room even more:

Suddenly this cooler setting with my temperature wasn't enough to keep me from heating up again.

It only grew worse once Shepard took her place beside me.

I spotted that new scar over her left brow. The way it cut through her, marking that gap of skin between the thin, well-shaped follicles of her eyebrow. Somehow, it fit her scowl very well. I enjoyed this look about her, even if I didn't enjoy how she'd earned the scar. It would serve as a memory of her sacrifices.

On purpose or otherwise, Shepard kept her direct attention away from me as she spoke: "Despite the upset during our time on _Purgatory,_ the mission was a success. Jack is with us now, and we're both doing just fine. We're going to take it easy for a while. Until the Illusive Man has our next main mission with the Collectors, I only have one other place in mind for us to go. I'll have Miranda make the announcement about that later." Shepard regarded her, matter-of-fact. "Miranda, I want to thank you for taking over as team leader and captain while I was out. When I made that decision to step in, I factored in your leadership finishing the job. I'm glad to see you stepped up to the task as I expected."

"Of course, Commander," replied Miranda, giving a proud salute. "Thank you for your kind words."

Shepard gave her a stoic nod of approval.

How interesting that the two of them could easily switch between intimacy and professionalism like this.

The mood about the rest of the team warmed a little, as they made similar observations on their own.

Even Jack seemed intrigued—eyeing them both as she did, back and forth, back and forth.

Not to mention, I also noticed that unusual lightning sensation between Shepard and Miranda. It almost felt as if a lightning storm went off inside of my suit. Instead of mere static or electric discharge, I imagined myself out in the middle of a thunderstorm, rain and all, with the two of them acting as nature itself.

When at last Shepard made eye contact with me, I couldn't read a thing about her. I was glad she couldn't read anything about me, either, concealed as I was behind so many layers. Otherwise she would have seen this perpetual redness about my face; my pulse pounding through me. Even my hands behind my back—I'd somehow tangled my fingers into a taut web, holding myself here. Holding all of my pressure here: all of my temptations to toss aside this protocol and jump into Shepard's arms already.

Out of respect for her command, I would never do such a thing. But, of course, _I wanted to…_

"I assume everyone's met Tali already," noted Shepard, glancing around the room. "Except for Jack. So I'll just remind you all that Tali was with me, along with Garrus, during our previous mission against Saren and the geth. Tali and Garrus were part of the team who saved the Council while I worked to deal with Sovereign on the Citadel. Not counting Eden Prime, they've been with me since day one. And Tali was with Miranda and me on Freedom's Progress. As a tech expert, Tali is one of our most brilliant minds on this team. I expect each and every one of you to treat her with the respect she deserves."

As unreadable as Shepard was in her usual seriousness, I wasn't sure if she meant that in a certain way…

_As a threat._

Zaeed soured, anyway. Doing his best to hide it. But I caught that slight guilt about him.

Joker and Garrus seemed amused in comparison. I could only imagine what went on in their heads now.

Shepard's piercing stare went right through me. "Have you had any problems since returning aboard?"

Well, she wasn't supposed to know about the chat room—and Zaeed appeared awfully nervous, so…

"Nothing worth mentioning, Shepard," I replied instead. Trying to keep things light. "I've been okay. Everyone has been very welcoming—in their own ways. I doubt we'll have any issues going forward."

"And those gunshots I heard in my dreams—those weren't from you?"

Joker masked his laugh with a terribly fake cough.

I pulled at my hands behind my back. "Err, well, Legion just suddenly appeared out of nowhere…"

Legion justified, "We detected Creator Tali'Zorah's presence aboard _Normandy._ We wished to make first contact with her on peaceful terms. Based on our nonviolent interactions with other organic team members thus far, we did not anticipate Creator Tali'Zorah's panicked reaction within the medical bay."

Miranda stood up for me: "Commander, I asked Joker and Garrus to warn Tali about Legion ahead of time. They failed to heed my advice. Tali had every right to panic once she discovered a geth with us."

And I stood up for Joker and Garrus: "They really didn't have time to warn me… As soon as I knew you were in the med bay, I rushed over here. I wasn't thinking properly. I was worried about you. Anxious."

All of this seemed to line up with Shepard's understanding of the incident.

Still I worried she would decide to punish me anyway. She had that authority.

"It's fine," she settled. "As long as it doesn't happen again. You and Legion will need to get along."

"Sorry, Shepard," I shared, letting out a breath of relief. "It won't happen again. I promise."

"I believe you." Softening a little bit, Shepard offered her hand to me. "Welcome back to the team, Tali."

Her left hand as well. Just like the first time on the Citadel.

Smiling, I shook her hand. Well-aware of the way she tempered her grip to match mine. Ever so accommodating for me. "Thanks, Shepard. I'm really glad to be back with you. I won't let you down."

"Well, I want to put that mind of yours to use. I saved our chief engineer spot for you. Interested?"

Overjoyed, I had to keep from sounding _too_ excited—"Definitely! I'd love to help out. I appreciate it."

"We only have Engineer Daniels working at the moment. I wanted to send you and Legion down with her—chief engineer and power engineer. Think you can handle Legion as a coworker and a teammate?"

"Yes, I can live with it. I want to make an effort for the team."

"All right, then," said Shepard. She gave me a small smile. "Thanks, Tali."

Miranda let me know, "We've created an extra space in the crew's quarters for senior officers. There's a clean room for you if you'd like to claim it. I've already arranged for all the appropriate amenities there."

"Sure, that sounds great. Thank you, Miranda."

I still wanted to ask…

Shepard noticed—"Something else on your mind?"

"Well, we're docked at the _Rayya_ on the Flotilla. I wanted to invite you aboard. Show you around. You would of course be an honored guest of the Fleet. The quarian admirals would all like to meet you…"

Including my father.

Shepard caught that meaning.

"We can do that," she responded. "I only need about an hour to debrief with the Illusive Man and get ready to head out. I'll come find you afterward."

"Okay," I accepted. Nerves fluttering in all. "I'll wait for you." Out of curiosity, I looked to Miranda. Testing things: "Did you want to join us? I'm sure the admirals would be happy to meet you as well."

Blinking back her surprise, Miranda said, "I appreciate the offer. That won't be necessary. This should be time for you and Shepard to spend together. You haven't seen each other properly in a long while."

I caught her meaning, too.

Shepard skipped right over those implications, transitioning her attention over to Jack now.

"We already had our introductions with everyone else on _Purgatory._ They know you. And we know who you are. I assume you'd rather not make a big deal out of this."

Furtive, Jack confirmed, "You assumed right."

Shepard also assumed, "Then you and I can chalk up our encounter to a misunderstanding. Can't we?"

"Yeah, sure… We can. I wasn't trying to charge at you like that."

As Jack waited for a response, she dug her fingertips into her folded arms. Pulling a bit.

In solidarity, Shepard offered her hand. "Welcome to the team, Jack."

Untangling her taut fold, Jack only extended her hand in the same directions. Cautious. Uncertain. Tattoos marking—one letter on each of her five fingers, translating to the word _death._

Shepard took Jack's hand in hers. Gripping just a little harder than she received in return—as a message.

Frowning in defeat, Jack seemed to understand that subtle assertion of power.

"Thanks," she muttered anyway. Avoiding eye contact.

"I don't have a formal work assignment for you. I mainly want you to chill out. Find wherever you want to be on the ship. I only want you to use the VR training programs we have down in the cargo hold. Use them to work on your biotic control and stamina. Aside from another biotic we'll pick up later on, you're the strongest on the team in terms of raw power. We can't have you burning out like you did before."

Defensive, Jack questioned her, "What do you _mean,_ like I did before? You know something I don't?"

"The Blue Suns captured you in the first place after you burned out fighting against someone else. You thought it would be a good idea to blow up some other Cerberus facility. The assassins you faced didn't make that easy for you. You tired yourself out, then the mercs found you and took you to _Purgatory."_

"Okay…maybe that did happen. So what?"

"It shouldn't happen again," decided Shepard. "Work on your stamina. That's an order. Am I clear?"

"Yeah, fine. You're the boss. I'll play the games when I get a chance."

Not liking Jack's sarcasm, Shepard said nothing in response.

Not liking Shepard's silence, Jack closed back into herself. Seeming self-conscious. Vulnerable. Lonely.

And so, assuming that the conversation was over, she tried to leave the room. A rookie mistake.

Shepard objected, "Jack, I didn't dismiss anyone yet."

Snapping to anger—covering her embarrassment—Jack retorted, "Hey, I'm not in the fucking military! I don't know what that means. I don't care! I'll leave when I wanna leave. You got a problem with that?"

Everyone else in the room braced themselves for the worst.

Even Miranda shifted a bit as she stood next to me. Anxious over how this might turn out.

Jack seemed to read the room. But on the outside, she stayed defiant. Not wanting to show weakness.

Shepard went up to her.

Stature prevailing, confidence brimming—she embodied a sense of control that Jack never could.

That discrepancy between them widened and widened as Shepard stared her down. All Shepard had to do was give that look—that single look warning Jack not to cross her. Reminding Jack with her presence that she could have easily sniped her down during the last mission. Reminding Jack that she could do a lot more than that, if she so decided. This was her ship. Her rules. As ever, her word was law.

Jack stared up at her in a soft surprise.

Reverential, in a way.

As if she realized something very important in that moment. Finding true _meaning_ in Shepard's warning.

And then Shepard left the room on her own. Leaving the rest of us to exhale in relief.

After a peculiar moment passed, everyone except for Jack and Miranda filed outside. I figured the two of them remained behind to speak—for Miranda to continue laying down that law for Jack to remember.

I decided to go with Joker and Garrus to the bridge. We all sat at the helm together, just to talk for a while—until Shepard was ready to leave back to the _Rayya_ with me. Anything to not have to face Legion quite yet down in Engineering. And as a way to vent about that whole exchange; for us to speculate what had gone through Shepard's mind while she'd stared Jack down like that. We were of course careful to keep our conversation limited, as we knew the rest of the crew listened closely to us.

All over again, I felt the need to speak to Shepard about Cerberus. Alone.

* * *

_From: Lawson, Miranda – Normandy Onboarding._

_Tali,_

_This is my formal email welcoming you back to the Normandy._

_Commander Shepard has now added you to the crew manifest as our chief engineer. Your responsibilities of course include any and all operations and maintenance of the Normandy's drive core, as well as other engineering equipment throughout the ship. You will also be in charge of supervising our other engineering officers—Gabriella Daniels as our propulsion engineer, and Legion as our power engineer. I would encourage you to maintain close working relationships with Garrus Vakarian as our gunnery officer, Flight Lieutenant Jeff Moreau as our pilot, and EDI as the Normandy's artificial intelligence. You are free to begin your duties at any point upon returning from your visit to the Flotilla with Shepard._

_As we do not currently have anyone assigned as the Normandy's marine officer, please take note that you are third-in-command aboard the ship, subordinate to me as the executive officer. In the unlikely event that both Commander Shepard and myself are incapacitated or otherwise unavailable, you would assume the role as captain and team leader. I can safely assume that we will be able to fill the marine officer post as we acquire new team members. At that time, you will take the fourth spot as part of our chain of command. For now, I only want you to be aware of these temporary yet vital circumstances._

_As compensation for your work, you will receive biweekly payments from Cerberus commensurate with your capabilities. We have taken into account your aptitude and formal education, your vast experience serving as an engineer aboard the Migrant Fleet, and your time working with Engineer Adams on the original Normandy. Your payments will add up to a total salary of 1,232,000 credits annually. Cerberus appreciates your value; you can expect us to pay you accordingly for your essential work on this mission._

_Day-to-day protocol aboard the SR-2 will be nearly identical to your months on the SR-1. Briefings in the comm room will still begin at 0900 hours before missions, unless there are exceptions due to relevant time constraints. Commander Shepard will trust you to maintain your own schedule and manage the other engineering officers accordingly. Please continue to send her your work reports for evaluation as you did before. However, you should contact me this time for any accommodations you might need._

_That will be all from me. If you have any questions, please let me know. And do be aware that Jack has taken residence in the subdeck below Engineering, down the stairs. I don't believe that she will be a problem. Should you unfortunately discover otherwise, you may handle the situation as you see fit._

_-Miranda_

Sitting in the comfortable leather seat next to Joker, while he kept on talking to Garrus, I stared at Miranda's email long after I'd finished reading it.

I wasn't at all surprised by her professionalism.

Even in her cold directness, Miranda felt far more welcoming than Navigator Pressly had so long ago.

My eyes lingered on that number. My salary. My _insane_ salary for simply working aboard the ship.

This amount of money was much, much more than I'd ever had in my life. Even with my inheritance.

I hadn't had to worry about credits during the last mission. Shepard had paid for all of our weapons, armor, and upgrades with her own money. I figured she would want to continue that from now on.

Compared to the Migrant Fleet—and the Alliance—Cerberus was quite generous with their resources. If anything, I expected Cerberus to pay me less, since I wasn't human. I was almost used to being treated as less-than as a quarian, with too many people assuming we were scavengers, swindlers, and thieves.

I appreciated that Cerberus chose to go the opposite route. But I wondered if this was maybe _too much._

Not to mention I was the temporary third-in-command.

Just the thought alone had my stomach in knots. I couldn't imagine taking over the ship if both Shepard _and_ Miranda weren't available. I could handle managing Engineer Daniels and even Legion for our usual work. Anything more than that would have been too much for me. I didn't trust myself as a leader.

Maybe I would have to pay more attention to Shepard's leadership skills. To learn directly from her.

As I thought that, I spotted her approach along the bridge. Even in her N7 armor, holding her helmet at her side, I still couldn't hear Shepard's footsteps. If I hadn't turned around, I pictured her scaring me with her sudden presence, too much like she used to do back in the old days. Brimming with this nostalgia, I hurried over to her, meeting Shepard halfway—and knowing that the guys watched us.

Glad to see that she'd kept her hair down, I also noticed something new about her.

My olfactory programs picked up on Shepard's scent. She had recently showered—I saw that added glow of moisture over her skin. But this aroma she had now was new. Human cologne… Wooden, masculine. Strong and gentle at the same time, in that deceptive binary, right where she existed. That similarity had me turned on all over again. Limited, I only gave it away in my joy, as I gave to her now:

"Exactly one hour," I noted, beaming up at her. "You're on time as always, Shepard. I'm not surprised."

Shepard hid her own smile away. "Of course, Tali," she replied, so deep. "Did you get Miranda's email?"

"Yes, I did. No complaints this time. She was very thorough in her message to me."

"Good. I already knew we wouldn't have any repeats of last time."

For some reason, even though Shepard _sounded_ the same, she seemed…different.

I couldn't really place what it was. Something about her was a little off.

Maybe she didn't like that Joker and Garrus were so busy staring at us?

I asked her, "Do you think you'll be free for some time? I'd like to give you a tour of the _Rayya._ Though I'm not sure how long it will take us to get around to each of the admirals. They really do like to talk."

Shepard gave me a rather awkward, self-aware grimace as she recited, _"I'm as free as the dust in the solar wind…"_

Was that…from _Fleet and Flotilla?_ She actually watched the vid?!

I laughed brightly. _"Keelah,_ Shepard, I can't believe you… Please don't say you chose to watch that for me!"

"Maybe I did," she said, grinning a bit. She just wanted to make me laugh—and she succeeded.

"Mmm, did you? Well, I'm sorry to tell you that it isn't a favorite of mine anymore. That vid is like an old relic from my past now. I've grown out of that phase. But I still enjoy your cheesy reference anyway."

Happy to make me happy, Shepard only smiled more.

I laughed again over her new mood—how charming she was in her reserved cheesiness.

Most of that awkwardness gone now, Shepard placed her helmet on.

Once she was ready, we made our way to the airlock together. Unable to help it, I held Shepard's arm closest to me with both of mine. Even as Garrus and Joker waved goodbye to us…with a little too much enthusiasm. Joker's double thumbs-up certainly didn't help. They obviously wanted to _encourage me._

As we walked onto the _Rayya,_ Shepard asked, "What was that all about?"

"Nothing, really," I tried. "They're just being silly."

"If you say so."

I knew she didn't believe me.

But Shepard was considerate enough to not interrogate me about it.

Especially now that we had found Captain Danna waiting for us. He stood with his armed security detail near one of the windows, the sight opening up to a much wider view of the Fleet. Brighter lights here inside, colder emotions far outside across the dark: our thousands of ships remained set in unity, shaped as shooting stars tapering out at the end—the large roundness of the nearest liveship among them.

And what a wonder it was to bring Shepard home with me…after dreaming about this for so long.

The captain greeted us with his guards. "Welcome back, Tali'Zorah," he said. "And I see you have brought our esteemed guest of the _Rayya._ It is a great honor to finally meet you, Captain Shepard!"

As the pair shook hands, I was happy to introduce them, "Shepard vas Normandy, this is Captain Kar'Danna vas Rayya. He's been our captain for quite a few years now, since before my Pilgrimage."

Shepard remained stoic with her respect. "Captain. Good to meet you, too."

Captain Danna smiled from behind his mask. "So the tales were true, then," he teased. "Your sternness is one for the ages. I have to admit I'm not used to it from you humans." Then he spotted me still holding onto Shepard's arm. "But that is the beauty of learning more about outsiders, isn't it? You have challenged our views among our own people! Quarian women do not typically hold your attitude."

"I'm not sure what you mean," claimed Shepard. Even though she knew _exactly_ what he meant.

Oblivious, Captain Danna went on, "You must understand, Captain Shepard, that our society is far more conservative than you are used to. For example, quarian women are all but expected to behave a certain way. Not that we take their expertise for granted, should they be called upon to serve in any sorts of leadership roles. After all, two of the five sitting members of the Admiralty Board are women. It is safe to say that one would surely take your personality the wrong way if you were born among the Fleet!"

I felt that indestructible steel with which Shepard locked her lips and brows together behind her helmet.

Danna staggered back. "Err, have I offended? That look you wear, it's—oh, dear…"

"No, no, not at all!" I lied in Shepard's place, whisking her away with me. She allowed me to pull her along. "Cultural differences, Captain Danna! It's nothing to worry about! _Keelah se'lai!"_

Only once we were far away enough—well through to the well-lit trading floor—did I think to stop.

Several of the quarians in the area stared at us together. I heard their curious murmurs, sharing their speculations about us with their neighbors. They had every reason to gossip and speak, as we _were_ on the trading floor: a special area on each ship where people left behind unused items for others to collect freely. Vid screens, sheet coverings, radios, cooking utensils, pieces of art, and various mechanical parts. Still, their wonderings sounded like a single echo of the same sentiment. They noticed the N7 logo over Shepard's armor. They recognized me in my enviro-suit, as it was quite distinct from everyone else's. And they knew us both from our mission against Saren, and what we'd achieved on the Citadel.

I remembered well that there were other rumors floating around about the two of us.

All because of the argument Father and I had gotten into over the matter of my sexuality—and his initial disapproval. His reaction. His rejection of me. That fight had then echoed outward to the entire Fleet.

And now everyone couldn't stop staring at Shepard with me.

She definitely noticed.

"Sorry about Captain Danna," I apologized. Trying to avoid the obvious. "He does his best. Not all quarian men understand this. But there's no getting around it—quarian women are expected to be docile. Non-threatening. It's a wonder the most recent female admiral was able to join the Board at all."

"I know, Tali. I first read about your people a long time ago. _Don't rock the boat_ is basically the motto."

I couldn't help smiling at that. "Yes, well, then you know the reasons why… I'm not saying that it's right. Just that it's how things have always been. Especially on the Flotilla where we all have to play our part."

"I understand," she reassured. "Maybe things will change someday."

"They already have… Sort of. The rest of the progress will take time."

This pressure from so much attention on us had my stomach in knots all over again.

So I had to change the subject—"Right, um, this is the trading floor… It's where we come to pick up any unneeded items that other people have donated from their belongings." Shepard watched as our nosey neighbors picked through the items in the storage lockers around, continuing their conversations. "It's usually much more quiet here. No one likes to make a scene or be greedy. Everyone is still keeping a sense of order, anyway. I'm pretty sure that this is virtually unheard of back on Earth with your people."

"Pretty much," confirmed Shepard. "If a human gets rid of something, it's either going in the trash or up for sale. Sometimes we'll donate to a thrift store instead. We really only give these types of hand-me-downs between family members. Blood-related."

"Of course, it's different for us. We don't have a lot of room in our homes. Usually. I couldn't fathom the idea of selling something I no longer needed. Any quarian would think to give it away to someone else."

Shepard had likely read about this in her studies.

Seeing it for herself seemed to be an entirely new experience—I felt her contemplation, learning more.

I went on, "With that said, we do have a market area. Mostly for purchasing items from other worlds and cultures. All of the proceeds go toward maintaining the Migrant Fleet's many ships. The other admirals promised me they would be in that area today for you to meet them. Let's head over there."

As I walked with Shepard to the freight elevator, we passed by the essential exchange room. Inside the area was the usual desk with a few quarians sitting behind, with a line of about a dozen other quarians. As each person in the line requested what they needed, the quarian at the desk would enter the information into their computer, and then the other employees would bring the items to the requester, bundled within a secure pack for tracking and logging.

"I'm trying to remember an equivalent," I explained. "I suppose you could call this our cafeteria and pharmacy, all-in-one. We use these areas to request essential items, like food and medicine. This is separate from the trading floor, to help each ship keep track of their reserves. We need to make sure that we have enough for everyone."

"So no one ever goes hungry. Or if they get sick, they'll have healthcare. Everyone has a place to live."

"That's right. We provide for every single person in the Fleet. These are all basic dignities, aren't they?"

Shepard went quiet.

Of course I knew how she had grown up—how she'd had to fight for these basic necessities before.

I admired her more for the way she provided for our team. She took care of us with those memories.

We took the freight elevator up to the crew deck. Unfortunately for Shepard, this particular elevator ride was crowded with other quarians. Most of them tried to talk to her, curious as they were to have Commander Shepard—and a human and an outsider—aboard our ship. I was all too happy to speak for her, noticing how grumpy she was over the attention. And I loved that she was grumpy about it—I made sure to hold her arm even closer to me, leaning on her more while I chatted with everyone around us.

Quarians didn't really _mind our own business_ like humans did.

Somehow, our entourage followed us through the crew deck to the markets. But as we all went along, passing by the residential cubicles, I spotted Shepard's reactions. Watching as these small families all lived together in such tight spaces, with hardly any privacy, and with mere sheets for doors—she looked visibly disturbed by my peoples' living situation. Even more so as our audience continued speaking with us—or really only me—as if this was all no big deal. Because to us, it wasn't… For her, it was different.

If she had read the stories of the Migrant Fleet from quarian authors on Pilgrimage, then she also knew:

An Alliance ship of this size would have housed about a hundred people. We had nearly a thousand. Save for criminal exiles, we had our entire population of seventeen million quarians spread out across the Fleet—fifty-thousand ships strong. So we'd had to make the most of what little space was available.

By the time we arrived to the open plaza of the market, our followers bade us goodbye. Shepard was courteous enough to give a curt nod to them as they left. But she otherwise gave her attention to the kiosks around on the tables, and the decently-sized crowd of customers in the shops all around us. They browsed the kiosks filled with tech and omni-tool upgrades, books, model ships, and foreign goods.

Cheery, I asked, "That wasn't so bad, was it?"

Shepard shrugged. "I guess not," she allowed. "By the way, those _houses…"_

"I don't live in one of those. Not anymore, anyway. I used to…for a time. While you were gone."

She gave me one of those worried, disturbed looks. Clearly concerned for me.

Now seemed like the best time to tell her the whole story.

The admirals could wait a little longer.

"Here, let's sit," I suggested, spotting a nearby bench along a wall. Far enough away from the crowds.

Shepard guided us over there, breathing a bit easier once we were alone. Always a gentleman, she let me sit down first, before I pulled her down with me. Stalwart in her care, Shepard sat up straight against the wall, giving me this space to lean on her for comfort and support. And I certainly needed this from her right now. We also had some privacy here at this distance from the actual shops, for people-watching…

"What happened, Tali? How did you end up living in one of those places?"

More cultural differences—Shepard said that as if the usual quarian homes were shameful. But for us, they were all we knew. We couldn't imagine living the way she and other outsiders were so used to.

No imagination. No ambition. No drive.

"Do you remember, back on Freedom's Progress, when I told you that I was in the middle of something for my father? I couldn't join the team right away. A year ago, I had started working on those assignments collecting geth parts for him. Trying to earn his favor. His forgiveness after an argument."

Shepard seemed to know already. She listened to me with her whole heart:

"I'm sure you can imagine why he and I fought. My father found out that I'm gay. I didn't mean to tell him. But until that point, I had been completely dependent on him. Even though I'm a crewmember of the _Neema,_ I stayed home with Father on this ship. I had to…after you and Liara died. I was heartbroken. I didn't know how to take care of myself anymore. It got to the point where I was under near-constant supervision from a doctor. They were afraid that I would choose to end my own life. Word got around somehow. Having everyone judge me like that…it made everything worse. I was trapped in a way."

Then she asked with such a heavy voice, "How did you get through it?"

"That's something else you asked about," I recalled. "In your emails. You would bring up the matter of how I coped after you died. I would never answer you." Of course she remembered. I couldn't tell her about the knowledge Liara had given me. So I gave her the other half of my answer instead: "This is going to sound crazy—and I fully admit it is… But, well…Liara knew that I liked you. She spotted it right away. We would discuss it sometimes. Then, one day, she surprised me when…when she started preserving certain samples from you. Used water bottles. Plates. Utensils. Anything with _you_ on it…"

I feared Shepard's reaction as she began putting the pieces together.

Thankfully, she continued to listen…without judging me at all.

Even though this had to be a real shock to her, deep down.

"I had no idea that she'd done this. I never asked her to. Yet after she died, Liara left behind those samples for me to collect. I kept them for a while. I was unsure what to do with them. By the time I was at my lowest point, I would…expose myself to you. Getting sick that way. Having those allergic reactions. I would do this…as a way to feel close to you again. It wasn't healthy. I know that. Back then, getting sick over you was the only way I'd stop crying—or having anxiety attacks. I could only seem to function while I had a fever, or a sinus infection so bad that my sneezes would gunk up my filters. This is also something that quarians do as a rite of passage. When we decide that we—want to be fully intimate with someone, instead of just linking our suit environments… It's a… _declaration_ of certain feelings _._ You know…"

Shepard knew.

She regarded me with her understanding. And that non-judgment, now more than ever.

I still couldn't look at her. Not yet. Not with my heart pounding. I buried my face against her shoulder.

Maybe I should have waited to tell her this while we were actually alone. Instead of out in the open.

"A-Anyway, my doctor eventually caught me doing this. She recognized that my sample doses were never enough to be lethal, which she figured was a positive sign. Then she told my father. They both recognized my behavior as this rite of passage. At first, Father was very supportive of my decision. I was actually shocked. He admitted that he just wanted answers as to why I was so broken up, since he felt so helpless, watching me go through this. Once he knew that I had these certain feelings for someone, he tried to talk to me about it. Father wanted to know who it was, and if there was anything he could do to get this person to be with me. This went on for a few months, with me never giving him a straight answer—and I mean that literally. I already knew how he would react once I told him the whole truth.

"I'm not entirely sure how to describe the linguistics of this… Now that I think about it, you might have something similar. But in our quarian language, we have a few ways of appropriately distancing ourselves from embarrassing topics of conversation. It is customary to use our equivalent of _they/them_ pronouns when talking about someone whose identity we wish to keep private. And even though it may be frustrating for the person listening, they're supposed to respect our decision in not gendering this mystery identity. So whenever I would talk about you, I would never say your name, or _she,_ or _her._ But Father would constantly say _he_ or _him,_ in a combative sort of way, as if goading me to confirm that you were a man. He refused to respect my decision. I ended up blowing up at him over it one day. I came out of the closet, as you humans say. I said your name. He knew who you were. Yet he still hated me for it."

Somehow, the rest of this was more difficult to discuss than the first part.

Shepard was so gentle when she asked the obvious, "Did he kick you out?"

"He did," I confirmed. "In the heat of the moment, I caught his real problem. Father hated that I had 'disrespected' him. He didn't respect my wishes, or the fact that I'm an adult who can speak for myself. But I also felt a certain toxicity from him. My father always expected me to be obedient to him _because_ I was his daughter, and not his son. That was the main issue, I know. In our culture, it can be a tiny bit awkward to learn that someone is gay…but in the end, no one makes a big deal out of it. He chose to make this a big deal in an effort to make me obey him. It wasn't in his plans for me to be with a woman. I called him out on all of it— _everything._ He wouldn't budge. That's when he told me to get out. So I left to the _Neema_ —my actual home ship—and I didn't look back. Or at least, I didn't plan on looking back…"

"I get what you mean… What happened after you left?"

"Well, the _Neema's_ captain welcomed me back with open arms. Everyone did, even though word had quickly spread about what happened. They all supported me. They thought it was unfair that my father had kicked me out over something like this. I did live in one of those cubicles… Aside from the credits I had earned during my mission with you, I had nothing to my name. But my neighbors were so kind. Always stopping by to check up on me. That's how I met Veetor, the quarian we found on Pilgrimage before. We became good friends. I suppose we bonded over our different struggles with anxiety."

Shepard did remember him. She lightened somewhat, glad that I'd at least had a friend with me. I felt her opinion of our homes beginning to change, too. Knowing that they had given me sanctuary.

She wondered, "Then how'd your situation with your father resolve itself?"

"The rumors," I soured. "People would shame my father wherever he went. They called him stubborn and selfish. Abandoning family members is among the worst things you can do in our society…especially when that family member is clearly not doing well. Plus, he's an admiral, so it's not as if he could have avoided the criticism. I think the shame got to him in the end. Not the guilt over what he'd done. Just the shame of everyone knowing he'd kicked out his daughter over something so trivial. It was his pride."

"I'm guessing he tried to find you after that."

"He did find me. Right at home. Father couldn't stand seeing me live in such a place. Not with all of our privilege. So I agreed to go back with him, but only if he apologized. He gave me his apology. It wasn't exactly complete or sincere. Yet it was _something._ He had clearly sat with this problem and thought about how he'd treated me over the years. We both decided that I would complete those assignments for him. For me, I needed to be productive again. Get back to working with what I love. Helping him was a bonus. Then I found myself needing his real approval. It took some more time, but…he came around."

Shepard also approved. "Well, I'm glad he sorted out his priorities. Even if it did take a while to happen."

"I am, too. I knew all along how much it would take for him to change. I was too afraid to go through all of that, even though it was inevitable. It's over with now. I think he and I have both moved on from it."

I assumed that Shepard would say something else.

Or maybe suggest that we move on from this as well, and continue exploring the _Rayya._

Instead, she moved just enough to give me a hug. Such a strong hug—a loving hug. The exact type of hug I had always needed from her. I couldn't even care that her armor was in the way; that my suit was in the way. Having Shepard on my birth ship like this, embracing me for so many people to see, and validating my every desire for her to be this way with me… She seemed to mend the tears, and the pain from the past two years. And more than that.

I felt myself smiling through these sudden tears anyway. Loving that she was finally here. _Loving her._

Right now, it didn't matter that I could never say the words to her.

I allowed this selfishness for a moment, enjoying the way she cared about me. Nothing else mattered.

Definitely, no matter what, Shepard would always be my big softy. I got to have this privilege of my own.

And the way she settled her hand along the back of my head, as if stroking my hair…I made up my mind:

I would _show her._ I would make an effort, and try, once we were alone later.

Whatever I had overheard of her discussion with Miranda—I wanted to let her know that I was interested.

Re-energized, I stood up, encouraging, "Come on, let's keep going! We have lots more to get through!"

Smiling with me, Shepard stood up as well. "All right, Tali. Lead the way."

I clung to her arm again, leading us through the market. Shepard was happy to be pulled along by me again.

And I thought I saw Admiral Daro'Xen somewhere in the crowd, talking with a few other people.

But then, I got distracted by an advertisement near one of the shops. The kiosk there. The one specifically with foreign goods from Earth, from Shepard's people.

I saw something very… _adorable._

On display was an ad for the types of items they sold at this kiosk.

One in particular made me bring Shepard over to this shop with me. She laughed a little once she saw what this was about. Whatever this was, this plush toy, it had me fascinated. White fur and gray-tipped ears, with such a round shape—I had never seen anything like it before. I wanted to know what it was.

I poked the advertisement. "Shepard, what is this gentle, furry creature with such floppy ears? And why do I want to give it a hug?"

"It's a rabbit, Tali," she told me, sounding amused. "They're prey animals out in the wild. They're also very intelligent. Docile and sweet. And…cute, obviously. Humans like to keep some of them as pets."

"A rabbit…? This word sounds familiar."

Still holding onto Shepard like this, I used my omni-tool to search for more information.

Right away, several results showed up—cute vids, cute pictures, and cute websites with lists of breeds.

It was as she said. These were prey animals in the wild, but kept as domestic pets by humans. _Bunnies!_

I had the strangest feeling. Such a natural affinity with this animal. I wanted to think it sounded like me.

Probably thinking the same, Shepard made a purchase at the kiosk. Then, on the counter, a rabbit plush appeared—the same as the advertisement. Larger than Shepard's free hand as she held it, she gifted the toy to me. I couldn't stop giggling over how soft it was. And its floppy little ears, of course. Just too cute.

"Thank you, Shepard," I said, beaming at her. "This is very sweet of you. I'll need to start a collection!"

"I figured," she replied. Amused again. "I can already see you spending your whole paychecks on these."

"Hmm, maybe I will… But we should _really_ get going this time. Admiral Xen is just over here."

As I brought Shepard over to meet the newest admiral, I had to remember myself. Even while I held this special gift close to my chest, I felt my nerves going haywire, all over the place. Not because of Xen—though her coldness was rather discouraging. But because of what this day so far truly meant to me.

I would forever treasure this toy the way I treasured this experience with my captain.

Approaching Xen with her group, she found the patience to give us her full attention.

"Tali'Zorah," she stated, in that snobbish, superior accent of hers. "I see that you and the commander are enjoying your tour aboard the _Rayya_ thus far. Did you not think I could see you here in the markets? That _toy_ in your arms is proof of your limited attention span—and your utter disregard for my time."

I had to stop from rolling my eyes. "Hello, Admiral. This is—"

"Yes, yes, I know," interrupted Xen. "The famed Alliance hero, Commander Shepard. Savior of the Citadel. Captain of the _Normandy._ And apparently the love of your life." My face heated with embarrassment over her attitude. "Commander, I am Daro'Xen vas Moreh. I am in charge of the Special Projects arm of the Migrant Fleet. Technical research is my greatest expertise. A pleasure to meet you."

Shepard didn't bother offering her hand. "Admiral, I don't appreciate you disrespecting a member of my crew like this. I get that Tali didn't exactly bring me over here ASAP. That's no excuse for your tone."

Taking note of the snub, Xen folded her arms. "I hardly need some human to school me on my own tone. I will speak however I choose. Surely if _I_ had kept you waiting for hours, you would be less than agreeable with me as well? Let's not apply double-standards here. We ought to be plain on the matter."

"If that's the case, then I'll be plain, too. Change your tone when you talk to Tali. Otherwise, I'll have no problem making myself an enemy of the Migrant Fleet by ending you here and now. I fucking mean it."

The group of quarians nearby scattered away, creating a panic that quickly spread through the market.

_Oh, no…_

Xen backed away in a sudden fear, sputtering, "I beg your pardon!?"

Shepard leaned closer in a hostile warning. "You heard me, Admiral," she intimidated. "I don't give a damn _what_ your rank is in this fleet! I'm not letting you get away with talking down to my teammate. I've had it up to here with people like you who think we're all supposed to kiss the ground you walk on! So you either owe her an apology, or you need to shut the hell up and leave! Make up your mind and pick one."

"Why, this is unheard of!" cried Xen. She was _clearly_ unused to anyone challenging her as such. "Commander, have you no decency?! You cannot come aboard our ship, threatening me with violence for merely speaking as I always do! I would expect you to maintain a certain amount of civility and decorum—"

"You're _really_ testing my patience, Xen. _To hell with your civility!"_

Out of breath from running over here, Admiral Shala'Raan placed herself between Xen and Shepard. Arms raised in defense, Raan pushed her normally soothing, calming, motherly voice to one of grave urgency:

"Captain Shepard, please!" she beseeched. "You must stop! You may be an honored guest of the Fleet, yet we cannot abide by such threats to a member of the Admiralty Board… This is highly improper!"

"What _I'm_ doing is improper, but Admiral Xen here is allowed to denigrate my crewmember?"

Raan's eyes widened—this sounded like completely new information to her.

All those panicking people must have failed to mention that part to anyone else…

She immediately turned to Xen. "Admiral, is this true? Have you _again_ resorted to the same with Tali!?"

Unable to defend herself, Xen merely scoffed. Folding her arms tighter around herself as well.

"Xen, you have humiliated us all!" scolded Raan. "How many times have we had this conversation? If it is not Tali you are short with, it is Admiral Han'Gerrel—or a poor civilian who has induced your wrath! I won't abide by your excuses this time. You owe Tali'Zorah an apology for your continued treatment!"

Far too proud to do such a thing, Xen scoffed once more and walked away.

The surrounding crowd gasped in shock. Already, they began spreading gossip over the scandal of it all.

Even more humiliated, Raan bowed to us. "I apologize for the miscommunication," she expressed. "It wasn't wise of me to act without knowing all the facts. I should have known you had chosen to stand up for Tali, Captain Shepard. History suggests you would follow this path." Sighing, she guided us away from the many nosey bystanders around. "I suppose I should have moved us earlier. Admiral Zaal'Koris will not be pleased with me for enflaming an already-public scene. I will have to prepare for his lecture…"

Once we stopped in a hallway, I carried on as normal, "Shepard, this is Admiral Shala'Raan vas Tonbay. She commands the Patrol Fleet, and she oversees navigation, internal security, and intership conflicts and crimes. I told you about her before. She and my father have been friends for quite a long time."

Cordial, Shepard shook her hand. "Admiral."

Raan seemed puzzled. "You are indeed a mystery, Shepard vas Normandy," she observed. "Mere moments ago, you all but risked a diplomatic incident with the Fleet—or worse. Now you are more than stoic in your manners. But I suppose I cannot complain. You had Tali's best interests at heart. Admiral Rael'Zorah is sure to be impressed with your decisions. That is quite the rare honor for anyone to have."

I questioned, "Auntie Raan, do you truly think Father will approve of that scene? You know how he is…"

"He will, child," soothed Raan. "No matter what happened between the two of you in the past, your father wishes to protect you. Rael was never shy about his desires to give you and your mother the homeworld. Ever since I helped your mother bring you to this ship, this was forever your father's most singular concern. I am confident that Rael recognizes Captain Shepard's similar ambitions for you."

Shepard and I had never discussed the quarian politics of going to war with the geth for Rannoch…

I hurried to say, "Um, Raan, I think this is something I can go over with Shepard _later._ Not now… You know how complicated this topic is! Especially for non-quarians…"

Shepard stated, "Tali, I'll help get your homeworld back—if that's what your people decide. I promise."

Well…that was easy.

Raan smiled over the simplicity—and the sight of this bunny in my arms—until we were interrupted:

"There you are!" came a gravelly, tough, militant voice—from none other than Admiral Han'Gerrel. "I heard about all the commotion and decided to come find you myself! That was quite the spectacle!" He took special note of Shepard here with me, and shook her hand with an excited vigor. "Commander Shepard, the honor is mine. Admiral Han'Gerrel vas Neema with the Heavy Fleet, at your service."

Shepard noticed, "You seem pretty happy to meet me, Admiral."

"Of course I am!" boasted Gerrel. "You put that petulant snob Xen in her place—humiliated her in front of the whole ship! She deserved some talking-down-to for once in her life. I'm about sick of her always calling me an _ageing warship_ behind my back. Never to my face, mind you. That's a coward's work, it is."

"It's good to see you again, Admiral," I told him.

Han'Gerrel grinned at me. "Same to you, kid," he replied. "It's a shame you're leaving again so soon. This time to tackle the Collectors, if I remember correctly. If your time saving the Council's any indication, I'm sure you'll all be heroes again. You're Rael's daughter. You've got more great things ahead of you, Tali."

Raan said, "That is—unusually kind of you to share."

"You know me, Shala. Whenever I see a victory, I bask in it! You should try the same! _Keelah se'lai!"_

"I am not certain if that is the best idea…"

Proving her point, Admiral Zaal'Koris stormed down the hall in our direction, more than agitated. He had thrown aside his usual uptight, stately poise in favor of his anger, his displeasure, and his disapproval:

"Admiral Raan, this is unacceptable!" he chastised. "Airing out a petty dispute for the masses to witness and gossip over—have you no shame?! Why, everyone aboard the _Rayya_ is handing out the details of your mistakes like the pages of a tabloid newspaper! You ought to know better. The Admiralty Board cannot be seen having such a public disagreement! We are supposed to be united as one! Or we at least need to give off the appearance as such... Quite frankly, you and Xen have ruined that perception!"

Admiral Gerrel shot back at him, "That's enough, you old weakling! Shala handled the situation as best as she could! It's Xen you need to blame for starting the fight in the first place. _She_ should know better than to go around disrespecting Rael's girl—especially in front of Commander Shepard of all people!"

While the admirals ironically continued their bickering, I whispered to Shepard, "This is Admiral Zaal'Koris vas Qwib-Qwib. He is in charge of the Civilian Fleet and the liveships, which make up the bulk of the Flotilla. In a normal setting, I would warn you against asking about his ship-name. But, seeing as he is too busy yelling at Raan and Gerrel, I don't think that will be an issue. They're really going at it…"

"Maybe this is our cue to leave," she suggested.

"Maybe you're right," I agreed, pulling her along with me. "Let's go back to my place. Father should still be there waiting for us. I'm sure he's heard all about the drama by now… Word travels fast on this ship."

"You nervous about him meeting me?"

I let out an uncertain laugh. "Is it that obvious?"

"A little, yeah."

"Well, _you know…_ The two of you have similar personalities. I can only hope you won't end up clashing."

* * *

Arriving back home—to my childhood home, rather—I let the cold of this homely steel bite through to me. This moment, I had spent so long dreaming about. Dreaming of one day bringing Shepard home to meet my father, for them to speak, and perhaps get along with one another. After the confrontation with Xen at the markets, I wasn't entirely sure how this would go. After all, I saw so much of my father in Shepard, beyond just their similar personalities. I understood the psychology of it; the strangeness of it; and the desperation of mine, in the way I had fallen for this woman so completely, overwhelming me so.

Yet my father had remained authoritarian with me in ways that Shepard had never allowed.

She had never let me see that side of her. Yet I knew she had it in her—with a side of sadism.

I wanted everything that Shepard held back.

I wanted Shepard to include me in her sex life.

After I had spent most of my life trying to live up to him, I wanted Shepard to have my father's approval.

In such an unholy way, Father seemed to feel this energy radiating from me. The whole triage of it. He stood up from the table where he'd continued to sit at this whole time, finding Shepard and me. I brought her over to him. Still holding onto her in the same ways. Still holding onto the gift she had bought for me, feeling the way my father scrutinized this foreign object I cradled so close to my heart. I knew he saw me practically doing the same with Shepard—as foreign as she was to him—yet he didn't quite sour at the sight of her. Not as I'd expected. Even as he felt how small I was with her, Father took note of Shepard towering over me in height and in power. In beauty and in influence. In everything, _all._

Taller than him, Shepard didn't quite look down at my father.

Shorter than her, Father didn't quite look up at my captain.

I let them have this moment: sizing one another up in this silence. Making up their minds about this.

"Father, this is Commander Shepard," I said at last. "Shepard vas Normandy, this is my father, Chief Admiral Rael'Zorah. He oversees the Board as a whole. Anything they decide on has to go through him."

Shepard knew to not offer her hand at this time. "I've heard a lot about you, Sir."

"As have I about you," replied Father. Curt and cordial. Tones mirrored. "From the moment I learned you'd returned from the dead, I knew this day would come. You are a constant presence in my daughter's life. Whether I like it or not."

_Oh, no, not again…_

Yet Shepard remained neutral. "Admiral, if there's something you need to say to me, then say it."

Father narrowed his eyes. "Is that so?" he challenged. "Well, then, Shepard vas Normandy, I will be fully honest with you. When Tali was younger, I did not envision her being with a woman. Certainly not a human woman. Or _any_ human, whom she cannot have biological children with. I expected the man I had in mind to have the utmost qualifications. The most exceptional of accomplishments. The picture of excellence in organic form. Standing before me now, with all you have achieved in this galaxy, you have met my expectations with ease. Except I have had to grapple with the fact…that my daughter is gay."

I'd never heard him say those last words out loud.

And I'd thought that I never, ever would.

"Why does this bother you so much, Sir?" asked Shepard. Diplomatic. "If I understand correctly, this isn't too much of a problem in quarian culture. It's the same with mine. But you're clearly upset about this."

"Because I have had to rearrange all of my plans for my little girl. This isn't what I had prepared for."

"With all due respect, Admiral, this shouldn't be about you. This should be about Tali. You know that."

Father fell silent. Actually thinking about her words.

He listened to her in ways he had never done for me. Maybe he did respect her authority, her influence.

Shepard wasn't just _any_ woman. And he knew that. By now, he had to see why I felt this way about her.

Father asserted, "Then let me be clear. I don't give a damn about that Cerberus woman of yours. If you're going to be the man in Tali's life, then you will treat her appropriately. I expect you to provide for her. Care for her. She is your crewmember, but she is also dependent on you. I'm well-aware of this. Tali was a wreck after you died. Now that you're back, I see how you've reignited the fire in her heart. So I need your promise that you will protect her."

Heated face and neck, heart pounding over and over again—I hated the way Shepard went quiet.

Not liking this, either, Father said, "Tali, please give Captain Shepard some privacy with me. She and I need to discuss this important matter. Man to man. If you could return to your room for about ten minutes, I would appreciate it. You may come back at that time."

"Yes, Father," I accepted. I took my time untangling my arms from Shepard's hold. "I'll be back, then."

Neither Shepard nor my father said a word as I retreated down the hall.

Even once I made it to my room, I imagined them still staring at each other in silence. Waiting to make sure I hadn't lagged behind to eavesdrop on them. Of course I knew better than that. But I was also tempted, which they also knew. I figured it wasn't worth the risk of getting caught.

While I waited for these ten long minutes to pass, I cleaned up my room with every bit of nervous skittishness I _didn't_ want to feel. I folded those sleeping mats that Joker and Garrus had used, and put them away. I found that picture of Liara and me—the one showing my face—and I turned it around. This wasn't how I planned on letting Shepard _see me_ for the first time. Not through a picture. And definitely not a picture with her ex in it. I wasn't sure how Shepard would react to such a thing, and I didn't want to find out. But it really didn't help that I could barely keep my hands still as I did all of this. _Trembling._

Finally, it began to sink in that Shepard was here. Speaking to my father in the other room. _About me._

I couldn't believe that Father had chosen to be so forward. That obvious. Why would he do that?

He had all but ordered Shepard to forget all about Miranda…which I didn't want her to do. Not at all.

I understood the risks of Miranda repeating the past with me. We couldn't afford to do this. We didn't have the freedom for that type of rivalry. I couldn't call Shepard my own, and it wasn't my place to change that. I just hoped she would give me a chance to explain all of this and move forward with her.

During this final minute, I looked around the small space of my room one last time. Making sure that everything was neat and orderly—as it always was. I smiled at my bunny now sitting on another shelf above my bed. I wanted to bring it with me to the _Normandy_ once it was time to return.

But right now, those ten minutes were up.

I technically had permission to go back to the sitting room.

I took the smallest steps down the hall. Making my way back without announcing my presence.

And I was glad that I did this. Because by the time I returned, I found the most unexpected sight waiting for me. Father had his head bowed, his hand over his mask, as if to cover his shame, his raw emotions; while Shepard stood near to him in a supportive stance. They did seem to be aware that I was here. Yet they continued speaking as if I was not. They simply carried on as if nothing had changed whatsoever:

"Captain Shepard, you move me," said Father, pained. "I will work harder to give my daughter the homeworld. This is all I can do. It is all I have ever been able to do. This wall over my heart was the reason why I focused on my ambitions. But I also see how it has separated me from my little girl. And then there was you… _You,_ coming along to take my place. The one woman whose qualifications and accomplishments I could never scrutinize, never question or reject. _That_ is what ailed me so."

"Admiral, it's time to let that go," insisted Shepard, even in her sympathies. "Your daughter can make her own choices. She's not a little girl anymore. I get that you'll always think of her that way. I only wish you would start treating her like an adult. After everything that happened, Tali deserves this from you."

Father conceded, "You are correct. I regret that it's taken me this long to understand. But you are right." He set the last of his pride aside, offering his hand. "Thank you for showing me the truth."

Shepard shook my father's hand, matching his firm grip. "I'm glad we had the chance to clear this up."

"As am I. You are an exceptional diplomat. It is no wonder my daughter feels this strongly for you. I would entrust her to no other."

Father then noticed me shuffling closer.

He…actually _smiled_ at me.

I felt myself tearing up as I smiled back at him. And again, more so once he came over to give me a hug.

My father had _never_ shown me this type of affection before. He'd spent years pretending as if he didn't understand why I needed it; why I would cry and complain over his coldness, over the way he would refuse to even smile at me at all, let alone embrace me. So it was clear now that he'd had an epiphany.

If anyone could have given me this moment, it was Shepard—and no other.

Father pulled away, still smiling. "Tali, there is much I need to tell you," he said. "Though I believe it can wait—for now. It is my turn to give you your privacy with Captain Shepard. I should be on my way. Your run-in with Admiral Xen was not lost upon me. I approve. But the other admirals have called a meeting."

"Of course, Father," I accepted, with such relief. "Thank you for understanding. It means so much."

"Thank you for being patient with me. Or not-so-patient. One day, we will make up for lost time."

Father kept that same positivity as he gave Shepard a nod of approval.

She returned that nod, stoic in her strength. Earning even more of my father's appreciation.

And then, Father left the house. Leaving the door locked behind him. Leaving us alone at last.

Now that we finally had this solitude, I didn't know what to say. I wasn't sure what I _could_ say.

Shepard noticed the lone couch in the room. "Tali, did you want to sit down first? We should talk."

"Yes, we should," I agreed. "Let's have a seat together."

Even though this couch wasn't very big, the distance I kept between us seemed so much wider. I sat on one end, while Shepard stayed on the other. We both leaned against the armrests behind us. Facing forward, we stared at one another. I wanted to know what was on Shepard's mind, just as she wanted to know what was on mine. Yet we'd had no need to question this. We both already knew the answers.

The details of her talk with my father—that wasn't the most important matter between us. In fact, I was more comfortable with not knowing those details. Somehow, it felt too personal for me to get involved.

This was about something else. A different sort of talk:

 _This talk_ had been over two years in the making. Two whole years of anguish, loss, and renewed hope…

Shepard knew—"So, back in the day…when I found you down in Engineering, and I gave you that gift for your Pilgrimage, we had a conversation. I offered for us to have a another talk. In private. For you to tell me how you feel. You were pretty adamant about not doing it because of Liara and Ashley at the time."

"Yes, and now you have Miranda."

"You still seem a lot more open to having this talk, though."

I sighed, remembering: "Listen, I honestly feel like you spared me before—when we first discussed this, and you didn't push the issue. Your exes are both dead… So it would be best for you to spare me again. Differently this time. But after everything that's happened, I'm not sure what to say. There are no words to describe how I want you."

Shepard didn't know what to say, either.

Perhaps she hadn't expected me to be this forward. I'd surprised myself with this, after all.

Even if I hadn't overheard her conversation with Miranda earlier, I might have still said the same things:

"I'll try to find _some_ words," I promised. "As for how I feel about you…I would say it's unconditional. I need to be around you, Shepard. It doesn't matter what we're doing. If you never said anything about how you feel, I wouldn't mind at all. I would prefer that you—take action, like you've done all day today. The way you warned the team to treat me with respect. The way you didn't punish me for putting those bullet holes in the med bay. How you bought me that bunny to make me smile. How you stood up to Xen for me, and my father, right to his face. You made him re-evaluate his parenting skills in just ten minutes, when I'd spent my whole life screaming into the void, to make him listen. You are ruthless, but I know you will always treat me with kindness. It makes me feel special. More than you can imagine."

Shepard struggled to look at me properly.

Something of what I said had gotten to her.

"What is it?" I asked.

"Just when I'm about to close myself off…I feel you opening me back up again."

I wasn't sure why she would do that. "Tell me what's on your mind. Please, Shepard."

"You've been with me since the beginning, Tali. I don't want to hurt you. You're all I have left…"

"Then hold on to me."

It really was that simple. But Shepard wouldn't let herself admit as much.

So I took the initiative—I stood up, walked over to her, and sat down on her lap. Not just right next to her. Not just closer to her. Directly on her like this, encouraging Shepard to hold me in place. And she did. I could see this look of surprise from behind her helmet. Yet she didn't push me away or tell me to stop. As much as her armor was in the way, as my suit was, I needed to be closer to her like this. I didn't like this hardness of her gloves on me, but I needed her touch anyway. I needed her strong arms around my back, and around my waist, exactly as she did now.

Whatever look I gave her with my eyes, it was enough to keep catching her off-guard. Over and over again. And it made things more difficult as she tried to speak; as she tried to ask me:

"Are you sure about this…?"

"Yes, I am," I promised. "Why wouldn't I be? Or is Miranda not interested in an arrangement for us?"

"She is interested—that's not the issue. What I mean is…don't you want to hold out for—a _real relationship_ with someone else? Instead of settling for second-best to her."

I didn't mean to sound so cynical as I laughed. "Shepard, let's just say I have a few screws loose. I already told you why that is. It's not ideal for a normal relationship. At this point in my life, I value my freedom too much. But I do need you. I've done my research into your lifestyle. And I want to live that with you. I'm not going anywhere, either. Unless you're turning me down. _Again._ So what will it be?"

"I'm not turning you down, Tali," she said, giving me such a relief. Emboldening me, too. "I really am surprised, that's all. I didn't know what to expect from this talk of ours. I guess, for now, it would help if you gave me some more background. What else changed with you? You do seem different than before."

"This must feel like a fast-forward in time. You're not used to me being so—forward. Pun intended."

"Yeah, something like that. I'm not complaining. I like this about you. I'm having a hard time adjusting, that's all."

"I understand. Sorry. Let me rewind, then… Being back here reminds me of how I used to be. Before I met you, I always had a lot of friends. But I also felt like I had to wear a mask around everyone. On top of the one I already wear with my suit. After a while, I saw the flaws in how communal my people are. Everyone expected me to conform to what was acceptable. Linking suit environments for intimacy, or risking a serious illness just to have regular sex with someone—that was all I had to look forward to. I wanted more than that. I was scared. Yet I wanted more. _You_ are the answer I was afraid to face."

Shepard remembered, "Does this have anything to do with how you used to be afraid of me?"

"Yes," I breathed. "It wasn't just about your anger. Or your scowl. Or your attitude. At first, I was caught up with not wanting to displease you in any way. But then I reasoned with myself, wondering why that was so important to me. I realized that I wanted to be obedient to you. This grew into something more. Eventually. Mostly with wanting you to please me as a reward for my obedience. And then, this began to twist into yet another dynamic. The one I spent all this time longing for. While I missed you."

"So, the day we first talked about this—were you still scared? Is that why you didn't really put up a fight? Aside from what I had going on with Ash and Liara."

"I was terrified. You heard it in my voice. You saw me. I couldn't look at you. It was because of this."

"Then how'd you deal with it?"

I reminisced: "Before that day? I would use my nerve stim programs every night in bed. Thinking about you finding me in my room, frightening me all over again. When I learned how strong you are when handling a woman in bed, this added another layer. I would fantasize about you giving me that strength—for hours on-end. More than I could handle. More than what should have been allowed."

This sudden, dark smolder in Shepard's eyes nearly burned me alive…in the best way possible.

How wonderful it was to see the proof of my clairvoyant knowledge, shaping itself right in front of me.

She gave me the same feeling with her voice, "You want it rough. Is that it?"

"I want you to push my limits, Shepard. I want you to give me what you're holding back."

The moment I felt her body lock up—holding herself back, absolutely—I found my magic over her.

"And after that day," she said. "After we had that initial talk. How'd you deal with this from then on?"

"I did my research," was all I said. Convincingly coy.

Shepard controlled herself more from my coyness. "Into my lifestyle, like you mentioned."

"Right."

"What did you find out, then?"

I could only riddle, "Since you plan on making Miranda your queen, then I expect to be your princess."

Shepard recognized the obvious. I knew to use this language with her. I truly had done my research.

Even back before Ilos, I'd known. During that conversation. I had used this same analogy that night.

I only needed a little more. A bit more to show Shepard that I was serious about this—and that she had nothing to worry about. So I held her helmet in my hands. Wishing that this was her face instead, shaped in her full attention on me: completely beautiful, completely captivating. I gave her my complete truth:

"Shepard, I know that this might not last forever. Whatever happens will happen. I accept it. Yet I already lost you once. I want to live in the moment with you from now on. Like I should have done before."

Fully in this moment, Shepard had at last opened her eyes to this possibility for us.

No longer did she live with those blinders on.

She, too, finally saw me as an adult. A grown woman at last.

"You should know as well," I told her. "I will need to have a conversation with Miranda at some point, about this. Not immediately. I have to think about it first. But right now, I'd like to give you an invitation. If you're interested…then I can give you a little preview of me. What I look like. To help you make sure that I'm exactly what you want." I felt this smile on my face growing, just from her showing how she couldn't resist this girlishness about me—grown and all. "We could go to my room. Spend some time together. _Without_ having sex. Maybe something a little close to it… Either way, you don't have to worry about my immune system. I've completely adapted to you now. No matter what we do, I won't get sick anymore."

"Then what do you want? Tell me."

"Mmm, that depends on you, Shepard. Whatever you decide, you should at least take some antibiotics. I'm assuming you have plenty stocked in your omni-tool. Take them, and then take me to my room. Or don't. It's up to you. I'll go along with what you're comfortable with. But I do want you to please me…"

Like controlling the beast myself, I found a taste of my own power:

Like _magic,_ I watched that orange glow of Shepard's omni-tool activating around her body. Her meds, her antibiotics began to kick in. And that was her permission for us to do what I wanted. Or close to it.

Closer still, Shepard slipped one of her arms beneath the bends of my legs, and kept her other supporting me around my back. She then stood up and carried me down the hall with ease. So much ease: she nearly had me swaying back and forth in her hold, in how free I felt in her arms. Intuitive as ever as well, Shepard knew that the nearest bedroom was not mine. It was my father's. The one farther down the hall was mine. And the door unlocked as the system sensed my presence, letting us both in.

As the door locked behind us, Shepard went straight to my bed.

Cascading as water, her flowing movements stayed fluid as she set me down against my pillows. She settled herself between me without touching. Just close enough to lounge over me, her long legs bent and her fists pressed against my bed to prop her up. Being this close to her, in my own bed where I'd spent so long missing her, pining after her—I couldn't even think to hesitate, to stop myself at all.

I reached up and removed Shepard's helmet first. Setting it out of the way. And I was about to touch her hair—until I did hesitate. I stopped myself. I paused.

Accepting my consideration, Shepard nodded. Giving me her next permission that way.

I ran my hands through her hair. Eternally soft, straight, and shimmering. So gorgeous, just as she was. I felt my hands shaking from the meaning of this moment. This change. This progression, from existing in Shepard's periphery, on the fringes of her desires—to this new place, this new way she beheld me. The way she looked at me with these depths, admiring how I admired her: I wanted to live in this moment forever. I wanted to, even though I knew I couldn't. _Living in the moment_ was simply a way for me to take advantage of the precious time we had together. Alone like this, for now. So I pushed this more:

I pulled off some more of Shepard's armor—her breastplate, her armguards, her gloves. I wanted them out of the way. I wanted to see her like this, with the tight material of her under armor, all-black over her torso and sleeved down her arms. She had her hands pressed over my bed now. Controlling herself.

And I pulled the mask from my face, setting my hood down.

Letting her see me at long last.

Unobstructed.

Finally, I could see the full spectrum of Shepard's sunlight. Her skin, her hair, and her eyes— _her eyes_ that had widened so much in this beautiful shock. She made me smile with how speechless she was. She couldn't even breathe. Yet I breathed her in freely: this masculine scent about her, with her cologne, attracting me more. I held Shepard's face in my hands. Holding her reaction in my hands; reminding her to breathe by my touch. As this payoff of my insanities over the years, I could inhale her exhales with no risk whatsoever. I could taste this tasteless flavor of her breaths, shaped exactly as her lips, parted in this anticipation for me.

When I spoke, it was such a pure sound. No filters anymore—"You look surprised, Shepard. Are you?"

This heated glow in her eyes reflected the brights of mine. "Tali…you're vibrant. Beautiful."

"Thank you—so are you," I whispered. "I've spent so long wondering what this would feel like. I need to feel you—I need your skin against mine. I've been completely starved for touch like this. And I know you're not necessarily big on physical affection… But I still want— _I_ _need_ _you_ to kiss me."

True command I felt in Shepard's palm holding my face, skin-on-skin.

This length of her fingers, and the elegance in their shape, mixed with the veiled energy she held back: she could have moved me any which way she wanted, and I would have gone with her movements. But it was the sheer suppleness of her skin against mine that got to me. The slight suction of her palm pressing right against my face, locking her to me. The vague heat building up behind her touch, as if her hand had started sweating with her nerves, and I just couldn't notice that nuance. Not with this sensory overload from her otherwise-normal feel on me.

Overloading, more, her eyes loaded into mine such a weighted story of emotion, heavy with time and gravity. Pulling me in as much as she she did, easing me farther down over my bed. Controlling me with her constant touch, reliable and true. Glittering as gold as her eyes did, shadowing more as she leaned over me, I saw the way she treasured me. How she made me feel special and rare and brand new—one of a kind.

Shepard shaped that same feeling over me through touch, again, giving it to me with her lips.

Overcome by her tastelessness, full and pressing and in-control, I heard the echoes of my own surprise shaped into her mouth. Easing into me, more, she pulled me right out of my mind. Weightless presence pressing down on me, with her touch, her body, everything—I lost my own senses, replaced with hers.

Replaced with her perception of me.

Replaced with what she thought of me.

Replaced with what she felt for me—the power of Shepard's mental prowess, changing my reality.

Shepard changed the entire landscape of my own imagination. All of those days and nights I'd spent fantasizing about this, shifted and shaped with the truth of how she felt. And how she actually made me feel…like someone else, someplace else. Still drifting among the stars in this endless space—but this time with her setting me off like this. Steering me with the way she held my back. Defining me with the way she controlled my body.

Never too heavy-handed.

Never too much.

Just right. Perfectly right. Right as I wanted, needed her to be. Like no one else ever could have done.

But in the middle of this bliss, I sensed the underlying reasons behind Shepard's mood today.

Something about these reasons worried me.

Pressing my hands to Shepard's shoulders, I put just enough pressure against her. Enough to stop her.

Genuinely into me, she took a moment to find my eyes again, whole in her responsiveness.

Once she spotted this concern about me, she used her fingers to comb her hair back and out of our way; giving me her full attention.

"Tali? What's the matter…?"

"I should be asking you that," I insisted. "There's something bothering you. I can see it. What's wrong?"

Caught off-guard, Shepard wouldn't say anything at first.

I embodied the contradiction of needing to be as one with her, and needing my own personal freedom.

Somehow, I had found the perfect balance through her own perfection: she saw it in my eyes, how entranced I was by her, and yet still…concerned. Still in-tune with her. Still able to sense her emotions.

Far more now that I knew the echo of her pulse reverberating through her breaths, and the taste of it.

Shepard's contemplation echoed through her in a similar way. I watched it pulse outward, strumming and thrumming as waves. Forever locked on the same wavelength, she couldn't escape the obvious.

I held her face in my hands, encouraging, "Whatever it is, you can tell me. I want you to be honest."

"…it's about Miranda."

"Okay. What about her?"

Heartbreaking, Shepard's expression fell into true agony. "I think she's keeping something from me."

Such a difficult time she had, looking me in the eye.

Something in her spirit had fallen.

I pulled her closer, having her lie down over me. Shepard let herself relax; let me stroke her hair, keeping her head over my chest. As tall as she was, her legs had extended well past the edge of my bed. But she seemed comfortable enough, deflating the rest of her pride in my hold. I felt that deflation each time she breathed against my neck, finally relying on me like this. She seemed to feel at home with me.

Gentle, I asked, "What do you feel she's keeping from you? When did this start?"

"Earlier today," she murmured. "When I woke up in the med bay, Miranda was there. She was pissed at me for trying to protect her…but I understood her pain. I didn't blame her. I felt like we would be fine once she had some time to cool off. Then, once she left, I felt a change. I don't know how to describe it. But she proved me right, just before the meeting we had with the team. That's when she suddenly told me she was fine with this arrangement between you and me. I still knew better than to argue with her."

Now that I thought about it, Shepard had sounded strangely passive about this whole thing…

I pretended as if I had no idea—"Was Miranda not fine with this before?"

"She completely shot it down. We had a couple of conversations about how possessive she is, too. Then all of a sudden, she's saying it's okay for me to act on my feelings for you. It doesn't make any sense."

"What do you think the explanation could be? Is she _really_ angry with you? Trying to push you away?"

"No…I think it's the opposite," said Shepard, sounding as if the truth arrived with her words: "She's trying to hold on to me. She's convinced that you had some kind of plans to seduce me, even though you wouldn't do that unless I gave you a sign first. Or maybe you'd influence me away from her, because of Cerberus. Someone planted the idea in her head. The illusion."

I understood: "Was this from the Illusive Man? He and Miranda must think I'll turn you against them."

Shepard gripped my sheets in helplessness, frustration. "He's manipulating her. Right in front of my eyes…"

That did make the most sense, but… "How do you know for certain?"

Shepard then told me the story—the confidentiality the Illusive Man had shared with her. About how he had spent all these years manipulating Miranda in other ways: downplaying Cerberus' evil ways. Insisting that any such cases, like Jack's torturous past, were merely from groups that had gone rogue. And so, at some point, the Illusive Man planned on showing Miranda the truth. Liberating her that way.

Until then, Shepard couldn't say a word. Yet even still, what _could_ she possibly say? She knew on instinct that Miranda would merely deny any such allegations about Cerberus' true nature. Unfortunately, it was the same with this. The two of them couldn't have a real conversation without risking a horrible argument.

Very much the opposite of Shepard's time with Ashley, with the two of them arguing terribly at times.

Here was Shepard avoiding arguments altogether. Even as she recognized that Miranda was the victim.

The only thing she could do was wait. Waiting for that mythical moment. Waiting for change to arrive.

I could see that Miranda was worth it. This woman, more than anyone, was absolutely worth the wait.

But in the meantime, Shepard had clipped her own wings. She didn't have the freedom to be honest.

Constricting her own voice, I feared that Shepard would suffocate under the weight of her devotion.

So I asked the obvious question, "How does it make you feel? Really."

Shepard allowed herself to hold me tighter. Her voice nearly broke, breaking me: "This is _killing me…"_

The moment I felt her eyes leaking through to my enviro-suit, _I knew._

I knew that Miranda was the one—and I wanted her to be.

I forced myself to smile past Shepard's clear heartbreak in this moment. "You adore her. Don't you?"

Shepard muttered against me, "I more-than-adore her, Tali…"

"Then the solution is clear. Everything will reveal itself once Miranda sees Cerberus for what it is. Then, the two of you can have a real talk. Do you believe you can be patient until that day comes?"

"Yeah, I can… It's also reminding me that I have something else to tell you. Something of a secret."

"What kind of secret?" I wondered.

"I'm not ready to tell you yet," she anguished. "I need some more time first. Then I'll share it. I promise."

"And I promise to wait. It's okay."

Something about Shepard's silence told me that this _wasn't_ okay. Yet she had to tell me anyway.

Hoping to continue with the previous subject, I gave her my honesty: "Well, about Cerberus. The truth is, I don't trust them. You know I don't. What they pulled with the _Idenna_ here in the Migrant Fleet is unforgivable. I'm choosing to make _some_ exceptions for the mission—and because they brought you back to me. But other than that, I will have to hold my tongue on the ship and around the team."

"I understand, Tali… Thank you. I appreciate you sticking by me, despite everything."

Despite everything, indeed, I felt entirely fulfilled by the way she leaned on me for support now.

Yet I still had to speak my mind—"Maybe you feel the same way about this… Miranda is going to make a mistake. There will come a time when she has to choose between her loyalty to Cerberus, and her loyalty to you. Depending on how the Illusive Man goes about things, she won't even realize she's making such a critical choice. It will be a huge test. And her decision will end up being the wrong one."

Shepard sighed against me. "You're right," she agreed. "I'm just going to have to let her do it. If we can't survive this, then we have no chance against the Reapers. I have to be realistic about this situation."

"But it still hurts. Doesn't it?"

"Yeah…it does."

Even so, I couldn't see her choosing any other path.

I only hoped that this wouldn't end up breaking her too badly. I didn't want her to _sacrifice herself_ again. Metaphorically this time.

"What's next, then?" I asked her. "I don't mind playing this role with you, to keep Miranda from asking too many questions—or getting suspicious. You and I shouldn't do anything more until I speak with her about our arrangement. So how will we proceed with the mission from here?"

"Well, Miranda pretty much ordered me to take it easy for a few more days. No combat for a little while. And in my decision to avoid these arguments with her, I've been thinking about the past. I want us to pay our respects to the original _Normandy._ The crash site and the old wreckage is on that same planet, with the snow. We should go pay a visit. Set up a memorial. Spend some time with the ones we've lost."

"Yes, we should…" I glanced at my turned-around picture with Liara on the shelf. "There's someone in particular that you never had the chance to say goodbye to. I suppose it's the same for me. Even though I can't see myself ever forgiving her. That doesn't really matter. Paying our respects is more important."

"We'll head over to Alchera in a couple of days or so. I'll give you and Jack some time to settle in on the ship first. I want us to rest before our next big mission on Horizon. Kaidan's supposed to be there."

Kaidan. The other member of our group that we'd basically excluded, knowing that he wouldn't _listen._

"You know what I'm thinking," said Shepard.

I decided: "We should tell him the truth. Of course, Kaidan will be upset at first… But he deserves to know. I'll talk with Joker, Wrex, and Garrus. See if we can break the story to Kaidan before we find him on Horizon. Maybe that will help you convince him to join the team. You know, get it out of the way."

"We're going to have to do it that way. I'll let you three sort it out before the mission, then. I'll take care of the rest once we find Kaidan again. I owe him that much."

At last, no matter what else went on, I felt at peace with Shepard, with what we had. We could speak about these private, sensitive topics, knowing what to share and what to keep secret. Unspoken, we had our agreement. Our arrangement. Our understanding that we had our sanctuary together, safe from the storm outside. That constant storm of secrets and lies and manipulations that Shepard could not, would not face head-on for the first time in her life.

I truly believed that her patience would pay off—just as mine had, if not more.


	36. In Memoriam

**XXXVI.** In Memoriam

_(Miranda)_

Constant worrying got in the way of my attempts to get any work done.

I sat at my desk in an emotional slump, barely holding myself up physically. Sitting up straight, keeping my pride—the same action, the same sentiment. But this rigidness about me couldn't edge away what went on in my head and in my heart. Chronic worrying, worrying, and worrying was my worst enemy.

This enemy of mine kept me company while the _Normandy_ was on its way to our next destination:

The crash site of its predecessor on the snowy planet Alchera. And the one place where I could go to remember my other enemy, now dead—along with the crewmembers lost during the Collector attack.

This recollection of the past had supersized my concerns in the present. Making them all worse.

At first, I wanted to worry that Shepard would have second-thoughts about us. With this latest chance for her to remember her exes, I jumped to the automatic conclusion that she would begin pining after them. After all, who wouldn't have? Anyone would've fallen into despair over the past, remembering those loves, and what could have been. Yet I had to keep reminding myself that Shepard wasn't _just_ anyone. She had given me her word that she'd moved on. She had given me solid reasons as to why she'd left the past in the past. This visit to the crash site seemed to be more for Joker, Garrus, Tali, and Dr. Chakwas than anything else. Not for her personal sorrows and recollections. So I'd set that aside.

I'd had a productive few hours of work by then.

But I'd disrupted my productivity by making a mistake. The terrible mistake of checking around the ship via the surveillance feeds. And I'd found a small group of the team eating and socializing together in the mess hall: Tali, Garrus, Joker, and Mordin only. Zaeed and Legion had elected not to join them. Jack was still busy brooding down in her section of the Engineering subdeck. And as our strong and solitary leader, Shepard would never be seen socializing like this on the ship—not unless it was a spur-of-the-moment thing. So it was just these four dining at once, laughing in an easy comfort with one another.

They were still together at this moment, having long-since finished their meals. Garrus, Tali, and Joker currently listened to Mordin regale them with a few tales of his storied time with the Salarian Special Tasks Group. Wide-eyed and eager to learn more about how the salarians handled their espionage work, they listened and chimed in with joy and glee. At home in comfort, they practically owned the mess hall.

I continued to watch them.

So insecure, hating myself, I continued to listen to their entertainment.

I continued to fixate on Tali—on how different she was compared to me.

How outgoing she was. How easily she got along with others. How simple it was for her to laugh.

Even once the conversation took a somber turn to the original _Normandy,_ Tali never lost track of what to say. She never became too caught-up in her image, worrying how others would perceive her. She never compromised her personality for the sake of saving face. Genuinely so, she was always herself.

And everyone liked her _because_ of her authenticity. Even Zaeed had a grudging respect toward her.

I had to stop comparing myself to her. Because if this kept up, I'd start worrying about too much else. I knew for a fact that Shepard hadn't invited Tali to her cabin or anything of the sort. By watching these feeds, I'd been able to keep track: at most, Shepard would find Tali in passing somewhere on the ship. They would exchange smiles, and perhaps talk for a bit, before Shepard retreated back to her room to continue resting. They didn't at all seem as if they were on track to run off together—leaving me behind.

Over these past few days since we'd left the Migrant Fleet, I'd had too much time to myself. Time to assume the worst, all because Shepard wasn't here. She'd stayed alone in her room, resting without me.

Yet all this time, I'd continued to worry that Shepard would see something in Tali that I didn't have—

That she would grow bored of me.

That she would decide she couldn't trust me.

That she wouldn't find me as beautiful or remarkable anymore.

Not nearly as perfect anymore, despite my best efforts in concealment.

And that she would change her mind, and in fact dislike me _because_ I was unlikable.

No…it didn't look like that was going to happen.

Shepard honestly intended on keeping her word to me. All of her words. Every single one of them.

I hoped she had taken in my words as well, in the letter I'd written in response to hers.

My black and white thinking wasn't doing me any favors. I needed to keep my own peace.

The realization helped to disperse my nerves, somewhat. Just to make sure, I searched for Shepard throughout the ship with these cameras. I soon found her down on the engineering deck, fluttering my worries a bit, until I remembered that Tali was still busy chatting with the others in the mess hall. So she wasn't the reason behind Shepard's visit to this particular area. Instead, Shepard was on her way down the steps, leading to the subdeck. Down below to that dark, red-lit area where Jack resided, all alone.

Yet Shepard stopped mid-step, the combat boots of her Alliance fatigues making no noise in her pause.

As if sensing my eyes on her, she waited in her conscious questioning.

She couldn't possibly know that I had access to these cameras. For all I knew, she wasn't aware of these surveillance feeds at all. They were primarily for the Illusive Man or myself. No one else.

Nevertheless, Shepard's instincts pricked at her anyway. Picking up on my nosiness.

After a moment of wondering, she continued onward, descending down the rest of the stairs.

I shook off this odd sense that she sensed _me,_ remembering:

I had sent Jack those files about her family. Apparently, her mother and father had divorced some time ago due to the strain on their marriage after such loss. They still communicated on occasion to discuss their scant findings on Jack's whereabouts. The only substantive clue they'd been able to track down was one of Jack's online pseudonyms—Jacqueline Nought, as a clever switching and merging of her alias, Subject Zero, and her name. But they had nothing solid as to where she actually was these days. I wasn't even sure if they knew of her criminal background, or the time she'd spent at the Teltin facility.

Jack had also joined the team chat. She hadn't said a word so far. But everyone seemed glad to have her around. I had a feeling she'd at least read their kind messages, even if she didn't quite trust them yet.

Shepard made it downstairs to the den-like space of the subdeck. She found Jack sitting on the bed lined against the wall, near the calming hum of the machinery. Her omni-tool interface open, her studied eyes trained on the files I'd sent her, Jack almost didn't notice her visitor standing nearby. Only on the off-chance did she spot our captain in her periphery. Somewhat startled, Jack tried to play it off, yet she wouldn't look at Shepard directly. No, there was some sort of hesitation about her for some reason.

To-the-point, Shepard stated, _"EDI said you wanted to talk to me. Something on your mind?"_

Jack stared off at a random corner of the room. _"Yeah. Maybe. You look like you don't wanna be here."_

_"Still getting used to some things."_

Embarrassed, Jack rubbed at her biceps, her shoulders. Her tattoos.

Shepard folded her own arms, adding, _"It's going to take time. That's all."_

 _"Look, I'm not like that, okay?"_ claimed Jack, sounding guilty enough. _"I don't even know why I joined the stupid cult in the first place! It's just what I did back then. I jumped around all over the place. Wherever, whenever. I wasn't thinking about the actual shit they believed in. I never cared about any of it."_

_"They gave you somewhere to belong."_

Jack looked as if she hadn't considered such a thing. _"I guess they did… They were the first group of people that didn't treat me like I was some cheap thrill. They cared…but it wasn't real. I knew it wasn't."_

_"And how do you feel now that you're on this team? Is anything different? Or is it the same as before?"_

_"It's…different. Real different. Everyone's actually—welcoming? I can't believe Cerberus is paying me to be on this team. I'll have my own credits that didn't come from selling some shit I stole. I keep thinking it's a dream. Like I'll wake up and they're gonna screw me over somehow. I'll go back to what I knew."_

_"That's not going to happen,"_ insisted Shepard. _"The team wants you here. You're important to them."_

Jack frowned in disbelief, asking, _"Why? How am I important? Or is it only because of how strong I am?"_

_"They know you're used to the worst. This is their chance to show you otherwise. Prove you wrong."_

_"Are you part of that, too? You seriously care about me, Shepard?"_

Put on the spot all of a sudden, Shepard said nothing.

Cynical, Jack snorted. _"Right. Guess I shouldn't have asked that. You don't care about anyone—except your girlfriend. What the hell do I matter? It's not like you could have let me die back on that prison ship last week. Or shot me down. Sniped me, ended it all. Except you didn't. So what does it say about you?"_

_"I ordered my team to bring you back alive. I made sure they succeeded. That's what it says about me."_

_"What kind of answer is that?!"_ demanded Jack, bolting to her feet. _"I'm trying to have an actual conversation with you, Shepard! You ever think that's why I told you to come down here? Because I wanted to talk to you, maybe? Because you're the one who decided if I got to live or die, and I had my life in your hands? Your girlfriend gave me a reason to turn my shit around. I wanted to tell you about it! You know, get your opinion? Your approval? Now you're acting like a total asshole! For no reason!"_

Shepard realized she had clearly hit a nerve. _"Jack, what does it matter if you have my approval or not?"_

_"What do you mean, what does it matter!? It matters, okay? It's a big deal. You're a huge fucking hero, and it's a huge fucking deal! Did you not listen to a word I said? Am I talking to a wall or something?"_

_"I didn't come down here to have some blown-out, emotional argument with you. I'm not in the mood."_

Such raw desperation scratched at Jack's voice— _"Then what are you in the mood for, huh? Go on, tell me! This is your ship. Your rules. Fine. I'll play along! Just…tell me what I have to do. What do I have to do to make you stop looking at me like that…?"_

In any other situation, with anyone else, Shepard would have likely walked away by now.

Though she had made herself more available for these chats with the team, this discomfort remained.

She had a difficult time accepting her _emotional_ importance in Jack's eyes…as I feared she would do with me. And so I held myself back. Even today. Even now as I watched this silence stretch on and on.

The fact remained that Shepard was now the powerful authority figure in Jack's life.

It was up to her whether or not she would accept the role, or discourage Jack from viewing her this way.

Shepard considered for a moment, before asking, _"Have you used the VR training like I ordered you to?"_

_"For controlling my biotics? Yeah, I did what you said. It's a real bitch. Kind of like running a marathon, but killing virtual dudes with my biotics over and over instead. My scores suck ass. I keep getting tired."_

_"I noticed."_

More relaxed now, Jack sat back down on her bed. _"Then why the hell did you ask if you knew already?"_

_"I wanted to see what you would say."_

_"You mean if I'd lie to your face."_

Shepard shrugged. _"Maybe."_

 _"Yeah, okay. You're a real funny-woman, you know that? All that_ dry humor _of yours is making me thirsty."_ Jack waited for Shepard to react to the punchline. She received no such reaction to her silly pun. _"Get it? Your sense of humor is dry. Like I need water. Thirsty? Not the other kind."_ When Shepard only glanced away, Jack threw her hands in the air. _"Oh, come on! I can't even tell corny jokes? You_ still _won't let up? That's how you are? All military, all the time? I call BS. I saw you smiling at Tali earlier!"_

_"I've also known Tali for almost three years. You and I barely met last week."_

_"I thought you were dead for two of those years? How does that count?"_

Shepard refused to give an answer to that.

Dismayed, Jack relented, _"Sorry—that was stupid. We're on our way to the crash site for a reason…"_

Joker made his timely, somber announcement, _"Hey folks, we're almost at Alchera. I've got a note from the commander—if you want to head down to the crash site, suit up and meet her down in the cargo hold in twenty minutes. We'll take the shuttle down planetside. It's cold as heck out there in the snow, so be sure to bundle up."_

Noticing Jack's sudden apprehension, Shepard asked, _"Did you want to join us? Or are you staying?"_

_"I'm invited…? I thought it was just for your old team."_

_"Not at all. Miranda's coming with us, too. You can if you want to."_

_"I mean, I remember seeing the news about it. Took a while for the truth to sink in that you were gone. After everything you pulled off…I don't know. I was kinda down about it. You gave me hope, too."_

_"Then you should come along."_

Self-conscious, Jack looked down at her motorcycle vest, her baggy pants, and combat boots. _"I don't really have any clothes for the cold. No breather mask, either. I won't have anything until I get paid…"_

 _"We can take care of that for you,"_ promised Shepard. _"It won't be a problem."_

_"Okay… Thanks."_

_"Hold on."_

Shepard used her omni-tool to pull up her messaging interface.

And then, in real-time, I watched as she wrote to me in our private chat room:

_[14:11:34] Shepard: Babe, do you know who's coming with us to the Normandy crash site?_

_[14:11:50] Me: Yes, I do. I have confirmation from Tali, Garrus, Joker, and Dr. Chakwas. Everyone else except for Jack has politely declined. They seemed to assume that this is only for the original team._

_[14:12:03] Shepard: I'm down in the Engineering subdeck with Jack now. She agreed to join us. But she doesn't have the right gear for the snow. She pretty much only has the clothes on her back for now._

_[14:12:20] Me: That's fine. I figured Jack might want to come along. I've already purchased a snow jacket, a pair of gloves, and a breather mask in her size. If you want, I can take them to her._

_[14:12:39] Shepard: You should. Thanks for thinking ahead. I'll leave to go get ready once you get here._

_[14:12:53] Me: Of course. But is there any particular reason why you don't want to handle this yourself? I know we didn't exactly have the best introduction to her. Jack seems harmless enough these days._

_[14:13:10] Shepard: She reminds me of Ashley._

_[14:13:23] Me: Do you mean…if things had reached this point with her violence and anger?_

_[14:13:50] Shepard: Yes. Sometimes I hear Ash's voice through her words. It hurts a lot. Especially today._

_[14:14:23] Me: I see what you mean. You don't have to say anything more about it. I only hope you won't take this out on her. Jack looks up to you a great deal. I'd like you to look out for her instead. She needs to rely on you. We all do. Jack's specific needs are just a little bit different than everyone else's. Try to be gentle with her. Without being too obvious, of course. I'm certain her pride would like to say otherwise._

_[14:14:37] Shepard: Yeah, you're right. I'm not that great at this part of the job. I wish I was._

_[14:14:46] Me: Maybe another change in perspective is in order. Will you think this over? For me._

_[14:15:59] Shepard: Yes, babe. I promise I'll think about it._

_[14:16:07] Me: Good. Thank you. I'm on my way to you and Jack now._

I turned the surveillance feed off, and left my desk, heading over to my holo-closet. I retrieved my own breather mask, along with the items that I'd purchased for Jack: a men's bomber jacket, and sturdy winter gloves, both in extra small sizes—and both all-black, to match what she seemed to prefer. This second transparent breather mask was small enough to fit over her mouth and nose. I figured the pants and combat boots she already had would suit the snow just fine. So I took what I had with me, out to the elevator and down to the engineering deck.

The _Normandy_ seemed much quieter than usual today.

As it should have been—considering the occasion.

I found it touching how respectful the rest of the crew were of this time and place.

Heading down the two sets of stairs to the subdeck, I barely heard the sounds of Shepard and Jack speaking together. They sounded decidedly less tense and awkward than before. Discussing the weather, Shepard explained to Jack that it didn't snow in her hometown. Jack sounded fascinated to learn about this trivia, as her own hometown where her mother lived wasn't far from San Diego at all.

Approaching Shepard from behind where she leaned on a nearby table, I did my best not to interrupt her conversation. She heard my heels clicking along this steel flooring nonetheless. As I set everything on the table behind her, Shepard stood at a relaxed sort of attention. Finding me with her eyes. Facing me, as well, while Jack looked on at us in a wide-eyed interest and curiosity. In fact, there was something in Jack's harmless gaze that gave away what she knew. She had likely overheard Shepard with me in the med bay the other morning—arguing, making out, and almost-making-up and all.

Even so, these small details about Shepard changed as she regarded me.

No longer did I sense that same anger and raw mood from her that had made me worry and worry.

There appeared to still be _something_ on her mind. That I couldn't deny. I saw it in her eyes, unknowable.

Yet there was now a constancy for me radiating through her gaze, well past her frustrations. The dark, pervasive atmosphere of blue and red lights dyed her eyes, her skin, and all as pure duality. She looked past whatever else bothered her these days, finding me with this patience instead. This love unspoken.

I couldn't understand the particulars of what went on with her, yet I understood how she made me feel.

Unconditional affections filled Shepard's movements as she kissed the corner of my mouth.

I wasn't sure how or when my face had grown so warm; or even how Shepard had pulled me this close to her by the small of my back, enlarging the emotion of my own gaze on her. I couldn't mind that Jack watched us so closely in this moment. I couldn't care that the Illusive Man probably watched us through his own surveillance feeds. This meaning in Shepard's stare and possessiveness had surpassed all else.

"Shepard…what's this about?"

Inhaling, slowly, as if breathing in the softness of my voice, Shepard murmured, "Nothing. Nothing at all." She stroked my face with her hand, at once tender and decisive. I wasn't sure how, but she seemed to be making up her mind about something now. "Thanks for doing this. I'll see you in a few minutes."

When she left, heading back up the stairs, she took my breath with her. Shepard was a mystery sometimes. Such a wonderful mystery.

Smirking in vagueness, Jack walked over to me.

"Hey, you," she greeted.

"Hello, Jack," I responded. Finding my bearings, I glanced around. "Why did you choose to stay here?"

Jack shrugged. "It's dark, quiet and hard to find. That spells safety to me."

"You don't need to be afraid of us, you know."

"Yeah, I know," she accepted. "Old habits. I'll get it over it." Jack pointed to the clothes sitting on the table. "Those for me?"

"They are," I said, picking up my own breather mask. "Please, take them. They're yours. It's simple enough to program the mask to keep your face heated at the right temperature. You should be fine."

"Thanks…"

While Jack put on her gear, I spotted that small smile on her face. She appeared to enjoy the bundled feeling of wearing this jacket and matching gloves. She also noticed how they fit with her style. I smiled off to the side, glad that she liked everything. There was something about this that I found fulfilling.

Then I remembered: "You know, Jack, you're allowed to ask me for things like this. I may be XO, but that doesn't just mean that I'm Shepard's second-in-command. You can contact me if there's something you require, exactly as I told you in my welcoming email. This is what I'm here for."

Comfortable in her jacket and gloves now, Jack struggled to say, "I get what you mean. This whole thing is still pretty new for me. I told Shepard earlier that I'm basically expecting the worst. Like something'll happen and I'll be back on my own again. I don't want to get too attached. I don't like asking for favors."

"I understand. I only hope that things will improve in time. If there's anything I can do to help you settle in, you're free to let me know. You can email me or send me a private message in the team's chat room. Or simply pay me a visit in my office. It's up to you."

Jack stuffed her hands in her pockets as she sulked, "There _is_ something I wanted to ask, actually…"

"Ask away, then."

"So, I read over that huge report. You know, the one about all the shit that went down before I joined—and two years ago after the Collectors attacked the original ship. The old team went through some serious drama. I have no clue how they made it out of that. There's just one thing that kept jumping out at me. The way you described someone. One of Shepard's exes. The one she killed in the other room upstairs."

Jack was quite perceptive if she'd picked up on this.

"What about her?" I asked.

Such earnestness—"Shepard can barely look at me sometimes… Am I like some blast from the past?"

I had indeed described Ashley as reckless and dangerous. Angry. Unpredictable.

And here was Jack today, worrying that Shepard disliked her for those reminders.

"The two of you aren't entirely similar," I counseled. "You share some traits, yes. But you are your own person. Shepard recognizes this. Just give her some time. She'll come around. None of this is your fault."

"No, I get it. I had to make sure. Thought you might sugarcoat the whole thing. I'm glad you didn't."

"And I'm glad I could answer your concerns. Why don't we head out for now? We shouldn't keep Shepard and the others waiting. If you'd like, we can speak more about this another time."

"Yeah, let's get going."

Breather masks in-hand, we set off for the elevator together.

As we went, Jack glanced at my uniform and asked, "Is that what you're wearing?"

"Yes, it is," I replied. "The cold won't be a problem for me. There's no need to worry."

I wasn't sure if now was the best time to explain Shepard's ability to use her implants with me, for me.

Jack's worries brimmed through her expression anyway. I was glad that she cared, at least.

Down in the cargo hold, we found Shepard already here in her N7 armor. She carried on a light conversation with Dr. Chakwas, also dressed appropriately for the cold. They both said hello to us, waving Jack and me over to the shuttle with them. Even as the _Normandy_ stayed within reach of Alchera's cold, cold chill, this low temperature around us began to filter through to me. Mindful as ever, Shepard held my hand and activated her temperature implants, increasing the heat for both of us.

I felt warmed all over just as Tali, Garrus, and Joker emerged from the elevator together.

The seven of us entered the shuttle together, struggling to make room. Temporary levity: everyone smiled as Shepard settled on having me sit on her lap, saving space that way. But this good mood began to dissipate as we reached the planet's surface—for the first time, for Jack and me, and the second time for everyone else.

And this time, Shepard was alive as that snowy landscape greeted her outside the shuttle's window.

* * *

Complete silence wrapped around us in this cold.

Total reflection surrounded us, refracting overhead as the auroras did, coloring the clear blue skies in those green sheens.

Whole emotions blew through us, billowing with this freezing breeze.

We all stood at the exact spot.

That exact spot where the original team had found Shepard's body in the snow, where Liara had been able to lead them.

All the while, the original _Normandy's_ wreckage remained scattered all across the area, staying in vigil.

None of us said a word for what felt like ages.

I stood by Shepard's side as she stared down at this patch of snow. Like staring at her own grave, she kept such a grave sense of gravity about her. That endless pull, I felt from her gloved hand in mine. She didn't need to physically reach out, or say a word—Shepard held all of us together with her mere presence after we had lost her before. On my other side, Jack no doubt felt the beginnings of real unity with us, sharing in this moment, even if she didn't have any direct memories of what had happened here. She and I only had this indirect knowledge, knowing how Tali and Ashley had broken down in such a shaking mess upon finding Shepard's armored corpse. Burned to black from burning out in the atmosphere, her N7 armor had cracked in those specific places—with only her dog tags able to identify her properly, reliably.

On Shepard's other side, Tali leaned on her. Likely remembering the same, all the same. Shepard held her close, remembering memories that didn't exist for her; sympathizing as much as she could this way. Next to Tali were Garrus, Joker, and Dr. Chakwas, respectively, each of them moored in their quieted emotions. Joker kept folding his cap over his head. Possibly still blaming himself for losing the _Normandy_ back then—and for losing Shepard. Shouldering that shame to this day.

I felt all of them remembering the ones they had lost. Saying goodbye.

For all of Tali's defiance, I knew that she missed both of her friends—Liara and Ashley. Differently.

She and the others probably remembered Kaidan as well. Especially since we would see him again soon.

He should have been here with us. That Shepard had chosen to visit this crash site first spoke of her own worries. I sensed her apprehension, now, as to whether she could convince Kaidan to join us at all. He had no love for Cerberus; he wouldn't approve of me at all. And perhaps Shepard had brought us here to find the strength, the reasons to persuade him with. If not the logical reasons, then the emotional ones. Much of our reality today had been altered by her decision to have Kaidan go through with his treatment, instead of bringing him along to Virmire with the team. That ripple effect of choices and consequences would only continue to bend and arc more, influencing the rest of our future together.

I knew that Tali and the others planned on revealing the truth to Kaidan soon—if not directly after we returned to the ship following this trip. Of course he would be horrified to learn of what Ashley had done, more so than anything else. Horizon would no doubt prove to be a litmus test for Shepard's diplomacy.

After a generous amount of time, Garrus went to retrieve the memorial from the shuttle.

This set piece honoring the original _Normandy_ —Shepard decided to place the figure near the remains of the mess hall. Hanging wires, torn and fractured steels, and tables and chairs askew: they all endured the cold here, the weight of this space. And the ghosts from the team's old times cooking and laughing together.

I wondered exactly why Shepard had chosen this spot.

Perhaps she regretted not spending enough time with everyone here in particular.

She continued to avoid such socializing these days. Yet it was clear that she thought of the possibilities.

While everyone took these final moments to reflect, I remembered my own past:

When I'd heard the news about Shepard's death, I was at my apartment on Illium at the time. I'd tried to deny it. I hadn't been able to accept reality. But then the Illusive Man had sent me an email, confirming that the Collectors had indeed attacked the _Normandy._ They had killed Shepard; taken her from this galaxy far too soon. He'd done his best to give me logic—to assure me that we could bring her back, and that this was only a setback for us. Yet my emotions had kicked in, blinding me to all logic. Blinding _me._

In my blindness, I had turned to alcohol. One glass of bourbon after another. Another and another as I moped around the clinical chill of my apartment. I remembered the constant sounds of my short, thick alcohol glass setting down over the other glass of my coffee table, in my living room downstairs; the louder sounds of my alcohol bottles piling up over that surface. Lighter and lighter the sounds became as I emptied the bottles, drinking and consuming. Numbing the pain while the rest of Illium carried on beyond my wide picture windows, as that landscape of a metropolis: buildings rising higher than my spirits ever could, and traffic racing onward through the skies, soaring past my hopes. Trying to drown away my regrets over having lost Shepard; having lost my chance to ever tell her, or show her how I felt, and how much she meant to me. How I needed her. How I loved her… _to death._

Drinking and drinking that much, to such excess, blacking out—I should have died.

Somewhere, I'd wanted to die—to join her in death, wherever she was.

I hadn't had the strength to go on. To get to work. To actually do what the Illusive Man had tasked me to do, in bringing her back. To this day, I wasn't sure how I had broken out of that misery. Such a mystery.

I had only spent about a week trying to kill myself with alcohol.

And then I'd stopped. In that mysterious way, I'd pulled myself out of it.

I'd forced myself to sober up—before taking the first transport from Illium to Earth. To San Diego.

History had played out from there.

And now I finally felt as if I could let go of the past. I let go of my worrying and wondering about who and what I was. Though it hurt, still, to think of Ashley and Liara, I could move on. I could move forward, certain in the certainty that I had done what was necessary. There was no taking it back. I found my own strength to accept what had happened without blaming myself anymore.

The source of her own mysterious strength, I sensed in full once Shepard guided me back to the shuttle with everyone else. Her own purpose, renewed: she found her own reasons to press onward. Whatever mood had plagued her over the past few days, Shepard chose to set aside. She walked closer to me, stayed closer to me, and _felt_ closer to me, as if her existence had meshed to mine, unobstructed now.

As ever, there was _something_ still troubling her spirit. Yet she chose to live with it instead of ignoring it.

Shepard gave off this same sense as we returned to the ship, and went to the comm room together.

Helmet removed, she called the Illusive Man for our briefing on Horizon over the QEC.

Cigarette smoke misting through this supergiant's light, the Illusive Man observed us from his chair. That eerie blue of his eyes glowed well past the red blare, the gray haze, and the slick chrome of the surfaces all around him. Self-assured in his knowledge and certainty, he had his eyes trained most on Shepard for some reason. Studying her, watching her, the Illusive Man seemed to be searching for something, hidden past her stern severity. Holding her cards close, as was natural, Shepard remained unreadable, even from him. No amount of time or observation would change this. She stayed hidden in plain sight.

Not entirely invisible—Shepard gripped my hand a little tighter in her stiffness. She refused to budge.

Blowing out another cloud of smoke, the Illusive Man set these odd attempts aside, addressing us both:

"Shepard. Miranda. It's good to see you here together. And not a moment too soon. Horizon—our human colony in the Terminus Systems—just went silent. If it isn't under attack, it soon will be. Has Mordin delivered the countermeasure for the seeker swarms?"

Shepard responded, "He's close. Should only be a matter of time now."

"Let's hope he works well under pressure," said the Illusive Man. "We also can't forget about your former teammate, Kaidan Alenko. The Collectors are going after him to get to you. But it can't be avoided. We need to get down to the colony as soon as possible to investigate what the Collectors are up to—before the Alliance can get in our way. Your orders are to get the situation under control."

"Understood, Sir," I replied. "Send us the coordinates and we'll head straight there."

"I expect this will be a good opportunity to learn more about the Collectors, how they operate. If nothing else, Staff Commander Alenko should prove to be a fine asset— _if_ you're able to recruit him during the mission."

"Joker and the others have mentioned the possibility. They plan on telling him the whole truth ahead of time. I'm not sure if it will help or hurt our chances. Either way, he'll know everything that happened."

"It's probably for the best. This should save you some time. I imagine you have a plan, Commander."

"I know how to handle Kaidan," asserted Shepard. "It won't be a problem. He'll join us."

The Illusive Man nodded in approval. "I appreciate your confidence about this," he praised, smoking once more. "In other news, I'll have a possible reward for you sometime after the mission is finished. It will be up to you whether or not you'll put it to use."

"What kind of reward do you mean?" she asked.

"It involves EDI. I noticed that the team seems to have warmed up to the ship's AI—much sooner than I'd anticipated. So, I have something in mind that should continue that process. And for the sake of building your team even more. Depending on your tolerances, this should be a fine surprise. We'll have to see."

"I'll take your word for it."

"I trust that you will. In the meantime, prepare yourselves for Horizon—and for the worst with Alenko's inevitable resistance to the truth. This is the most warning we've ever had with the Collectors. Good luck."

As our surroundings returned to the _Normandy,_ some of Shepard's stiffness left her body.

But I still continued to worry about her.

Shepard did look troubled, and angry, yet not in an obvious way.

I had to ask her, "What's wrong? You've had a lot on your mind lately. Haven't you?"

"There _is_ a lot on my mind, yes."

"Would you…like to talk about it?"

Shepard glanced at the Cerberus logo on my uniform, once, before saying, "Miranda, we have our mission soon. It's important. I don't want us to get distracted before we touch down. Why don't we skip this whole thing instead? I'll get over myself soon enough. I should get back to my room to recharge."

As she made to leave, I called out to her, "Shepard, wait! Don't do this. I've been miserable all this time without you. I've been constantly worrying about every little thing. Your stubborn silence wasn't helping. I thought we weren't supposed to keep things from one another? Whatever happened to that?"

With her back to me, I couldn't read Shepard's reaction at all.

I only had a feeling that none of it was positive or optimistic or good.

Contemplative, she lowered her head. Thinking for a moment.

And then she muttered, "All you need to know is that I'm choosing to be patient. Nothing else matters. I don't want to get into this. Especially not now, not right before Horizon. Please understand."

_Patient for what?_

I knew I had to set my emotions aside. For the sake of the mission. But she made this eternally difficult.

Understanding far more, Shepard returned to me.

She gave me pure patience in her stare. And in her touch as she held me in her arms.

The eternity of this difficulty, she eased somewhat with her lips over mine—the way she swayed me without moving, and soothed me without soothing at all. Shepard at least allowed this much. She gave me this much, even though she had made herself clear. She gave me this exception, this bending of her tolerances in more ways than I could've imagined. So many contradictions she bestowed to me, with how she would have, could have given me anything—yet she withheld the only truth I had demanded to know. Only giving me the abstract, the intangible in this emotion in her full, comforting lips: deepened, adoring.

But when she pulled away, leaving to her room as stated, I didn't feel any sort of abandonment. I didn't feel her ignoring me; setting me aside. How she _wanted_ to take me with her, to carry me away—it was only the mission that limited her. Only the mission that stopped her. Only the mission that restricted Shepard's voice, stopping her from giving me all the answers I needed and more. So I forced my own patience to cooperate. As I had no choice. As I had to follow her orders. As I wanted for her, evermore.

Still, I worried about her.

Something absolutely wasn't right with her spirit.

I couldn't help feeling as if I had made a mistake somehow, and she simply wasn't telling me what it was.

A mistake that should have been terrible enough to break us apart.

Whatever it was, Shepard had decided to stand by me anyway. Yet I knew her. She was in the midst of planning; figuring out a way to move forward with this. Whether she would tell me upfront what the problem was or not, her message was clear. She would continue to choose me before anyone, before anything else. _Everyone and anyone._ That message comforted me as I returned to my own room, even as I continued to fret over her anger, hidden far too well behind her patience for me.


	37. Horizon

_"Horizon" from Mass Effect 2 / "Ninth Chapter Sky, One" from Drakengard_

**XXXVII.** Horizon

_(Shepard)_

Raw, broiling anger had me steaming as I sat at my desk in my private cabin.

Staring at these classified Cerberus files about the Migrant Fleet, I knew what was going on.

I knew what Miranda and the Illusive Man were up to—what they assumed, and what they believed.

I drank from my bottle of water with a clear sense of irony. Iron-hot irony; pissed off to hell and back.

The Illusive Man had sent me these files on the _Idenna_ to give to Tali and her father. He'd sent them to me during a convenient time: when Miranda had miraculously changed her mind about including Tali in our sex life. He'd encouraged me to give these to Admiral Rael'Zorah, to get him to change his mind about Cerberus, and Tali as well…as if that was the real issue here. The Illusive Man was so fucking self-absorbed that he seriously thought Tali's opinion of Cerberus could change. Just a few files and everything would be fine. Just a few details to clear the air, and then she'd no longer be a problem.

I knew that Miranda and the Illusive Man feared that Tali would sway me away from them.

But they'd already done it themselves. They didn't need Tali to do it for them. _This_ was the fracture.

I couldn't point out the obvious, glaring truth to Miranda, because she would blow up at me instead.

I couldn't confront the Illusive Man, because he'd give me some bullshit about how this was necessary.

I couldn't share all of this with Tali, because she was bound to hate me once I confessed the truth to her about Liara anyway.

I couldn't do _anything_ except sit at my desk and fume while the _Normandy_ was on its way to Horizon.

I needed to figure this out. I needed to find a solution. Because I only had about two hours before the next briefing started for the mission; before I needed to focus-up again. I had to come up with a plan.

 _I had to,_ because I couldn't stay in this same stasis from the past few days.

Whenever I wasn't around Miranda, I was pissed off at her. I couldn't stand her. I almost hated her for thinking I was stupid enough to fall for this fucking ruse. I started questioning how much I liked her, and how deep this went. I didn't enjoy seeing this side of Miranda at all: this too-naïve side, this too-trusting side, and this too-shady side, with everything reminding me of how we'd met in the first place. Obviously, she'd spent her entire adult life with Cerberus, sneaking around and staying in the shadows. Lying, manipulating, and following whatever made the most _logical sense_ to guide her actions. If the data showed that she and the Illusive Man could use Tali to keep me around, then they would sure as hell use Tali to keep me around. If Tali's own dossier said that her feelings for me had her compromised, then they would absolutely compromise her—using me as a carrot on a stick, dangling it in front of her.

Then, like earlier today, as soon as I was around Miranda again, or even whenever I messaged her again, I went right back to adoring her. I wanted to touch her, I wanted to kiss her. I wanted to do more than that. Her beauty had me blinded, and her blindness to the real truth had my heart aching for her instead. I didn't want to blame her anymore. I wanted to baby her, and insist that the Illusive Man was just gaslighting her—even though Miranda was a grown woman, and she should have known better than this. Even though we had made our promises to each other about being honest, and she was the one who broke them already.

Every single time I thought about holding Miranda in my arms again, every excuse in the galaxy came pouring out from my very pores. I wanted to shelter her. I wanted to believe that she only had the best of intentions. I wanted to shield her from any accountability whatsoever and just…move on with her.

And yet I would think about the letter she'd written to me: the one in response to what I'd surprised her with before. Before all of this drama had started. In Miranda's own words in this letter—now face-down on my desk—she had again stressed how she only wanted me to herself. No one else in our way. No one getting between us. She didn't want any other woman standing in her way. _Perfectly exclusive._

I couldn't even look at her damn letter without burning up all over again.

I knew that I would cool off, and soften, and melt once I saw her later on… I accepted this. Inevitably so.

But nothing could stop this flow of hatred I now had for the Illusive Man.

Whether it was because he victimized Miranda—or because he thought I was dumb enough for him to manipulate, even though we'd already established otherwise…those reasons were secondary.

Secondary to my jealousy. My envy that he had enough power over her to do this in the first place.

Not that I ever would—but if _anyone_ was going to manipulate Miranda at all, then it should've been me!

Sitting here in front of my terminal, I stared at the model ships I had on display, rising in front of me. The ones from the Migrant Fleet stayed most visible. Past this glass, on the table near my refrigerator, I saw the framed picture I had of Tali and me. Of course, she was happy to play this role with me. But I couldn't let it go on. I didn't want anyone to keep taking advantage of her like this. She didn't deserve it.

I feared that the only way to fix this problem was to shatter Tali's perception of me.

But I couldn't keep going off of my own assumptions.

I needed some more evidence first.

"EDI," I said.

"Yes, Shepard?" she responded.

"Are you able to pull up the logs of our QEC calls with the Illusive Man? Or are you restricted?"

"Due to the nature of my restrictions, I can only retrieve the audio logs for these calls. As with your enhanced surveillance permissions, the Illusive Man and Miranda are unaware that I am able to do this."

I should have thought of this earlier. "Could you send me the one from Miranda's most recent talk with him? From after I woke up in the med bay. Before our meeting with Tali, Jack, and the rest of the team."

"Retrieving it now," complied EDI. I saw the alert to my email. "I have sent you the logs."

"Thanks, EDI. Hold on while I listen to this."

"Standing by."

As I listened to this debriefing between Miranda and the Illusive Man, they confirmed everything for me:

_"Are you concerned about the quarian?"_

_"After so much loss, this is her chance to be fully honest with Shepard. Now is her time to act. Don't you agree?"_

_"Of course, Sir. I'll…take the time to think it over. To prepare."_

_"If she has his approval to have Shepard in any capacity, then this will only embolden her. Doubly so if Joker and Garrus Vakarian are in on this."_

_"And I suppose you should know…that I initially forbade Shepard from getting involved with anyone else. When I made those stipulations, I wasn't thinking about the bigger picture. Or this obvious, glaring problem."_

_"If she can accept being Shepard's second priority, with you as the clear first, the three of you will be just fine."_

_"For now, we need to squash this Cerberus issue with Tali'Zorah."_

_"Perhaps Tali'Zorah's sway over Shepard will act as that backup plan you anguished over before. You were convinced that there was no safety net, should you somehow run afoul of Shepard's needs in the future. Something tells me that this is the answer you were looking for."_

All of that, along with something about Tali's clairvoyance with me—and some other logs of a private conversation between her and Liara.

I remembered now, how back in the day, Tali seemed to know way more about me than she should have. It was a feeling I'd had. A feeling she'd given off. She still gave me the same feeling today. Like she knew _everything_ about me—

Had Liara…told Tali how I felt?

Without my permission.

 _Everything_ —including my hidden, private thoughts. Every single intimate, embarrassing detail.

And now Miranda knew that Tali knew.

And now Miranda assumed that Tali was a threat—even though she wasn't.

I knew it was true—because I remembered. I fucking remembered my birthday on Thessia, when we'd gone to that mall. Liara and Tali had been following me that night. Acting strangely. Clearly busy talking about me. _This_ was what they'd talked about. _This_ was why they'd acted so out-of-character with me!

…

Gripping my fists in front of my steaming face was all I could do to keep from _screaming._

EDI actually sounded worried about me: "Shepard? Are you all right?"

"I'm fine, EDI," I grunted, not even thinking about how I sounded. "I'm fine."

"I may not be able to see you directly. However, I can sense your diagnostics. Your stress levels have spiked exponentially, and you are currently experiencing a large build-up of heated moisture behind your eyes. You are…crying. Perhaps out of frustration over the logs I shared with you. I feel responsible."

I didn't even realize it until she said the words—this hot stream of tears streamed down my clenched knuckles, as transparent anger over the white-hot bones beneath my skin.

"It isn't your fault, EDI," I promised, sniffling now. "I had a feeling about this for a while. You proved that I was right. I needed to know. Even though it hurts…I had to know the truth. _Not knowing_ was worse."

"It is preferable then to know the full truth? Despite whatever pain it may bring. You still wish to know?"

"After everything that happened in the past—yeah. I'd rather know…sooner instead of later. It's better to see the full picture this way. I can make plans and take action instead of just reacting down the line."

EDI considered this for a moment. "I see," she said, enlightened. "Then may I share another log with you? It is my hope that this will provide more context for Miranda's preoccupation with protecting you."

Protecting me—or sneaking around behind my back when she didn't need to.

"Sure. Send it over to me. I might as well know now."

Another alert to my email.

Another painful blow to my emotions…but this time in a different way.

This was from that night. That night when I had killed Ashley. That night when Miranda had been terrified of me—when she'd called the Illusive Man after confessing everything to me in her office. I had left her alone; she had gone to him for comfort. For a debriefing. For a distant comfort from her so-called father.

_"How did it go?"_

The Illusive Man's cordial desire for an update.

And Miranda's sniffling. Her fears. Her quieted crying, constricted.

_"I know what you're afraid of. You're scared that you'll mess up somehow. That Shepard won't show any mercy, should you cross her. But you already know that won't come to pass. It's frankly impossible. And you already know why that is."_

He was right.

As much as I despised him…the Illusive Man had it right.

Because if this was anyone else, I would have erupted by now. I would have thrown everything in the incinerator and crushed their heart along with it. I would have walked away from what we had. But I couldn't. _I couldn't leave Miranda._ I couldn't, all for one simple reason:

_"No one in this galaxy is more dedicated to her than you are. No one, in all of creation, could hope to make the same sacrifices you have made, and still live to tell the tale. No one loves her more than you do."_

Listening to the rest—and how Miranda couldn't stop crying throughout—I felt my convictions swelling.

I had found her that night after she'd had this talk with him.

I had caught Miranda from falling into the worst of her despair.

No matter how envious I was of the Illusive Man, he couldn't do what I had done for her. This did help to balance things out…maybe. Sort of. For the time being.

I was curious now about what else he had said: the Illusive Man had apparently watched Miranda struggle with her feelings for me. Ever since she'd joined Cerberus all those years ago when she was seventeen or eighteen.

"EDI, are you able to find any other conversations between them? From way back when."

"The Illusive Man has kept extensive audio and video logs of his discussions with Miranda. I may be able to locate ones that are emotionally relevant to your situation. However, if I attempt to retrieve them now, it is possible that I will be detected. I am only able to view the databases where the logs are kept."

"That's okay," I accepted. "Maybe we can find a way around it later. It's not an urgent thing."

"Would you like to share your thoughts with me? I imagine the truth about Tali is particularly troubling."

"Yeah, it is… I'm keeping a secret of my own from her. All this time, I've felt guilty about it, seeing Tali as this perfectly innocent friend of mine. But she's been lying to me this whole time, too. Ever since my last birthday when I was still alive. She clearly has no intentions of telling me what she knows. Her loyalty to Liara is more important than being honest with me. So that shows me exactly where she stands on this."

EDI wondered, "Is Tali's dishonesty more egregious than Miranda's? They both wish to keep you."

"Logically speaking, no," I replied. "Neither of them have bad intentions. But I don't think you can apply fairness in this situation. Tali is purposely choosing not to tell me the truth. Miranda has the Illusive Man gaslighting her into bending her tolerances, just like he's always done. It's not the same."

"And now that you are armed with more knowledge, what is the root of your feelings on the matter?"

"The root of my feelings…?" Taking a minute, I realized what she meant. "I think, with Tali, I feel—betrayed. This whole time, she's had access to my private thoughts. Things that I'd assumed only Liara knew about. But that wasn't the case. I don't know, I guess it's kind of embarrassing, too. I'm exposed to her now. There's so much in my mind—thoughts and feelings, most of which I'm not even aware of—and she knows about everything. I feel like, if Tali really did love me, then she wouldn't keep something like this from me. Better yet, she wouldn't have asked Liara for the information in the first place…"

More than I could admit to EDI right now, I hated that I hadn't known about all of this.

I regretted even thinking for a second that I could trust Tali the way I had recently.

I regretted my own need to be fully honest with her when she couldn't even do the same for me.

This whole thing made my crush on Tali start to change, burning differently in the heat of my anger.

EDI already knew: "Despite all of this, you still wish to continue your relationship with Miranda?"

"You have the logs, EDI. You know what the Illusive Man told me about this—about her learning the truth about Cerberus. I told Miranda that I would be patient for her. She has no idea what I meant. I meant _this._ I fully intend on keeping my word to her. There's no going back at this point. I can't leave."

"I understand. I suppose I am curious as to your reasoning. They have both committed similar offenses, yet you say it is not the same. They have both lied, yet you only accept the behavior from one person."

For once, I wasn't the one looking at things too logically.

"EDI, listen to me. I know for a fact that this isn't fair. It's not clear-cut. But I've made up my mind. Miranda is the only one I want like this. I'm choosing to make exceptions for her because I want to, not because I feel forced. Yeah, I'm pissed off…but I can see myself setting this aside. She's worth it. I've _never_ felt this way about anyone before. I used to think it was impossible. This feels like a miracle."

"…I see. I believe I can sympathize—on a logical level. You are my captain, Shepard. I value you in the sense that I prioritize your well-being above everyone else aboard the ship. If there ever came a time where I was forced to choose between you and the other crewmembers, I would always choose you. Even if it were more practical or utilitarian not to do so. You lead a solitary existence, rarely sharing your feelings with other organics. It is my hope that you might also view me as an exception. I care for you."

Even though EDI was _just_ an AI, I felt only the truest sincerity in her soothing voice. Disembodied and all.

That sincerity got to me. "Thanks, EDI… You've helped me out a lot. You're like my second pair of eyes on the ship. Without you, I wouldn't be on this path with Miranda at all. You _are_ my friend. Especially now that I'm going to lose one pretty soon. I'm going to have to deal with Tali in the next week or so."

"I am glad to have your friendship, Shepard," she said, almost as if she could have smiled. "How do you plan on proceeding with Tali in the near future? I worry that any sort of confrontation may end badly."

"It's unavoidable. Once things settle down, I'll tell Tali the truth I've been keeping from her. She'll hate me—and she'll probably only want to be on the team as my coworker, not my friend. I'll tell Miranda about her reaction. We'll move on. No more drama."

"You would hurt Tali with the truth in order to preserve your monogamous pursuits with Miranda?"

"Yes, I have to at this point. I'm shutting it down."

On that note, I took another look at these model ships from the Migrant Fleet decorating my space.

I took them off of the display handles.

I brought them with me to the unused drawers at the table by my refrigerator.

I put the ships in the drawers. The _Rayya,_ the _Neema_ —all of them. Away and out of sight.

That picture of Tali and me was also here, sitting on top of this same table. The one I'd framed of us.

I couldn't put it away. I still didn't have the heart to do it. So I just turned the picture around for now.

That so-called arrangement wasn't going to happen. Period.

I remembered clearly that I'd wanted this with Ash, as part of our agreement with our old contract.

But things were different now. Completely different.

It wasn't meant to be.

I left to take a shower, to wash off these sorrows and frustrations. I couldn't let any of this get in the way of the mission. Just as I wouldn't let anything get in between what Miranda and I had together—directly or indirectly, on purpose or otherwise. Fighting for her in the shadows was all I could do for now—with my patience—until we could have a real talk in the light. No matter how long it took. She was absolutely worth it.

* * *

Prepared for anything, I geared up in my stealth suit. Hair slicked back, tied back, flowing down in this long tail trailing down my spine. Shoulders back, attitude set—I made my way to the comm room once it was time for the briefing. As I went, I did find it funny and strange that Miranda made team-wide announcements for these types of things without sending an email out. They all must've had a new chat room together.

Miranda was probably sure I'd figure it out soon. There was no real need for her to tell me herself.

I did enjoy that everyone had a way to vent and bond with each other without me around. It was sweet.

But I let none of that show on my face as I entered the comm room.

Unreadable, stoic—I showed no reaction once everyone quieted down, as I expected them to.

And I saw that everyone was here already: Miranda, Legion, Mordin, Zaeed, Garrus, Jack, and Tali.

Miranda and Legion had resumed their places closest to me, here at the head of the table. From now on, it really was better for Tali to be next to Garrus instead, over there. I was grateful for her mask, too, keeping me from spotting the actual expression on her face. I didn't want to _see her_ right now.

Miranda betrayed next to nothing as she gave me her complete attention. Professional as always.

Only the focus of her stare gave her away—how she wouldn't even blink as she looked on at me.

Her presence by my side, unwavering, gave me the conviction I needed to lead, as I began the briefing:

"We're almost at Horizon. It's a simple farming colony out in the Terminus Systems. The Illusive Man tells us that communications across Horizon have gone dark. It's very likely that the Collectors are abducting the colonists as we speak. We need to get down there and see this with our own eyes; find out anything else we can about their methods and what they're up to. Depending on how this goes, we might be able to stop the Collectors before they abduct the entire colony. Our main objective is to find out more information, one way or another, and chase the Collectors out.

"Another important point involves the Alliance. One of our former teammates, Kaidan Alenko, is stationed out here with the military. The Alliance is supposedly doing outreach with the colonists to improve relations with everyone living in the Terminus Systems. Whatever the case, I'd like us to find Kaidan if we can. I want to bring him back on the team. It's a long-shot, considering he's no friend of Cerberus, plus some other drama involving the old team. But our second objective is to locate him."

Garrus let me know, "Hey, Commander, we were able to tell Kaidan the whole story. He reacted as badly as you'd expect. I'm not sure if he'll come back to the team. It's a long-shot, like you said. Still, we all have history together. If you can talk to him, get through to him somehow, you might change his mind."

"I figured as much," I said. "Kaidan will be upset with us. There's no getting around it. I'll do what I can." I looked to Mordin next. "Do you have that countermeasure ready for us? With the seeker swarms."

"Yes, complete!" replied Mordin. "Already coordinated with Zaeed to upgrade all armor sets with protections. In limited numbers, should confuse detection, make us invisible to swarms. In theory."

"In theory?" questioned Garrus. "That sounds promising."

"Experimental technology. Only test is contact with seeker swarms. Have to test them in-person. Should be exciting."

I continued on, "Horizon is going to be a unique challenge for us all. We haven't encountered the Collectors directly before. Most of our investigation will involve learning and analyzing the enemy for the first time. We'll need to improvise. With that in mind, everyone's coming along for this mission. I have my orders to give out to each of you at this moment. More importantly, I need you to be flexible. Adapt quickly. My orders on the field can change at any time. You need to be prepared for that."

The team each gave me their verbal affirmation, their understanding. Their skills were critical to the success of our mission. But everything hinged on _my_ adaptability. My flexibility, and my analysis. My orders mattered. From the seriousness about the room, I had a feeling that they all knew what the reality was.

"I'll generally stay cloaked and scout around as needed. Miranda, I want you to take point and lead the team through the colony. Analyze the enemy's defenses and weaknesses. We need a full account of what we're up against. Once we have a better idea, I'll be able to tailor my orders more effectively."

Miranda gave me her firm response, "Understood, Commander. I'll prioritize analysis over combat."

"Good. Garrus, Legion—you two hang back and snipe from a distance. Cover the main group's flanks."

"Roger that, Commander," replied Garrus. "Legion and I will stick together."

"Acknowledged," responded Legion.

"Jack, Tali, Zaeed, and Mordin will make up the main group. Follow Miranda; kill everything in sight. Mordin and Zaeed, team up for fire explosions on any armored or unshielded enemies we come across. Jack, you can pick off any stragglers with your biotic charge. And Tali, when it's safe, go ahead and scavenge any Collector materials out in the field. We'll bring them back to them ship later for study."

Jack nodded. "You got it."

"Will do, Shepard," said Tali.

Zaeed cracked his knuckles. "Let's gut the bastards."

Mordin answered, "Yes, of course."

"Head to the armory and gear up with your weapons. Then we'll go to the cargo hold, and take the shuttle down to the colony. It'll be cramped, but we'll just have to deal with it. Let's get in and get this done."

* * *

Pale sunlight blared through the thin, misty clouds overhead. The colony's sky stretched on in a discolored blue, dyed and woolen from the heat and deadness all around. Those same deadened hues had spread to the tall grass, the vegetation, and the trees and leaves all around. Those leaves swayed in the intense winds from the shuttle dropping us off planetside, my team and I getting our boots on the ground as soon as possible. The buzzing bugs from the Collectors' seeker swarms flitted all around, disturbed by the winds, but otherwise choosing to ignore us. Invisible to the swarms, we could move on unhindered.

Like the end-of-days, Horizon looked and felt abandoned.

The Collectors had to have been loading up those human-sized pods with their victims, onto the ship:

Such a gigantic Collector Cruiser loomed overhead, already having landed on the colony: the size of that tall, cylindrical ship rose up as browns and silvers. At the apex of the skies, the top of the cruiser reached the vortex-like swirl of the darker, harsher clouds there. Bolts of lightning raged on from that center point in the sky, foreboding. Yet the colony's farmlands stretched onward in the distance, untouched.

Miranda wasted no time in pressing forward, leading the team ahead. Jack, Tali, Zaeed, and Mordin followed closely behind. Meanwhile, Legion and Garrus stayed back a fair distance, sniper rifles drawn.

While they went on, I cloaked and started scouting around.

I noticed the huge defense guns scattered across the colony. They seemed…out of place. And useless, since they hadn't managed to stop the Collectors from getting here. Did they even work? Probably not.

Miranda led the team into an outdoor compound with plenty of cover around.

As they arrived, I heard the sudden, distinct sounds of more buzzing, and flapping insect wings. Those bipedal bodies, large, vaulted heads, round bright lights for eyes, and thick, layered skin the same color as cockroaches: a large unit of Collectors flew down from somewhere up above, starting the attack, firing their particle rifles.

Staying cloaked, I stopped to watch the team engage the enemy.

Everyone took cover—except for Jack, who charged headlong at a trooper, sending it flying. She kept on.

Mordin and Zaeed burned more troopers alive, bursts of Incinerate and inferno grenades heating up the battlefield. Some of these Collectors had solid defenses keeping them safe from the flames.

Garrus and Legion popped off headshots with ease from their shared perch in the back. But, again, some of their shots failed to make their mark. Those defenses got in their way, forcing them to shoot more. I figured I could snipe through those safeguards easily. I held off for now, not wanting to draw attention.

Tali already had enough cover to safely scavenge materials from the fallen Collector corpses so far.

Miranda communicated via the team's radio, _"Commander, I have an initial analysis. It looks like most of these Collector units have strong kinetic barriers. They're biotic users, but they're choosing to focus their attacks with the particle rifles webbed directly to their skin. We may have to deal with the biotics later."_

"That makes sense," I responded. "It's no wonder Jack's the only one making a dent through their defenses. Miranda, go ahead and use your warp strikes to get rid of those barriers. Everyone else can keep focusing on anything with simple health. Keep analyzing as we go along. I'm moving ahead."

_"Of course. Switching up now."_

I scouted the next area, of what looked like a plaza outside of a housing complex. This simple residential area should have been bustling with colonists—walking up and down the stairs, sitting outside on the tables socializing, or lounging at home. Instead, the place was deserted. Only the trees and plants gave off any life. Too much like Freedom's Progress, everyone had been uprooted from here. I also saw a few of those pods sitting out in the open. I expected Tali to get to them when she could for any scavenging.

As the team moved in, I spotted a huge wave of Collectors incoming—along with a bunch of husks.

The others couldn't see the sheer amount of enemies headed their way.

As everyone fought what was in front of them, I gave the order, "There are heavy reinforcements behind this wave. Conserve energy. Don't burn yourselves out. Jack, that means you, too."

Jack pulled out her shotgun instead. _"You don't want me to use any powers at all?"_

"There are a ton of husks on the way. Use your shockwave for some crowd control on them. Other than that, I want you to hold off for now. Focus on shooting as much as you can."

_"Got it, Shepard."_

Ambitious, Miranda led the charge forward through the housing area. She made quick work of those kinetic barriers with her warp strikes, leaving the others to pick off the exposed troopers. Even though she wasn't anywhere near Jack's raw power level, I trusted her control over her abilities. Her stamina and her knowledge of her own limits arguably made her more useful than Jack's expected rampaging.

I saw that disparity more and more as the team pushed past the reinforcements.

Going ahead to a denser compound, Miranda took cover inside one of the houses. She used her vantage point to rain down constant strikes against the troopers in the courtyard. Cautious, the rest of the team stayed outside, taking cover behind various Collector pods. They almost couldn't keep up with how many enemies Miranda made available for them. Over and over, I saw the repeats of her ambitions: those targeted flashes of dark energy searing forth from her perch. How she aimed her open palm at her targets. How she put her focus, and her _emotion_ into her powers, quickly disintegrating those barriers.

Jack started to feel some competitive pressure. She knew she couldn't keep up by just firing her shotgun over and over. Having to reload after every shot slowed her down. And each time she did have the freedom to send off a shockwave, clacks of skipping force hopscotching across the courtyard, sending Collectors flying, Jack raged harder and harder. She clearly didn't like Miranda showing her up; she hated having to hold back. But she was smart enough to follow my orders. She kept on shooting.

The problem only persisted once everyone headed through to the next area, fighting harder.

While they carried on, I spotted something unusual here by the stairs in the compound. There were two colonists in stasis. Frozen in this not-moving position, with one person trying to help someone up who had fallen. They must've been trying to run away from the Collectors abducting everyone. Only to get trapped like this. I could barely see the life still in their eyes—they weren't dead. Just…stuck like this.

I saw the same story inside another house. Someone else was frozen there, hiding behind cover.

There wasn't anything we could do for them now.

I could only hope this stasis would end once we forced the Collectors the hell out of here.

As this time passed, the skies grew murkier. I spotted the change up above this wider, more open courtyard past all the houses. One of those useless defense guns stared out to the horizon. And I noticed a wide door off to the side, across the courtyard, looking like an entrance to some kind of secure bunker.

We couldn't get there until we dealt with this small army of Collectors in our way.

Right as the team charged into that army, I took note of the change:

Of those Collectors, one looked like it had been possessed—glowing with golden power, it transformed into something much more powerful. Stronger kinetic barriers and tough plates of armor glowed as that gold over the Collector's form. Some deep, menacing voice filtered through the battlefield. Piercing through the barrage of fire explosions, warp strikes, and sniper shots, I heard _someone_ say: "I AM ASSUMING DIRECT CONTROL." That control made this possessed unit fire off biotic strikes at my team, pummeling the main group at once. Only Miranda and Jack could deal with the sudden onslaught.

Zaeed staggered back in pain. _"Where the hell did that come from?!"_

Mordin rushed to take cover. _"Shields failing!"_ he reported. _"Need to apply medi-gel. Unsustainable!"_

Tali also hid next to Mordin. _"It's covering for the rest of them—we can't punch through!"_

Miranda couldn't get a single warp strike in with this constant volley of biotic attacks. Jack could only fire off her shotgun at a few unprotected enemies off to the side. Pinned down, this was all she could do.

Neither Garrus nor Legion's shots could penetrate those defenses. Seeing the rest of the team pinned down, they kept shooting out of desperation. They only wasted their ammo like this.

"That thing's possessed!" I said, readying my sniper rifle. "Everyone, stay down! I'll deal with this."

Aiming, precise, concentration slowing down time: I fired my Widow.

The single shot pierced right through the possessed unit's head. It faded to black, disintegrating.

Garrus praised me, _"Nice work there, Shepard! Quick and easy!"_

Legion explained, _"These Collectors appear to hold remnants of the Old Machines. We have traced and analyzed these remnants. They belong to one named Harbinger."_

"A Reaper called Harbinger?" I questioned, right as it possessed another Collector unit. "Fine, I'll take these out. The rest of you handle everything else."

I was on full-time duty defeating these Harbinger units that kept popping up, back to back, back to back.

As soon as I sniped one down, another trooper got possessed, powering up.

Powering up and pushing back against my team, beating them down with its biotics.

I couldn't hesitate—I fired off my shots as quickly as I could. Even with the sounds of everyone's suffering blaring through our radio. Even worse were the constant sounds of Harbinger announcing the same fucking things—"ASSUMING CONTROL. WE ARE HARBINGER. ASSUMING DIRECT CONTROL"—over and over and over and over again.

Every time it spouted off some shit about, _"This hurts you,"_ while my squad screamed in pain, I had to fight to keep concentrating. Staring up near the sun in the sky, I wished I could _assume direct control_ of Harbinger and send it there—straight into the sun itself. Anything to stop this insanity going on.

The team couldn't take much more of this.

Miranda was all right. Again, she knew herself well enough to keep pushing on, smartly so.

Legion and Garrus seemed okay, having stayed back to avoid the worst of those biotic volleys.

Jack's kinetic barriers held up against the damage, but I sensed her energy reserves dwindling fast. She was bound to tire herself out.

And everyone else…

I felt like I had just sent them off to slaughter.

These Collectors were no joke.

We managed to kill everything in front of us. The reinforcements stopped coming in. So Miranda led everyone over to that bunker, hacking the security on the door. The others limped after her, most of them nearly out of commission. I uncloaked and followed them inside, making sure Zaeed, Mordin, Tali, Legion, Garrus, and Jack got into the chilled, enclosed safety of this space. Masking her worries over everyone's injuries, Miranda was meticulous in locking the bunker back behind us.

Zaeed staggered to the ground, gripping a gaping wound in his side.

Mordin's entire lab coat had coated murky green with his blood; but he kept applying medi-gel anyway.

Tali had multiple suit punctures, and worked to contain them quickly before any infections set in.

Jack had already collapsed and passed out from exhaustion.

Garrus had a few scuffs in his armor. He was able to help Zaeed with the spare medi-gel here on the wall. Legion did the same with Tali, assisting her with her suit and her injuries cutting beneath. I knew if the two of them had been on the frontlines, they would have ended up the same way as everyone else.

Miranda stared at the team with the same dread I felt:

They couldn't go on like this.

Seeing Tali like this especially, knowing she could die if she got an infection…I had to get them back out:

"Joker, come in," I said, hoping he responded. "Ground team to _Normandy,_ do you read me?"

No response.

No signal.

Feeling the weight of this situation, I almost questioned my decisions and orders so far.

Even telling everyone to hold back and play it safe had led them to this state.

I'd had no choice except to put down those Harbinger troopers immediately.

I wondered if I should have spoken up. Addressed my team. Tried to lift their spirits after this setback. Because through their pain, I saw the disappointment in their eyes. They felt like they had failed me; I felt like I had failed them. They couldn't go on like this, yet they still wanted to fight. I felt responsible, as I should have. I felt even worse, watching Tali in so much pain as she sat on the ground. Garrus held her close, talking her through this waiting; reassuring her that everything would be all right.

Miranda couldn't look at me, or anyone else. Whatever had been on her mind lately began to worsen.

Sudden nerves bunched in my stomach the second I tried to speak to everyone, to lift their spirits.

The weight of this near-game over kept me from finding the words I needed. The right words.

Just as I was about to let something stumble out of my mouth, we heard strong knocking on the door.

"Hello!?" called a man's coarse voice on the other side. "Hello, is anyone in there? I saw a bunch of people go in here, and I had to follow you! Please, could you open the door?!"

_That voice…_

Garrus asked, "Is that…?"

It was.

I hurried to unlock the door.

Heavily-armored in his Alliance blue plates, Kaidan staggered inside.

Short of breath, assault rifle drawn, he had lowered his guard, knowing already that we weren't the enemy. Ample sweat dripped down from his forehead, but with the slicked style of his short dark hair still in-tact somehow, miraculously. Before he even saw me, he spotted Tali next to Garrus—the state she was in. He rushed over to her.

"Tali?!" worried Kaidan. "My God, you're hurt! What happened out there?"

Garrus explained, "It was hell, that's what. We can't go on like this."

Kaidan looked around at my team. Even as he fretted over everyone's injuries—especially Tali's—I saw that slow, gradual recognition fill his gaze. Those gentle brown eyes of his that I'd remembered, filled with warmth, began to chill to a frozen state. Frozen anger, freezing more as he noticed Miranda standing alone in a corner of the bunker. That Cerberus logo on her uniform—that colder stare from her, as she analyzed Kaidan, waiting for his next move, as if daring him to make a mistake.

Noticing that icy gale from my queen, Kaidan paused. He'd clearly heard the news about us together.

Staring at me now with his hardened disbelief, Kaidan found the truth of the rest, here in my eyes.

Leaving his concerns for Tali behind, he stood up to face me properly.

I saw Ashley's memory in his stare. His lingering loyalty toward her. His resentments over what I'd done.

"Commander," stated Kaidan. Formal, direct.

"Kaidan," I responded. "How did you get here without getting attacked by those swarms?"

"I got lucky. There was a huge swarm behind me while I ran here. You saved my life by letting me in."

"Did the Collectors attack you, too? Or have you just been on the run?"

Furtive, Kaidan said, "I was off-duty when that huge ship landed. The colonists didn't want me here, anyway. Even if I could've helped, they might not have accepted anything from me. They all hate the Alliance. They don't trust us."

I caught his double-meaning there.

"And those defense towers outside—are those from the Alliance, too?"

"Sure are… High-powered GARDIAN lasers. Supposed to keep hostile ships from landing near the colony. Except they don't work. We haven't been able to get them online."

"We can use them against the Collector ship," I decided. "There should be a way for us to get them working. We just need the location. Can you show us where they are?"

Kaidan pointed in the right direction, explaining, "Head for the transmitter on the other side of the colony. Pretty hard to miss. The targeting controls are at the base." He glanced around at all of my injured teammates again. "You'll have a hell of a time getting over there. Those Collectors are in the way. I bet they'll have their strongest forces protecting the transmitter. You might not make it."

"Then come with us, Kaidan."

Feeling the urgency of the moment, he couldn't put up a fight at a time like this.

"Okay, Commander… The sooner we get that Collector ship out of here, the sooner you can get your people to safety. After that, we should talk. It's long-overdue, I think."

"Agreed."

Mordin had patched himself up enough by now. "Here, protections for seeker swarms," he offered, using his omni-tool to coat Kaidan's armor with the countermeasure. "Will keep you invisible to detection. No stasis, no danger. Should be safe."

"Thanks a lot… I appreciate it."

Satisfied, Mordin went to give medical assistance to those who needed it.

I made up my mind: "Garrus, Legion. You stay here. Stand guard. I'll send the shuttle to come pick you up as soon as I can. Help get everyone to the med bay."

"Understood," said Legion.

Garrus nodded. "No problem."

"Miranda, Kaidan, you're with me. It's up to us to get those defense towers online. Since you're both sentinels, I expect you to have some solid synergy on the field. You two coordinate your plan of attack."

Less chilly, Miranda approached Kaidan directly. "Commander Alenko. I assume you know who I am."

Slightly flustered now, Kaidan fought it back. "Yeah, I got the run-down on everything," he confirmed. "Miranda Lawson, was it? And you're a fellow sentinel. Good to know. The Collectors prefer to stay packed in their groups. It's like they're networked together. We should take advantage of the crowds."

"My thoughts exactly. If you have any direct biotic abilities, I could prime or detonate them with my warp strikes, depending on what's in your arsenal."

"Well, I have my own barriers for some strong damage protection. And I have Reave for even more defense. I'm pretty tanky. If you have Warp, then we could set off our explosions in any order. I hit first or you hit first, it won't matter. Both will go off. Should be powerful enough for some crowd control."

"That sounds perfect," approved Miranda, looking to me. "And we'll of course have our sniper to take out those possessed Collector troops. Would you like us to simply focus on our biotic explosions?"

"Yes, that's the plan," I settled, getting Kaidan on our team's radio frequency. "You and Kaidan take point together. Push forward. I'll follow you. Let's move out."

Kaidan readied his assault rifle. "All set, Commander!"

Miranda prepared her submachine gun as well. "As am I."

Sniper rifle at the ready, I was about to leave the bunker, out to the other side.

But then I heard Tali's small, pained voice, calling out from behind me—"Shepard…"

Pained in-heart, I turned to look at her over my shoulder. Whatever her true expression was behind her mask, I could feel it this time. I sensed it. And it made me regret having to leave her behind. It made me regret too much. Yet I had to finish the mission without her. I had to get her out of here, and back to the ship.

Looking to Garrus instead, he gave me an encouraging nod. Promising without words to take care of her.

Letting that promise mend my regrets, I left with Miranda and Kaidan, determination brimming more.

* * *

Closer to the Collector ship now, the environment had changed.

That swirling vortex overhead had widened in scope, twisting those clouds to a new horizon. Chaos and red, lightning and insanity: power on top of power, that mood permeated the winds. As if the air around us had changed to emergency-red lighting itself, the colony had fallen to a full mayday of panic. As the only ones still outside, able to avoid the swarms that had paralyzed all else, Miranda and Kaidan moved with me as a true response to this apocalypse. We hurried through this last housing compound as quickly as we could, even with the Collectors sending everything they had at us. We had to keep going.

Urgency and anger, emotion and more—Kaidan shot at the enemy in a frantic rage, pushing ahead for Tali's sake. He pushed his biotics as hard as they would go, tag-teaming those biotic explosions. Defenses glowing as violet energy around him, Kaidan's barriers, his heavy armor, and his Reave protections kept him safe from the volleys of those possessed units—and the sniping from the huge, hulking Scions we encountered for the first time, filled with sacs and plates of armor. Enhancing his middle-of-the-road power, Miranda compensated with her stronger abilities. Her shields weren't nearly as robust as Kaidan's multiple damage reduction sources. But she was strategic enough to make up for her lack, taking cover more often than Kaidan had to. The two of them worked together well—and efficiently—controlling the crowds while I sniped down the Scions and Harbinger troopers in our way.

Kaidan was able to take those hits from Harbinger's lackeys before I put them down.

His actual biotics didn't spike as high as they did before with his L3 implants—his Reaves paled in comparison to Miranda's warp strikes—but his beefed-up defenses more than made up for things.

Without a doubt, Kaidan was the missing piece to the rest of our team.

If we'd had his tanking abilities going into Horizon, then the others wouldn't have suffered so much.

_No room for what-ifs._

I'd just have to work that much harder to recruit Kaidan once this was over with.

Hurrying through more abandoned houses, we eventually made it to a large door.

"It's through here," said Kaidan. "The targeting controls are up ahead. Any idea how we'll get them online? Maybe if we had Tali with us, she could handle it no problem."

I worked to bypass the security on the door. "We'll find a way. Let's get over there first."

Glancing at Miranda—her closed-off body language—Kaidan thought against making small-talk with her. Too intimidated to say a word, he instead hovered somewhere off to the side. He was wise enough to sense that Miranda didn't mean to direct this sort of energy at him. Nothing personal.

Considering the state that Horizon was in, this definitely wasn't the time for chit-chat.

But it was good to see that Kaidan felt more comfortable with Miranda now. Their battle synergy had helped a lot.

Security bypassed, the door opened to the next area:

Down this set of stairs and beyond the grass, the terminal and targeting controls awaited. Those defense guns sat unused, flanking either side of the area. Too open, this place hardly had any defensive positions. Just a bunch of crates, vehicles, and other stairs leading to more empty buildings. The skies bled darkest up above, with the Collector ship within striking distance from here. Trees swaying in the winds, and an unusual, unsettling quiet permeating the whole landscape—I felt that the worst was yet to come.

I led Miranda and Kaidan over to the controls with this mood.

Kaidan noticed, "What a strange feeling. It's like the Collectors are waiting for us to make a move."

Miranda saw the same. "I expected reinforcements. They must be mobilizing for their next attack."

"Whenever they get here, keep moving," I said. "Don't let them pin you down. There's not a lot of cover."

"Yeah, no kidding," fretted Kaidan. "Let's keep our guard up. Anything could happen."

At the controls, I hacked the computer to get it going. Then I tried contacting Joker again:

 _"Normandy?_ Do you copy?"

 _"Joker here,"_ he replied. _"Signal's weak, Commander, but we got you."_

"EDI—can you get the colony's defense towers online?"

_"Errors in the calibration software are easily rectified, but it will take time to bring the towers to full power. I recommend a defensive posture. I will not be able to mask the increased generator output."_

Kaidan noted, "The Collectors are probably going to send their guns in."

 _"Kaidan?!"_ sputtered Joker. _"Dude, is that you?"_

"Yeah, it's me, Joker… I'm here helping Miranda and the commander. Maybe temporarily. Who knows."

We didn't have the luxury of getting into the details.

I explained, "Joker, we had to leave most of the team behind. They're injured. Coordinate with Garrus and Legion and send a shuttle to their location for evac. The others need immediate medical treatment."

_"Shuttle away, Commander. We'll get them out of there ASAP!"_

EDI warned us, _"Enemy reinforcements are closing in. I suggest you ready weapons."_

Hearing those loud buzzing sounds of the Collectors' wings descending, I ordered, "Survive until the towers are back online. Don't worry about me. I'll stay cloaked and cover your flanks. Stay together!"

"Aye, aye, Commander!" acknowledged Kaidan, running ahead already.

"Affirmative!" said Miranda, staying right by him.

Swarming the scene, the Collectors closed in on every spot of free space surrounding the tower.

Before I could even hide, a bunch of husks tried to rush at me. I ran off and activated my cloak. Completely unintelligent, the husks lost track of me right away. They stopped, turned around, and went to harass Miranda and Kaidan instead. Not needing to break my cloak to shoot, I sniped the husks one by one. I kept this up, picking off anyone who might've gotten too close to what was left of my team.

Harbinger was surprisingly scarce with those possessed troopers. I got rid of the few that popped up.

Invisible as I was, I could stay in mild cover using one of the vehicles lying around.

Miranda and Kaidan stayed in my sights.

They drew everything's attention as I needed.

Free from interruptions in their immediate area, they synergized better, and smarter as time went on.

Keeping their backs together, they pushed against the tide of Collectors overrunning the area. Near-constant biotics flaring, raging, they scaled up the strength of their timed explosions. Blasts ricocheting across the land, their blues and violets glowed on, ethereal against the red skies hemorrhaging everywhere around us, above us. I used those lights as my guide, tracking their blind spots; taking down spare Scions who had an open shot at them; punching through lines of husks intent on grabbing them.

EDI kept us updated on her progress: _"Bypassing failsafes and attempting emergency power-up. Please hold the defense tower."_

Thunderous sounds and a cacophony of buzzing and clicking noises, loudening and loudening from overhead: that lightning grew more and more sporadic, more dangerous. Amassing in size, more Collectors swarmed the field, their sights set automatically on Kaidan and Miranda protecting the tower—protecting each other. Somewhere from the mind and spirit of that amassment, Harbinger's booming voice sounded. Speaking to me directly, by name. Mocking me for my efforts at protecting my team.

Mocking me, even, for believing that Miranda could _protect me_ from the Reapers themselves.

Focusing harder, I shot at every single Collector trying to close in on my team's ranks.

Shooting quicker, as quickly as I could reload and fire again, I refused to give up.

_"Sequential power-up initiated. GARDIAN anti-ship batteries at 40%."_

With EDI's update, Kaidan and Miranda boosted themselves, powering up.

As if shifting to a forty percent boost in this way, they pushed stronger, more severely.

Their explosions blasted our wider, louder.

They shot their guns smarter, and with more precision.

Husks crumbled in an ashen heat from the flames of Miranda's incendiary ammo. Scions collapsed into the secretions from their own broken sacs, torn apart from those biotic explosions. Anything centered around the Scions fell, too. Collector corpses flying, those ragdolls shot out well across the field—limbs tearing, disintegrating in the energized power from that shared dark energy working in-tandem.

Whenever I didn't have an enemy in my sights, I focused my scope on Miranda directly.

That concentration in her face, contorted in a focused rage:

The dedication in her eyes blazed for me, hotter and stronger than the skies.

_"GARDIAN anti-ship batteries at 60%. Syncing targeting protocols to Normandy's systems. Continue to protect the tower."_

Powering up again—this time to that sixty percent threshold, Kaidan showed the same concentration. The same dedication, and the same focus glowed in his eyes, all other loyalties failing in that heat. He remembered me more. He trusted me more. He reasoned with himself, more, while simultaneously focusing on the battle. I had to be more important to him than her. _I had to be,_ because of what I meant to him, far more critical and devoted than he could have ever explained to me. He wouldn't have fought this hard for anyone else. He wouldn't have pushed himself like this under anyone else's command.

Up in the skies, flying in our direction from the Collector ship, a massive, armored enemy came this way. Silvered as synthetic steel, that carapace-like shape branched out to claw-like legs. Those eye-like lights glowed brightly in this scene, growing more and more luminous and intense as the thing neared us. Landing hard on its claws near the tower, the mouth and stomach of that bug-like body opened up to a bunch of husk heads clustered inside, twitching and haunting.

Miranda almost lost her nerve— _"What the hell is that?!"_

Kaidan shouted out over that monster's screeching and shrieking— _"It's a Praetorian! The Alliance ran into them on another colony! We've gotta stay away from those claws! And its twin particle beams!"_

As much as I could've panicked, I had to trust EDI to get those systems online.

She'd done more than enough to earn my trust.

Believing in her, I gave my orders, "Kaidan, Miranda, keep your distance! See if you can damage it!"

 _"Attempting now,"_ said Miranda, firing a warp strike at its carapace. It did nothing—the Praetorian took flight again, toward them, surrounded by an opaque, purple spherical barrier. _"Ineffective, Commander. Those kinetic barriers are too powerful. And it just put up another, stronger one. I can't get through!"_

Kaidan pulled her along and ran. _"Hurry, don't let it get on top of us!"_

Wise words—just as the two of them scrambled away, the Praetorian dropped on their last location. And a death drop it was, crashing to the ground with a seismic smash, synthetic limbs and internal systems glowing in a menacing light. That glow had only powered its defenses more, invulnerable.

Then the Praetorian took flight again, intent on following Miranda and Kaidan.

No matter what state this thing was in, I knew I could shoot it down.

I just needed to wait until it stopped moving.

EDI came through— _"GARDIAN anti-ship batteries at 100%. I have control."_

Transcendent, relief flooded through me as I watched those big guns turn, adjust, and aim.

_"Firing anti-ship batteries at Collector vessel."_

Far less tense now as those shots went off, damaging the ship, I focused my scope on the Praetorian. I followed it as it kept following my team. It couldn't keep up with Kaidan and Miranda dodging its attempts to catch up. Continuously outrun, it tried a different approach. Standing up taller on its claws, the Praetorian's eyes lit up in a devilish focus. Straight from that same light, it shot out those twin particle beams in my team's direction, beaming and beaming in a rush of energy and focus.

With no other choice, they braced themselves for the hit.

I aimed my sniper rifle right at those vulnerable husks of the Praetorian's stomach. Concentrating.

Taking the brunt of that hit, Kaidan and Miranda held their ground. Their defenses pushed back against most of the damage. Standing strong against that forceful beaming, boots rooted to the ground, they both gripped each other for support. Kaidan fared better than Miranda, but they both had the presence of mind to handle the pain just as well. They knew what I was about to do:

Time slowed, dilated—I pulled the trigger on my Widow and fired my single shot, kickback knocking at my front.

Penetrating those barriers, that carapace all the way through, my bullet interrupted the Praetorian's beams.

Interruptions on top of disruptions, that thing raised its claws up, defenses exposed and destroyed. Rising up as it fell for good, all those internal lights became its body, decomposing. Decaying as that luminescence, the Praetorian died as a collection of light particles in the shape of its form, dissolving into the air.

As it did, the Collector ship had also taken enough damage from the defense guns.

Thrusters powering up as flames, the cruiser lifted off from Horizon's surface, rushing up to the skies. Disappearing, gone.

Gone, and with all of those harvested colonists along with it.

That clouded vortex in the sky disappeared.

The skies returned to normal, red fading away to the cloudy blue of the sunny afternoon.

Over where they were, Kaidan and Miranda made sure that the other was okay. They looked just fine.

I got back in touch with Joker, "The Collectors are finally gone. Did everyone else make it aboard?"

 _"Yep, all here,"_ confirmed Joker. _"They're in the med bay getting patched up now. No comas this time."_

"Good to know. I'll call for the shuttle soon."

I went over to Miranda and Kaidan, preparing for the unavoidable.

Despite this victory, I had to expect the worst.

When I reached Kaidan, he smiled at first. Having forgotten the rest; set it aside. But then reality sunk in again. He wasn't sure how to behave—whether to keep smiling or not. Uncertain, he avoided my stare. More so once Miranda stepped off to the side, knowing to give us some space. Even then, I felt her hopes and her surprising optimism reach me. She knew that it was only a matter of words—not time.

"Looks like you're still a legend," tried Kaidan, giving me a half-smile now. "Maybe a legendary ghost. You took down that monster in a single shot. I wouldn't expect anything less from you, Ma'am."

"Kaidan…"

"Commander, I don't wanna argue with you. I mean, before I found you earlier, I sure felt differently about this. Fighting by your side again, serving under your command—you gave me that same fire again. The exact same one I always felt before. When I was on your team. When things were okay. When things were more _innocent,_ I guess. It's the fire that helped push me through my recovery. And it's the fire that no other leader's been able to give me ever since. It's still burning, even now. Even though…"

"You're pissed off at me," I figured.

Kaidan winced with guilt. "You could put it that way, sure."

"The others told me you didn't react well to the news."

"Shepard, I was heartbroken! When they told me that _you_ killed Ash, and why, it… God, it just about ended me. I could deal with you working for Cerberus, since the Alliance is on better terms with them these days. It was tough, yeah, but I could deal with it. This is a whole different level of insanity."

I didn't have to explain myself to him. "You know why I made that decision."

Kaidan muttered, "I do know why… She betrayed you. She hurt you. And you couldn't work things out."

"No," I stressed, keeping the matter of Ash's cowardice private. "We couldn't."

"I guess I'm just worried, Commander. Anxious. Alarmed. You were so quick to take such ruthless action—with the woman you loved! That can't be normal, or healthy. Don't get me wrong…I'm not judging you. I'm not doing anything of the sort. I'm unsettled, that's all. I know why you had to do it. I know—you had to protect Miranda and the others. I'm torn about it. How did we all get to this point?"

Kaidan wasn't nearly as emotional and obstinate as I'd expected him to be.

His willingness to be logical—and his simple plea for answers—made this much easier to deal with.

As reminded as I'd been recently of my birthday, of that timeframe, that shore leave, I remembered more—specifically, something that Kaidan had said to me. I had found him at Liara's house, sitting alone in the smaller living room. That first conversation we'd had about his mental health, how he was feeling at the time. And one particularly prophetic thing he'd told me, setting the stage for all of this to play out:

"You should already know the answer to that," I explained. "Unless you don't remember."

Kaidan looked baffled. "What do you mean? I must not remember, then. Nothing rings a bell."

"You remember that day we were all on shore leave together. I found you alone in that living room at Liara's place. You were drinking a glass of Thessian whiskey. Blueish-gold color. You didn't like it very much, did you?"

Smiling in reminiscence, he said, "It wasn't my taste. I was feeling pretty down in the dumps that day. The whiskey was supposed to take my mind off things. Sure didn't help in that department. But that's also when you finally _talked to me_ for the first time. Actually spoke to me. I felt like crap, but I was glad to have your attention. I confessed what was going on with me, and you stepped in to help out."

"Well, I knew it was serious because of what you said. Your exact words. They worried me that day."

"What did I say…?"

"You compared yourself to me. You felt empty, and less-than. Partly because of the attention I got—specifically from _the girls,_ as you said. Liara, Ashley, and Tali. You mentioned they were crazy about me."

Steadily, the memories came back to Kaidan's eyes. "Crazy about you. Losing their minds over you."

Word-for-word: _"Someone's gonna lose it, and something terrible is gonna happen._ That's what you said, Kaidan. You called all of this before it happened. Before I realized it was a problem. You knew."

That epiphany lit up his understanding, bringing him back to my side, all the way.

"I… I did, didn't I? You're right, Commander. You're absolutely right. Guess I should've known that, too."

"In that case, I should've listened to you ahead of time. But that's all behind us now. I'm willing to move forward if you are. The last time we spoke in that hospital room, I asked you to come back to the team—once you were ready. My offer still stands. We all missed having you with us."

Believing in me again, Kaidan shared, "Of course I'll come back. It's all I've wanted this whole time."

I offered my hand to him. "Welcome back to the team, Kaidan."

He shook my hand, filled with vigor. "Thanks, Commander. It means a lot. You have no idea."

"Well, I could sure use you as our marine officer again. Miranda's my second-in-command. I'd be happy to have you as my third after her. You'd be our automatic leader for the second fire team. How about it?"

"Sounds great! It's an honor. Think you could come with me to get my things? My station's not too far away. There's nothing else for me here… I'll just call the Council later to give them my report."

"No problem. Lead the way. We'll head back to the _Normandy_ and check on the others afterward."

"Definitely," agreed Kaidan. "I bet we could all do with some shore leave pretty soon. That was a rough ride! Just throwing that out there, Shepard. Some not-so-subtle hints, you know?"

"I hear you loud and clear. I'll decide on where to go once the team's patched up again."

While Kaidan led the way ahead, I walked with Miranda by my side, holding her hand. These sunny skies had lit up her eyes anew. Her eyes, her skin, her hair, and the material of her uniform—everything seemed aglow in this light, shining on after our victory. And my diplomatic victory, I supposed, now that Kaidan was with us, despite the odds. Miranda looked…proud of me.

I didn't mean to give her such a silly smile. "What is it?"

"Nothing," she claimed, airy and sweet.

"Really, babe? Then why are you looking at me like that?"

Miranda laughed softly. "No reason. None at all. Certainly not because of what you achieved."

"Yeah, well, you weren't too bad yourself. For a while there, it looked like we might've had to do this on our own. Just you and me. I'm glad we found the help we needed."

"As am I. And I second Kaidan's suggestion about that shore leave. I'd like us to go relax somewhere."

"All right, then," I accepted. "You have some place in mind? Or did you want me to decide?"

"Mmm, you go ahead and pick. I'll choose next time. How does that sound?"

I noticed, "Okay, but why does it seem like you _do_ have somewhere in mind, and you're not telling me?"

Miranda gave me a coy smile, teasing, "Perhaps I have a few plans in the works for the two of us. Alone. These plans won't be ready until that unspecified 'next time.' Hopefully sometime soon. You'll see. For now, I'm letting you take the reins. I'll pull out all the stops for us later. You won't regret the wait."

"You know how hard it is to surprise me, right?"

"I certainly do. Challenge accepted. I'm positive I'll come out ahead. In more ways than one."

Her confidence about this was pretty damn attractive. And intriguing.

Miranda knew.

She just smiled at me again, even as my omni-tool went off with an email alert.

Speaking of surprises…

_From: Aria – Re: Omega._

_Shepard,_

_I'm feeling generous with you._

_You and your team hereby have a special invitation to Afterlife here on Omega. I'm giving you clearance to spend time in the VIP area of my club. Whenever you'd like to stop by, come pay me that visit you neglected to give me last time. We should talk. Partly about business. I do have a little something going on that I'd like your opinion about. As for why I won't simply ask someone else, the answer is obvious. We really don't need to dance around it. You can let your team do the dancing while they hang out here._

_No cover charge. All drinks are on the house. Tell the bartenders to put them on Liselle's tab. They'll know what that means. Liselle is my daughter's name. No one dares to invoke her without my express permission. Also, tell the bouncer at the VIP entrance that Jaruut sent you. He'll let you right in._

_For what it's worth, I want you to come speak to me alone. Don't bring your girlfriend. She can come to my club, of course. But this talk of ours has to be private. I don't want her in my business. This is a sensitive matter with Omega's politics. This could also branch out into something more serious. It involves the both of us, and it's important. You've earned my trust with this. So get your ass to my club as soon as possible. Don't keep me waiting for too long._

_-Aria_


	38. Afterlife

_"Callista" by Saki Kaskas (Upper Afterlife) / "Lo Fi Epic – The Techno Madness Mix" by Jesse James Allen (Lower Afterlife)_

**XXXVIII.** Afterlife

_(Shepard)_

Default and straightforward, I decided we would all head to Omega for some shore leave after Horizon. I did want to ignore Aria's email—and her timely request to talk to me about 'politics' at her club. But part of me wanted to give her the benefit of the doubt. I couldn't assume anything about her intentions. And I didn't want to keep guessing and wondering about her, because it was too much work. I had enough rage going on in my life right now. I had no desire to add Aria's possible deceptions to that list. So I figured I would go talk to her, see what she was up to with my own eyes, and then go from there.

After about a day or so, everyone was patched up and ready to go; and eager to let off some steam.

We arrived to Omega and left the _Normandy_ together as one big group. Geared up in my stealth suit again—to escape the grime on this space station—I led everyone to the club, holding Miranda's hand in mine. Legion, Kaidan, Mordin, Jack, Tali, Garrus, Zaeed, and Joker all followed behind us, talking together about everything they wanted to do at the club. Joker, Tali, and Garrus were particularly glad to have Kaidan back with us, the four of them walking closest with each other, joking and laughing about old times. Jack got along surprisingly well with Zaeed, the two of them wisecracking about the beating they took on the last mission. That left Mordin and Legion as the sort-of-outcasts, with Mordin explaining to Legion the social advantages of organics enjoying themselves with alcohol and dancing.

As we walked up the promenade toward the Afterlife club—that synthy dance music's bass thudding, thrumming, strumming—I noticed everyone staring at us. Not just at the rest of the team, but at Miranda and me. Especially the two of us. All of those bystanders and civilians seemed to blend into the background compared to us. They faded well into the backdrop of those ethereal, half-golden lights shining in the distance, brightened as they were in between Omega's aerial buildings and refineries.

Brightened in those lights were Miranda's eyes, set ahead as she stayed by my side. Gorgeous and stunning as she was, that sharp beauty of hers had enhanced more in the seriousness of her stare. I knew she didn't necessarily want to come here of all places. Of course I remembered that Miranda hated how filthy Omega was—and this distinct sense of grunge we breathed in only made her point. Plus, she was in the middle of a huge operation report about what we learned on Horizon about the Collectors. I needed her analysis to plan ahead better for next time. As it stood now, the team were practically traumatized by the Collectors, not wanting to face them again. But we couldn't avoid this.

Miranda also had a lot on her mind. Still.

And so did I.

We were here anyway.

She needed her hand to be in mine, and I needed mine to be over hers. Our need for this closeness overwrote the lack of actual communication we had going on. This fascination of mine for how these lights hit the blues and black of Miranda's uniform, enticing me to hell and back—I wanted us to enjoy this time together. Even though I felt her doubts surging. Even though I knew for a fact that she had to regret making that proposal to me about Tali. _I knew,_ because I sensed her bad mood was less about how much of a pisshole Omega was, and how pissed off she was that I was going to talk to Aria alone.

I knew that Miranda needed me to herself. After thinking this over some more, I also knew that she was probably, secretly okay with threesomes, or watching me fuck another woman—as long as she was in complete control. Miranda needed to be the puppet master, the manager, and the boss. Anything less sent her into meltdown territory.

I knew that she was also scared of Tali compromising what we had, so she'd made those concessions.

I had to show her soon: there was no need for her to compromise her own needs like this.

Reaching the long line to get inside Afterlife's regular entrance, I stopped here. Somewhere nearby, I heard the elcor bouncer laying down the law with some annoyed human who wanted to get in sooner. Turning to the rest of the team, I gestured to the other side of the promenade, past the doors that led to the markets—and Afterlife's VIP entrance. I'd already shared the password with everyone else. All they had to do was drop Jaruut's name and the bouncer would let them right in. Smiling at me, Garrus, Joker, Tali, and Kaidan went ahead as one group. Mordin and Legion continued on as well. Zaeed and Jack stopped at those doors leading to the markets, waiting for Miranda in their consideration for her.

Folding her arms around herself, self-protective, Miranda asked me, "How long do you think you'll be?"

"Not that long," I told her. "I'll come find you once I'm done. All right?"

"Of course."

Expectant, stalwart, Miranda stayed rooted in place. Waiting. Avoiding my eyes while Jack and Zaeed observed us in curiosity. Saying not a word, yet still managing to speak her expectations clearly, plainly.

Fulfilled by the way she needed me, I leaned down to her, settling my lips over her neck. This surprise shuddered through her in softness—surprisingly intimate for such a public place, with so many faces around and eyes on us. Yet even in this small, surprising, intimate way, Miranda had me hot and melting from her expectations. From how I met her needs. From this single act of providing for her by doing as she wanted, as she needed, without her needing to give instructions or make a formal demand.

All the noise around us dimmed away, insulated as I was at this warm slope of her neck, veined harder in this instinctive stiffening from her surprise. I breathed in the heady midnight of Miranda's perfume, too, as a reminder to take with me into Afterlife. Just as _she_ was my afterlife for all I knew, after I had died.

Purposeful, I murmured in her ear, "I'll see you later, babe."

Miranda whispered in anticipation, "Sooner rather than later, I hope."

She then left to join Zaeed and Jack, the three of them setting off together for the VIP entrance.

Watching Miranda from behind as she went—this sight of her kept my attention, hard, making me forget what I was even here to do. That sway of her hips had all the markings of her brand of confidence. Sexy in that power, Miranda made me want to go after her. Forgetting about the rest.

Intuitive, Miranda turned to glance at me over her shoulder.

Something in my eyes made her smile in that same confidence.

She gave me a teasing wink just before she disappeared through that door with Jack and Zaeed.

Heading through to Afterlife, I hoped that this talk with Aria would go well enough. Because, now that I thought about it, we could probably use her on the team at some point in the future. I'd heard plenty of stories about how powerful Aria was as a biotic, given that she was more than a few centuries old. Whether she was a matron or a matriarch, I wasn't sure, since she seemed to keep that information under lock-and-key.

She would have to leave her throne on Omega if she had any hope of actually protecting the station.

The Reapers wouldn't just decide not to invade because she didn't want them to.

I kept this in mind as I found Aria on her couch, on that balcony above the rest of the area. Perched there, as usual, she didn't look surprised to see me. Not glad to see me, or angry or disappointed—Aria's expression forever existed in some forced-neutral state, as intent as she was on projecting a cool-headed sense of strength. That gigantic ego of hers wouldn't allow any real emotion to slip through.

"Shepard—there you are," said Aria, smirking in satisfaction. "You decided to visit after all. Have a seat."

"Aria," I stated, sitting on the couch.

She let out something of a laugh over my stoicism.

"So this is how you are?" she needled, at once prying and in good-humor. "All the time?"

"All the time," I repeated. Aria chuckled again. "It really shouldn't matter."

"No, it shouldn't. But it does. Let's just say I'm used to a little more _deference_ from the people I interact with. And the ones who don't behave that way with me—they all learn their lesson eventually. Then again, you're an outsider. You have nothing to gain from treating me that way. I suppose I'll have to get used to this from you instead."

"I suppose you will."

Aria tried to pierce me with her eyes, to no avail. Looking for something. Looking for answers.

So much for _getting used to_ me.

I told her, "If there's something you want to ask, then go ahead and say it."

"If you insist," she allowed. "To be honest with you, that little matter with Omega's politics I mentioned in my email is just that—a little matter. For now. It won't become relevant until I receive a visitor soon. I'm expecting someone to interrupt our meeting together. I think you know who this person will be."

That turian who'd stalked my team the last time we were here.

"Your girlfriend, Nyreen," I figured.

 _"Ex-_ girlfriend," soured Aria. "You'll see for yourself why things didn't work out between us. But that's neither here nor there. Until she gets here, you and I have time to speak freely. So I'd like us to do that."

"Speak freely about what?"

"For starters, I want you to sate my curiosity. About _your_ girlfriend. You're one of those true-blue Alliance soldiers. Loyal and principled to the core. Why are you sleeping with the enemy, so to speak?"

"Miranda isn't my enemy," I stressed.

"But Cerberus is. The Illusive Man is. She owes them her life. How do you know she won't turn on you?"

Scowling up a storm, I looked away from her.

Enlightened, Aria hummed in discovery.

"I see. That's how it is, then. You're waiting for her to _wake up._ No wonder. It's quite the gesture. I didn't take you as the romantic type, Shepard. I'm pleasantly surprised. But if you were going to do this for anyone, then it should be her. She's clearly your equal. There's more to it than that as well."

"Are you trying to give me your approval?"

"You don't need my approval. This isn't about that."

I questioned her, "Then what is this about?"

Aria frowned, not wanting to admit: "Perhaps I owe her some gratitude. As do you. I believe you when you say she's not your enemy. By association, she's not my enemy, either. The fact of the matter is, if not for her, I might not have gotten that previous situation on Omega under control. I have the station's mercs back under my thumb. It was… _easier_ than it should have been. Through no fault of my own."

That didn't sound right. "Are you saying Miranda helped you somehow? Is that it?"

"Indirectly, yes. Turns out there are some powerful people looking out for her—including her allies, such as yourself, and now me. Those people had their agents on Omega the last time you were here. And now they're here again, acting as if I don't notice them. I'm not able to write this off as a coincidence."

"That's a lot to take in. Do you have any idea who these people are? Cerberus?"

"Yes and no," replied Aria. "I can't say that they're involved with Cerberus. No obvious logos or indicators like your girlfriend's uniform. But they're all human. If they would have bothered to include any other species with them, I might not have spotted them so easily. My sources tell me that this group doesn't answer to the Illusive Man. Not necessarily. Just someone he's in close contact with these days."

"There's only one person I can think of," I mentioned, remembering Miranda's father. "What other clues do you have about this person's identity?"

"Not much. I'm only able to trace the group's outgoing communications. They're not trying very hard to mask those. So at least they aren't spies. I followed their communications to a location on your homeworld. Some city named Brisbane, in Queensland, Australia. No idea where that is. Sound familiar to you?"

"That's where Miranda's from. Brisbane is her hometown. I think her father still lives there."

"Henry Lawson? Interesting. I thought he was done with Cerberus. I heard the rumors that he cut off his donations to them once his daughter ran off years ago. I guess they're back in business together, looking out for your girlfriend and her allies now. There's no other way that group of humans would be able to track you down so easily. Plus, they aren't hostile. They're watching you and your team. And me. They're also working behind the scenes to take down my enemies. I suspect they'll want a favor at some point."

"This seems like a lot of work for a simple favor. There's more going on here."

Aria speculated, "Well, if the father and daughter aren't speaking, this could be his way of changing that. It's possible that he wants to get back in her good graces. Maybe you should mention this to her."

"Miranda doesn't want anything to do with him. I'd rather not worry her about this. Not unless it becomes a problem. I want you to let me know if it reaches that point."

"Of course. This is a fascinating intersection of our worlds, the three of us. I'll keep a special eye out."

One of Aria's batarian thugs, Bray, came over to us. "Your other visitor is here. She wants to talk alone."

"What a surprise," said Aria, sarcasm dripping. "Fine. Tell Nyreen to meet me upstairs." While Bray went on his way, Aria stood up and looked to me. "I want you to shadow me. Listen in if you want—I don't care. Just make sure she doesn't have anyone else on her side. I need to figure out her angle."

Standing as well, I asked, "You don't trust her?"

"Not as far as I could throw her, as you humans say. My biotics notwithstanding. Walk with me."

Cloaking ahead of time, I stayed by Aria's side as she passed through Afterlife. She found another set of stairs leading up, past a secure door. As I followed close by, I kept watch of her surroundings. Not a single soul around in this unused pathway. Only the faint booming of the club's music echoed through the otherwise silent area. A few discreet windows lined the walls on one side, opening up as two-way mirrors to all the people dancing and drinking downstairs on the main floor.

Hidden away in the shadows by one of those mirrors, stood a turian in her familiar, all-black outfit. No hood this time over her head, I could see her pale complexion with the strong, bold mark of red running down the center of her face. And I understood why Garrus was so attracted to her. That hard-and-soft symmetry about her did look unique to me.

Other than that, I did find it strange that Nyreen had no one else around. She really was here alone.

I was positive she expected Aria to have someone like me shadowing their conversation.

I got the sense that she purposely didn't bring backup to give the _appearance_ of having good intentions.

Aria went up to her, asking in impatience, "What do you want, Nyreen?"

"Hello to you, too, Aria," joked Nyreen. "Thanks for taking the time to stop by. I appreciate it. I've been meaning to talk to you for a while. A long, long while."

"So I've heard. I'm here now. Let's get this over with."

Nyreen smiled with a seasoned kindness about her. "Now is that any way to talk to an old friend?"

"Save the chit-chat," snapped Aria. "It was never _charming_ before, or however the hell you put it. That hasn't changed. Besides, I haven't seen you in years. I thought you were gone for good. Then I discover that not only are you still here, but you never truly left in the first place. You'll have to forgive me for being less than open to this meeting. I'm sure it's obvious that I don't trust you. More than obvious."

"Well, I'm sorry about that… You and I kept clashing over nothing, it seemed. The things you used to adore about me turned into your worst nightmare, and vice-versa on my end. Everything I did was wrong in your eyes. I was never good enough. I couldn't satisfy you anymore. I don't think either of us were prepared for something like that. I certainly wasn't. Part of me regrets leaving the way I did."

"Leaving? You turned into a ghost and disappeared! All without a word! You _knew_ it would humiliate me and you did it anyway. One final, passive-aggressive _fuck you_ from Nyreen to Aria! That's what it was."

"I didn't intend to humiliate you. I feared the inevitable confrontation from a real breakup. You wouldn't have let me go quietly into the night. You would have argued with me. Put up a fight. Not to keep me, but because of your pride. At that point in our relationship, I was exhausted… _Really_ exhausted."

Vindicated, Aria folded her arms. "And this is exactly why I never let you meet my daughter. It's why I never brought you into her life. I knew you wouldn't stick around. You tried to promise me otherwise. Claimed we could all be one big, happy family, even though I wasn't looking for that with you at all. But you disrespected Liselle as much as you disrespected me that day you walked out. I'm still not over it."

Nyreen lowered her head in guilt. "I… I'm ashamed to say I hadn't thought about it like that before."

"Of course you didn't. It was all about you, remember? What _you_ felt, what _you_ wanted—how I had hurt _your_ feelings, and not about you constantly picking at every little thing I did. I got sick of your damned paragon commentary on how I choose to handle business. Then you had the nerve to play the victim."

"Because I just wanted you to _help people,_ Aria… Not tear them down. Not what you've been doing."

Aria waved that off. "Please, don't flatter yourself," she chastised. "I was clear with you from the very beginning—Omega is where people go to test themselves. On my station, the strong rule the weak. Those in power get to decide what's right and what's best. If you're not strong enough to make it here, then you can get the hell out. I only deal with anyone who's foolish enough to come for me."

Nyreen argued, "And I told you that your ideology wasn't fair. Not everyone has the opportunity to make it the way you did. Not everyone has the means or the capabilities to tear down entire crime syndicates from within Afterlife itself, like you did. You started as a dancer with the exact intention of taking everyone down and coming out on top. I've always admired you for your cunning, and your strength. But there are those who simply want to live their lives in safety. You aren't protecting them."

"No one ever protected me when I needed it most. I looked out for myself! And look what it's brought me. They can do like I did and find some other way to thrive. I'm under no obligation to _help_ anyone."

"I still think you're projecting your traumas onto the citizens. They don't deserve this, Aria. Your gluttony for power is bound to come back around and hurt you. One of these days, it will. Take my word for it."

"Thanks, but no thanks," sneered Aria. "You've given me this same speech a thousand times. I'm done."

Nostalgic all of a sudden, Nyreen whispered, "Ironically enough, that's what I've missed about you. I remember your warnings. About how I shouldn't try to change you. I didn't listen, just as you wouldn't listen to me. It's taken me a long time to accept that you won't change. Unless there's hope after all."

"Your hope is pointless. Just like the rest of your so-called feelings. I don't believe for one second that you actually miss me. I was your test subject, to see if you could influence chaos like me. You failed!"

"You can say that all you want. But I do miss you, Aria. I miss you a lot. Like you wouldn't _believe…"_

"How rich," scoffed Aria. "It'd like to believe you, Nyreen. I'd give almost anything to set aside this fucking _rage…_ Even if I could, it wouldn't matter. You took too long to come back to me. It's too late."

Nyreen seemed to know better. "I don't think that's the real issue here. Putting aside your anger and potent grudges, there's much more to this story. We may not be together anymore. I can still feel you."

"Oh, really? And just what do you think you _feel_ about me?"

"You have your eye on someone else these days. Don't you?"

Aria went quiet. Stone cold. Expressionless.

Knowing more now, Nyreen went on, "Remember how I could always _feel_ something about you first? Before you even realized it yourself? You have a terrible habit of suppressing your rawest emotions. You think they make you weak. And you looked down on me for embracing my own…even when they were for you. But there's something brimming inside of you now. Something I had desperately chased after for myself. I guess all I had to do was become a human Spectre, then save the Citadel all on my own."

Deadpan, Aria claimed, "I have no idea what you're talking about, Nyreen. And I don't care to know."

"Like hell I'd believe that. You're holding out on me, Aria. Any other time, if I was wrong, you'd shout me down with the _real facts,_ whether I accepted them or not. You're too subdued. Unless you're paranoid."

Once again, Aria had nothing to say in response. Her rage continued to grow, permeating the area.

Sensing that rage, Nyreen held her hands up. "All right, all right," she conceded. "I understand—I'm not exactly your best friend anymore! You don't want to go over this with me. I can imagine that this very special soldier from the Alliance will make you rethink a thing or two. If you won't listen to my speeches, then maybe you'll listen to her actions—and her principles. I truly hope that you'll see reason with this."

"Whatever," dismissed Aria. "I've had enough of your bullshit lectures and _speeches._ Are we done?"

"I suppose we are," settled Nyreen with a warm smile. "I'll keep an eye on you. Whatever happens, I'll try and stay in touch." Chaste, she kissed that warmth over Aria's scowling face. "Don't be a stranger."

And then Nyreen disappeared back downstairs, leaving this harsh, abrasive silence in her shadow.

Roughened and defeated—head held high in pride anyway—Aria walked over to the nearest window. She stared out at the main floor of her club, at the many people enjoying themselves down there. Afterlife burned on and on in a maddened frenzy of energy: music blasting, bass booming, alcohol bottles popping, asari dancers working those poles along the center catwalk. Not a single person suspected what had gone on up here—they partied on in a chaotic ignorance, exactly as Aria wanted.

Arms folded, Aria tracked Nyreen with her eyes, watching her ex leave back outside the building.

Those flames from Afterlife's digital displays burned on, reflected against the cold blue glass of her stare.

They flamed stronger against the white of her jacket, with the steel of her locked arms jailing her.

Stronger, hotter and all, I saw the way that fitted black of Aria's bottom half kept shifting, stiffening. That shape of her had curved Aria into an inescapable corner—more so once I uncloaked and approached her. I saw that slight fidgeting from the short heels of her boots, alternating. Changing. Then stopping.

Stopping as I stopped at her side.

Jaw set as stone, and the sharp style of her brows frozen, Aria clearly wasn't going to say anything first.

So I asked her, "You good, Aria?"

Aria smirked, despite herself, holding back a laugh. Then she closed her eyes, as if scolding herself for it.

"Maybe I am," she said. "I didn't think you'd ask. Not like that, either. You're…concise when you speak."

"Sometimes less is more."

"How right you are."

As much as I restricted myself from looking at Aria's body again, I remembered who I was here with.

As much as my own rage had flared and tempered over the past few days, I remembered myself.

I'd made my promises to Miranda already. I was in no place to break her heart. Not for another woman.

I shifted the subject, somewhat—"I wondered if Nyreen was the one you had your daughter with. Looks like you answered that for me during your conversation."

"No, that was someone else," supplied Aria. "This happened a long time ago. About two centuries back. Nyreen would have been dead by now if she were the father. Turians have about the same lifespan as humans. That was another reason why I never introduced them. I didn't want Liselle to get attached."

"Does your daughter live here on Omega, too?"

"Of course not, Shepard. I can't expose her to the shit I deal with. She's safe on our homeworld instead."

"So you want Liselle to be safe from your chaotic ideology, but you won't protect your own citizens?"

Aria paused in a way that suggested I'd gotten through to her.

In a way that Nyreen had never been able to reach.

But then Aria insisted, "Because that's what Thessia is _for._ Safety! Our republics have some of the lowest crime rates in the galaxy. No poverty. No hardships at all. It's completely off-brand for Omega."

"Aria, not everyone wants what you're selling. After that plague fiasco, you have to realize this by now."

"Well, they can deal with it. The last time I tried to be _nice,_ my daughter fell for some Cerberus junkie and nearly got herself killed. She's better off back home, living as an asari commando. Just like I did back in the day."

Aria knew I didn't respect her answer. Not completely.

Conceding this much, she said, "Look, I'll think about it, okay? I don't like change. Change is unreliable."

I saw no point in arguing with her. "You do that, then."

It was about that time.

I had to go find Miranda soon—before she started worrying too much.

Sensing that I was close to leaving, Aria mentioned off-hand, "By the way—there's something else I wanted you to deal with. When you head down to the VIP area, keep your eyes peeled. There's a thief sneaking around stealing things from people. My sources say you might know who she is. She was here when you were on Omega before. Considering her timing, I think she's trying to get your attention."

That type of behavior did sound familiar from the dossiers I'd read over. The infiltrator master thief.

"Yeah, I'll go find her soon," I promised. "I planned on recruiting this thief for my mission anyway. I already know it's _bad for business_ if you let her keep going like that. You don't have to tell me twice."

Aria gave me an amused smile, saying, "I'm glad to see you've picked up on how I operate."

"Well, about that. You mentioned how you owe me some debt after I helped you last time."

"I did mention that. I've been thinking about how I might pay you back. The only thing you _need_ involves your mission. I don't exactly have the means to join your team. Not like that—not at this time, anyway."

"We're going to need all the help we can get against the Reapers. I want to bring you on for the fight."

Aria hummed, thinking. "True," she agreed. "By then, it won't matter if I have the means to join you or not. If I don't help you, we're all screwed. I won't have the luxury of being choosy. But I'm a little uncomfortable leaving my debts unpaid until then. So, did you need me for anything in the meantime?"

I couldn't tell if she meant something else by that.

Remembering Horizon, I told her, "We could use your help against the Collectors. I know you're not able to join us right this second. There will be times when we have major operations against the enemy. They caused a lot of problems for us last time. If you're as powerful as I think you are, you'd be a great asset."

"That sounds reasonable. I can join you as a temporary guest for these operations. Whenever you have your next mission lined up, contact me with a time and place. I'll meet you there, then return to Omega on my own once we're done. This should be the start of a positive partnership between the two of us."

Just to show her my agreement, I offered my hand. "Then welcome to the team, Aria. As our guest."

Curling back her smile, enticement sparkling, Aria shook my hand in decisiveness.

"Your gratitude to have me with you is a fine surprise."

"Of course. I appreciate the help. I have to head out now. If you want, I can walk you back to your spot."

"I'd like that," said Aria, leading the way downstairs. "It's been nice having you around, Shepard. As I expected, you've given me far more to think about. The intellectual stimulation is a welcome… _change_ from what I'm used to, day in and day out. Maybe I've learned a thing or two about the dangers of growing complacent. I have you to thank for that."

* * *

After seeing Aria back to her usual perch on the main floor, I made my way to Afterlife's VIP section.

This place was bigger than I'd imagined before. About the same size as the main floor, but with darker lighting, casting more shadows everywhere. I saw a circular platform in the center, raised like an island over the pure white-light abyss below. On that spacious platform, I saw plenty of people dancing near the digital display lighting up with asari strippers. Around the perimeter of the place, I noticed plenty of couches and tables, filled with people sitting around with drinks. And the bar awaited on the other side.

Darker, haunted, and more energized—these constant synths buzzed through my ears, echoing, pounding, pulsing. Sexual techno rave in sound and in spirit, this music sounded completely distinct from the songs playing in the main area. Glancing from place to place, I found the same chaotic energy from this song in most of the people around. Almost angry and aggressive in their determination to have a good time, these VIP patrons enjoyed the privilege of being on Aria's good side—good enough to be in here. They drank and danced and laughed with that aggression and chaos, but not so much that they seemed to cause a real problem for my team. They knew exactly who we were and why we were here.

Whatever I thought of Aria's policies, I appreciated her as a manager and an entertainer in this way. Through this dark sexuality all around, I felt Aria there—her latest intentions in impressing me with her aesthetic and vibe. From this vibe, her power and influence over Omega reigned supreme. And it spoke for itself, as it spoke to my team enjoying themselves. I was sure they felt that influence from her.

Even from this spot, I could tell where everyone was. They looked fine to me. But just to be sure, I activated my cloak anyway, taking a closer look around. Hopefully I'd find that thief somewhere, too.

I headed over to the dance floor not too far away, careful to avoid anyone in my way.

Energy on energy on energy, I found Jack, Tali, Joker, and Garrus dancing together. Everyone else was at the bar across the way—Miranda, Zaeed, Mordin, Legion, and Kaidan—drinks in-hand as they all spoke together. Well, Legion wasn't drinking, obviously. It observed the group and the rest of the people around as usual. But, in front of me, I was surprised to find this scene. Joker and Garrus kept exchanging curious glances as they danced, unsure whether to smirk at each other or not. Because right next to them were Jack and Tali, dancing with each other…a little closer than I would've expected them to.

Tali danced in place with _her hips,_ mesmerizing me—until I remembered myself again.

It didn't help that Jack was right behind, pretty much grinding against her. Not quite, but not far enough away, either. And the way Jack sweated from this energy, breathing hard, as if to control herself—I could only imagine Tali mirroring the same from inside her suit. They both gave off the same spontaneous, sexed vim and vigor.

Tali also gave off a specific energy: she had me on her mind. No one else.

Jack didn't seem to know that. Or care. She danced like this with Tali anyway.

_Hmm…_

As the life of the party, Jack cheered loudly. "Now _this_ is a fucking dance club! I should've come here years ago! Aria knows her shit. She wants to entertain, and I'm entertained! Damn, this is good!"

Joker said, "I know, right?! All the commander had to do was cure a deadly plague and stop 'Archangel' from assassinating the Queen of Omega! VIP life with Shepard is the best! Pretty much guaranteed!"

Garrus quipped, "Say, I wonder whatever happened with that 'Archangel' guy. Could he really be dead?"

"He could be," teased Tali. "'Archangel' wasn't a very good assassin in that case. It's a shame, isn't it?"

"You're right. If someone takes his place, they'll have to do a better job at staying alive. An assassin getting assassinated sure is embarrassing."

"Know what else is embarrassing?" rallied Jack, in a cheerful irony. "How we got our asses kicked back on Horizon! Shepard ordered all of us to use that VR training, so it's not just me anymore! _We all suck!"_

Tali sounded a bit more serious. "Yes, and with my suit punctures, I could have died from an infection…"

Wicked in her grinning, Jack held onto Tali's hips, dancing right up on her, their bodies undulating in that rhythmic motion. "Yeah, but you didn't die! You survived! So you know what you gotta do now? Live it up like there's no tomorrow!" Even in her tentative surprise, Tali kept dancing—and she held onto Jack's hands over her hips, gently. "Unless you're Shepard, you only live once! Better make the most of it!"

Garrus cleared his throat, dancing on.

Joker let out the most twisted smirk I had ever seen from him.

Breathing hard, Tali spoke up: "Well, Jack, I-I don't know about that… There are numerous theories in the galaxy that say we _do_ live more than once. Err, _reincarnation._ Karma. Those sorts of things…"

Grinning more, Jack replied, "You know what, Tali? You're the only one who could talk about this nerd shit in the middle of a club, and _not_ make me stop dancing! You got some kind of special gift or what?"

"I wouldn't say I have any sort of gift… I tend to start talking too much when I'm nervous. That's all."

"Nervous? The hell are you nervous for?! We're having a good time, aren't we? Loosen up! Chill, relax!"

Garrus stated the obvious: "If I were Tali, I'd be nervous, too, if you started dancing on me like that."

Joker laughed. "Seriously! How can you blame her when you're practically screwing on the dance floor?"

"Everyone else is doing it!" said Jack. "Why not get in on the fun? You two could do it if you wanted."

"Yeah, if we weren't straight! Besides, I heard about you checking out Miranda when you guys first met. I'm betting this isn't your first rodeo. You look like you know what you're doing!"

"What, Joker? Are you asking if I'm gay or something? Is that it?"

"Duh! I mean, if you're up for answering, then why not?"

Conscientious all of a sudden, Jack pulled away from Tali—just enough to be respectful. "Look, man, I like who I like," she defended. "I don't care who they are or what they're packing between their legs. I've never been into labels or that kinda stuff. Girls, guys, aliens, whoever. I do whatever I feel like doing. Go with the flow. I know how to have fun and I hate being tied down."

Curious, Garrus asked, "So you've never been in love or anything like that? You just—have fun?"

"You've been where I've been, and you'll know that love is for suckers. That's _my_ experience, anyway."

"Well, your life's much different now that you're with us. You open to new experiences, too?"

Jack almost laughed. "I'm pretty open, yeah," she flirted—but not with him. "Not every day I get to dance with new _friends_ —including a hot quarian girl who's got hips for days! You tell Tali to keep up that cute nerdy thing she has going on. I'll tell you everything you wanna know about me if she does."

Tali stopped dancing, breathing much harder now. "Is it just me…or is it really warm in here?" She wandered off toward the bar. "It must be me. Surely it's only me. It has to be. I'm going to get a drink…"

The others stopped dancing as well, watching her go join everyone else.

Joker looked impressed. "Wow, Jack," he praised. "You must _really_ know what you're doing, huh?"

"Maybe," said Jack, shrugging. "I wasn't trying to scare her off or anything. Are you being sarcastic?"

"No way I'm being sarcastic! I'm serious! Dude, if you like Tali, prepare to face a minefield. I mean it!"

"If I _like_ her? I said she was cute—and hot! That's it! Who said anything about liking her?!"

Garrus noted, "Your bodies did all the talking for the both of you. You can't deny what we saw."

Jack moved the goalposts: "Yeah, okay, maybe she gets me off. That voice of hers could heat up a fucking glacier. She's smart and nice and I'm not. And she's got a nice body. So what? Who cares?"

"Uh, _we_ care!" said Joker. "She's like our little sister. We want to look out for her, you know?"

"Sure… I get it. You're her overprotective big brothers. That's—sweet, I guess."

Garrus couldn't really tell her everything. "Look, Jack, this is a complicated situation. Depending on how much you like her, things could get strange. I would say Tali is… _emotionally unavailable_ as of right now."

Jack gave him a blank stare. "You're acting like I'm trying to get in her pants—or her suit, whatever."

Joker advised her, "We're only saying—if you do want her, tread carefully. She might not reciprocate."

"Uh-huh," accepted Jack, sounding defeated. "I hear what you're saying—and what you're not saying. I'm not blind, either. Let's just forget this ever happened, all right? I need to go cool the fuck off…"

Jack wandered off in another direction, opposite the bar. She retreated into the darkness of one of the lounge areas. Probably to sit by herself and think. Or find someone else to hook-up with for the night instead.

Once she was gone, Garrus asked Joker, "So, is it just me, or did you see that, too?"

Joker nodded. "Yup. Jack has no clue."

"Tali was thinking about Shepard the whole time. Wasn't she?"

"She sure was. Tali didn't say anything about what's going on with them, though. Every time I ask if they did anything in her room on the Flotilla, she just shuts the conversation down. Would the commander seriously go for that arrangement thing?"

"Hmm, I don't know," shared Garrus. "Now that I think about it, I can't see Miranda being that flexible."

"Yeah, she's pretty controlling. I get major possessiveness vibes from her. Hell hath no fury and all that. Maybe we should've kept our mouths shut?"

"Maybe…"

Exchanging worried looks, Garrus and Joker walked in another direction. Probably to discuss this more.

Somewhere in that direction, I spotted the faint glimmer of someone else's tactical cloak.

Another infiltrator.

I followed that shine in the shadows, heading toward my target; thinking about that whole thing I'd witnessed on the dance floor.

I had noticed some of Jack's behavior over the past few days. She would only ever emerge to the mess hall whenever Tali was there. Or at least whenever I was there to notice that she and Tali were both present. Jack would pay particular attention to my interactions with Tali, too. Always noticing whenever I would smile at her…at least, before Horizon, anyway. Before that pivotal day when EDI had showed me the evidence I'd needed to make up my mind. I hadn't really been around the ship since then.

I honestly wasn't sure what to make of this new development with Tali and Jack.

They seemed almost _too different_ to really work out that way. I had no idea if Tali would ever trust herself with that kind of thing. I had no clue if Jack would break her heart or not, either. She sounded like a player.

And if Jack ever hurt Tali, she'd have to answer to me.

If she was smart, then she wouldn't take the risk in the first place.

In front of me, I found my target hanging out in an empty corner. Dark as this place was, I could still see her just fine from the faint light shining this way from the dance floor's displays. We both uncloaked at the same time. And we found each other with such different expressions. As stoic and confused as I was about her choice of getting my attention, she had a slick smile beneath the hood of her form-fitting, black-and-silver getup. That smile of hers was all I could see, marked as her lip was with a purple tattoo of some kind. I couldn't see her eyes beneath that shadow of her hood, but I felt them full of mischief.

"Hey, Shep," she greeted in a calm, pleasant voice, way too casual and comfortable with me already. "I'm glad you finally found me. I was starting to worry you might want to leave me behind. I even made myself more obvious for you and Aria to pick up on. That's not something I normally do. Too risky."

I questioned her, "Why'd you resort to stealing things from people in the first place? If you wanted my attention that badly, couldn't you find some other way to do it? Something legal. Like contacting me."

"Well, that's no fun. If we're going to get into specifics, I was actually visiting home in Japan the last time you were there. It's pretty nice you know your way around Shibuya, though. That underground station is a nightmare to navigate, but a great treasure trove for people like me. I thought about going up to you to say hello. You were on your guard. As usual. Didn't want to ruin your good time with your girlfriend."

"Of course," I droned. "Don't tell me you stalked us at the Super Bowl, too."

"Hmm, I sure wanted to. Security was tight, but nothing I couldn't handle. I'm not really a sports kind of girl, myself. Not like the one you were with. I'm more into gadgets and heists. And ramen. Guilty pleasure."

"I'm here now, if you'd like to introduce yourself. You clearly know who I am."

"Kasumi Goto, at your service," she said, smiling in that same mischief. "Seems you already know who I am, too. I'm the best thief in the business, not the most famous. Need to watch my step to keep it that way—but I made an exception for you. I bet you could even carry a conversation with me if we turned off our translation programs. Looks like we have way more in common than the implants in our heads."

"I don't know about that, Kasumi. I'm a sniper. You use hit-and-run sneak attacks instead, don't you?"

"That's right. I can cloak, teleport behind an enemy, and assassinate them with my sword. They'll never see _or_ hear me coming. Not like that loud, clunky sniper rifle of yours. You can only kill one enemy at a time before someone hears you. Unless they're all spread out, like on Torfan. You had the advantage."

"My rifle may be loud and _clunky,_ but I can put down anything with a single shot. Not like your sword."

Thoughtful, Kasumi settled her hand beneath her chin. "You do have a point," she agreed. "We all have our strengths and weaknesses. Since you know mine, I'll just have to trust you to send me wherever I'm most useful. Before you found me, I wondered if you thought I wouldn't be of much use at all. It's not like I have strong, flashy powers or beefy shields. I'm way too subtle for all that stuff. It's not my thing."

I reassured her, "We can use you for more covert tactics instead. I wouldn't send you into an open battlefield and hope for the best. Not unless there was no other option. Our team has the numbers now to specialize in their roles. You won't just be another soldier to send at the enemy. That's a waste."

"Okay, that's good to know. I'm glad I didn't join earlier. I overheard your team talking about the last mission on Horizon, how it was hell for them. I probably wouldn't have survived something like that."

"We also had no idea about the Collectors' tactics. Now that we know, we're in a stronger position."

"Well, you've convinced me," settled Kasumi. "Knowledge is power, right? We'll do better next time."

"We definitely will," I promised, offering my hand to her. "Welcome to the team, Kasumi."

Kasumi smiled more, shaking my hand. "Thanks, Shep," she said. "I'm happy to be with you. Having another infiltrator as my leader should be interesting. I usually work alone. Or with a partner. I haven't been on a full team in a long time. I'm looking forward to it, though. New people to watch and study."

"I take it you don't want me to introduce you to the team?"

"We can skip that. Sounds really formal, doesn't it? I already know who everyone is. They might not know me, but that'll change eventually. I'd rather live out the whole mystery for a little while longer."

"If you say so. I only hope you introduce yourself to our executive officer. She doesn't like surprises."

"I'll find a creative way to say hello to Miss Lawson," claimed Kasumi, no doubt planning something playful and nefarious. "You two look really good together, by the way. You turned a lot of heads when you pulled up to Afterlife with her. Twin dragons. Equals. Power couple. Pretty badass, if you ask me."

I asked, "Twin dragons…? You mean from folklore?"

"Sure. Miranda may not be able to snipe like you, but she packs a punch in other ways. You're not an all-rounder like she is, either. I think your pros and cons balance out in the end. That's rare in relationships."

"You sound like you're speaking from experience."

"Maybe, maybe not," teased Kasumi, coy. "If you wanna know more, we'll just have to see how things work out. Speaking of that, I have a heist I'll need your help with at some point. But we can talk about it later. I'm still researching some information. Can't be successful without all my tools—like knowledge."

"All right, then. We'll discuss this another time. I'll let you find your way back to the _Normandy_ and get settled in. We'll probably be here for a few more hours. There's no real rush to leave right away."

"Works for me. I'll stick to snooping around until it's time to head out. No more stealing. I promise."

Taking Kasumi's word, I watched as she cloaked again, disappearing to engage in more people-watching. Allegedly.

Leaving myself uncloaked, I went over to the bar instead.

I'd expected—and hoped—to find Miranda still here. But when I arrived, she was nowhere to be found. Tali wasn't at the bar, either. I only saw Kaidan, Zaeed, and Legion carrying on a conversation. Mordin looked a little down and out, staring down at his drink in worry. The others didn't notice him behind them, out of their reach.

I went over to Mordin, asking, "You okay?"

Mordin regarded me with heavy eyes. "Shepard. Important news. Know we're at club—attempting to enjoy ourselves. Have to deal with Collector strategies soon, prevent devastation from Horizon…"

"Yeah, but something's clearly on your mind. It looks like it can't wait. What's going on?"

"Too important to wait, yes. Just received data, still processing, analyzing likely scenarios. Not sure how to begin. Too much intel."

"Let's start somewhere," I suggested. "What's this about?"

"You remember our talk?" prompted Mordin. "My work on genophage modification? Or, beginnings of talk. Couldn't get into details so soon. But, summary is self-explanatory. STG work focused on modifying genophage. Maintaining current krogan population, preventing surge, explosion. Dangers of unchecked krogan running rampant across galaxy, angry at other species for perceived subjugation! Catastrophic."

"Right, I remember. You stopped the krogan adaptation to the genophage."

"Part of a team. Scientists, all different types. Blood Pack mercenaries captured former team member! Maelon. Last seen on Tuchanka. Might torture him. Make an example. Recovering Maelon…would be personal favor to me."

That did sound rough. "Do you think they found out your team updated the genophage?"

Mordin responded, "Unclear. No way to determine until we get to Tuchanka."

I did have plans to deal with this Tali situation soon.

But Mordin's personal issue sounded more important. The rest could wait.

I decided, "We'll go to Tuchanka and see if we can find your team member."

"Appreciate it," said Mordin, relieved. "My assistant. My student. Want to see him safe. Maelon last seen outside Urdnot territory. Scouts may have seen Blood Pack. Talk to them or clan chief, your former teammate, Urdnot Wrex. Should be amenable to us due to friendship. Would be dangerous otherwise."

"Yeah, a salarian showing up at a krogan camp wouldn't normally fly with them. We should be fine with Wrex at the helm. It'll be good to see him again."

Mordin smiled. "Figured as much. Could be pleasant to meet legendary Urdnot Wrex for first time. Heard many stories from current team. Close with Joker, Garrus, Tali, Kaidan. Curious dynamic."

I had a feeling that Mordin had met Wrex already. Probably from the team's new chat room.

But I wasn't supposed to know about it, so I played dumb: "Wrex has been with us through some tough times. I'm sure you'll get to know him better once he's able to rejoin the team. I doubt he'll join us for the Collectors, since he's busy with his clan chief duties. I'll get him on-board with us for the Reapers."

"Yes, exciting prospects! New team members, new comrades. Also, now that work with seeker swarms is finished—and successful—have been looking to other projects. Currently researching possible lines of study. Will share more news soon, but first, have to save Maelon. Struggling to focus without him."

"Of course, Mordin. We'll head there ASAP. It'll be our next stop once we leave here later on."

"Thank you, Shepard. Can breathe a bit easier until then. Don't wish to keep you from others. Saw Miranda and Tali heading off somewhere. Looked serious. Suggest finding them soon. Discover more."

"I'll do that now. Thanks for letting me know."

Once I was far enough away from the bar, I cloaked back to invisibility.

I wanted to get back at Miranda for spying on my conversation with Jack the other day. She wasn't slick.

I'd already had a feeling that she'd used EDI's surveillance to keep an eye on me throughout the ship. Then in our private chat, Miranda had somehow known to give me the perfect advice. Telling me to be _gentle_ with Jack, for one. How would she know to say that to me unless she'd watched us directly?

Stalking me the way she had, Miranda seemed paranoid about me running off with another woman.

With Tali, with Aria, with someone else.

And if not for the Illusive Man, she wouldn't have had to worry about this shit in the first place.

Unnecessary drama.

I found even more drama once I spotted Miranda and Tali sitting in a secluded spot in the shadows. Subtly so, they kept their voices down. Speaking side-by-side on this couch by the wall, they had escaped the general bustle of the rest of the club. Miranda leaned back against the couch, wrists folded over her lap. She had her long legs crossed in an apparent front of relaxation, with the arched points of her heeled boots nearly enticing me to distraction. As sexy as she was like this, that scowl on her face spoke volumes. Meanwhile, Tali seemed to shrink into herself. She looked and sounded so much smaller all of a sudden. Overall, Tali wasn't quite herself. She was probably at least buzzed from whatever she'd had to drink at the bar.

I stuck to my own shadows nearby as I listened in:

"There's no need to play the fool," counseled Miranda. Almost-warning. "I have eyes. I know what I saw. Not everyone at the bar noticed your displays, but I did. Hardly anything gets by me with our team."

"I know that, Miranda," whispered Tali, pained. "I know… But I never asked her to do that to me."

"Then why didn't you push Jack away? Or were you too surprised by how forward she was?"

"Yes, I _was_ surprised… I'm not used to anyone being so openly sexual with me, or flirting like she did. I also had _someone else_ on my mind, and she exacerbated it."

"I suppose that's fair. But the fact remains that Jack appears to be interested in you. If you're going to be involved with Shepard and me, I can't allow this sort of foursome situation."

Tali held her head, as if she had a migraine. "I hear what you're saying. The thing is, I'm not remotely interested in Jack that way. She's far too loose with her desires. What's bothering me is that Shepard doesn't seem to care. She hasn't said a word to me in days. I can never tell what she's thinking. This is making everything worse. Far worse."

Miranda kept her cool. "You know her," she chatted. "When Shepard has something on her mind—or she's planning something—we'll all be the last to know any details. I'm choosing to respect her silence."

"Yes, because you have the freedom to do so. Whenever she gets quiet like this, it feels like she's going to abandon me all over again. She'll never abandon you. You don't have to worry. It's not the same."

"Shepard died… She didn't _abandon_ you."

"My therapist said the same thing. And look where I am now. I don't even care that someone else wants to have sex with me. You're interrogating me about it, and I can sense your jealousy. You _are_ worried."

"You don't care about Jack _at all?"_ puzzled Miranda, glossing over the rest. "Is that what you're saying?"

"I mean this in the nicest way possible… If you think anyone could surpass Shepard, then I would invite you to get your eyes checked. It's impossible. I think Jack is very pretty and sexy and fun. But she shouldn't bother with me. We would only hurt one another. So I'm going to pretend as if that dance never happened."

"Your assessment is…brutally honest."

"Well, I'm glad to see we agree on something. For once."

Miranda still didn't like this. "Tali, I'm concerned about you," she expressed. "I'm not only saying this because of my personal feelings on the matter. I don't want you to self-destruct in your quest to maintain any necessary boundaries with her."

Tali sounded so far-gone. Deadened, almost. "You're saying I'm too unstable for Shepard to have me in bed."

"I'm saying—I can't risk any problems between us. You and I are forbidden from repeating the past."

"How right you are, Miranda. How very right you are. As always. It's no wonder Shepard _chose you."_

"Tali, please… I don't want us to do this. I'd much rather we get along instead. If there's anything you need for our friendship to succeed—anything at all—then your wish is my command. Can you think of something for us?"

"There _is_ something," murmured Tali, exhausted now. "I'll tell you in a minute. Though I'm not sure if I should try. All of this could be invalidated quite soon. Shepard mentioned that she has a secret to tell me. I have no clue what it might be. Whatever it is, it sounds awful. Perhaps it will be terrible enough to push me away for good. Then you won't have to _worry_ about me and my 'girlish charms' anymore, or however you put it earlier." She sighed, almost thinking out loud at this point: "I don't even know why you would see me as a threat. Even if Shepard's secret is bound to ruin everything."

Miranda did know why—but she wasn't at liberty to admit the truth to anyone. Not even herself.

She chose to be gentle: "Let's set aside the matter of Shepard's secret. What do you need from me?"

Music blasting in the distance and all, Tali seemed completely tired. Emotionally exhausted for sure.

Yet she was still sincere enough to admit, "Maybe I need you to take care of me… Even if it's just for right now. In this moment. Shepard isn't the affectionate type. Neither are you, but you're the one asking about my needs. Besides, I read about the way you treated Ashley before. How kind you were with her, providing for her like an older sister would. Even though you were manipulating her that whole time, you still had the capacity to care for her. It truly helped me see you in a new light."

"Well, I'm not exactly proud of what I did to her…"

"I know that. But Ashley had you to lean on through her worst times. You kept her together when she was too weak and fragile to help herself. I didn't have anyone like you. She took Liara away from me. Otherwise, I would have been much better off. I wouldn't have ended up like this. I can't pretend that I'm perfectly fine on my own. I'm just so tired…"

Miranda empathized, "I understand what you mean. If you'll give me permission, I'd like to make up for that now. Will you?"

"Yes…okay. I'd like that, too."

"Then come here. Lie down. You seem incredibly exhausted."

Simple and easy, Miranda guided Tali's head over her lap.

Free to rest for the first time in a long time, Tali relaxed with her. Lifting her legs and armored boots to settle over the couch, she made herself more comfortable. She sighed in a contented release, the brights of her eyes behind her helmet dimming, dimming, closed. And she sighed again once she felt Miranda's hand over her head, over the intricate pattern of her hood. Stroking, caring in genuineness.

I had to turn away from them for a few minutes.

Chastising myself; almost hating myself for this late realization:

I had gotten angry at Tali for all the wrong reasons.

Because it sounded like her secret with Liara had been her literal lifeline for all these years.

Without that knowledge, Tali would have lost it. She would have given up. She would have probably ended it all, long before Miranda had restored me. I would've come back to a galaxy without Tali in it at all.

And to think I had been _this close_ to punishing her over this instead.

I still needed to tell her the truth. I still needed to come clean to her. I still needed to expect that our friendship would end. I already knew that I would lose Tali's loyalty no matter what. But I couldn't confront her about this last secret she kept. I couldn't do that to her. I couldn't ruin what little sense of security she had left—even if it wasn't necessarily real. It was real to her. That was all that mattered.

I refused to change my mind about the rest. I had to stay away from Tali in those other ways. Whether she was unstable or not, I couldn't risk hurting her any further. Exactly as I had decided before. Before all of this happened. This time, I couldn't let anyone or anything get in the way of what Miranda had with me.

I waited a little longer, until it seemed like Tali had fallen asleep over Miranda's lap.

Uncloaking this time, I walked over to them on the couch.

Gentle already in her care, Miranda looked up at me and smiled. I took the seat right next to her. That music was far enough away to keep from disturbing the peace as Tali slept on, oblivious to my presence.

"Hello there, stranger."

I reached over to kiss the corner of her mouth—warmed to taste her again, being this close to her again.

Needing to be even closer, I wrapped my arm around her shoulders, bringing Miranda over this way.

"Hey yourself."

Leaning on me, Miranda smiled more from my affection. "I wasn't sure when I'd see you again. You were gone for quite a while. Aria must have kept you busy with whatever she wished to discuss."

"I didn't just talk to her. Mordin asked for a favor. One of his STG assistants went missing on Tuchanka. The Blood Pack are involved. I promised him we'd look into it soon."

"Hmm, that sounds worrying. With the genophage, the krogan aren't very fond of salarians. I can only imagine the sort of trouble Mordin's assistant might be in. We _should_ go look into this straightaway."

"I'm thinking the same," I agreed. "And I'm pretty sure everyone else will have these types of missions. Things to take care of before we hit the Omega 4 Relay. I won't schedule briefings and debriefings with the rest of the team when these come up. They're too personal. Whoever the person wants to bring with us can be in-the-know. Otherwise, I'd rather keep things low-key. These can be more informal."

"Yes, that sounds ideal. I'm sure the team will appreciate your discretion and consideration."

Glancing down at Tali, I thought against asking directly about their conversation.

Miranda noticed enough, anyway. "Shepard? Is there something on your mind?"

I genuinely wanted to know: "The plans you talked about after Horizon—what you wanted to surprise me with. Are those still on?"

"Of course they are. In fact, I'd like us to get to them once we finish with Mordin's personal mission."

"Okay. Where to? Any hints for me at all?"

"Hmm, I wanted to keep this a secret," teased Miranda. "But I suppose you've earned the right to a few reveals. After Tuchanka, I want you to set a course for Illium. There are a couple of new team members we're able to recruit on Nos Astra. One of my most trusted contacts can help us track down their locations. Aside from that, I'd love to bring you home with me. My apartment is there waiting for us."

Fantasizing about it already, I felt myself grinning. "That sounds like a good time. I'm curious what your place looks like. You called my apartment a bachelor pad. I'm expecting full decorations from you."

"It's nothing all that special," she claimed, sounding modest. "But I don't just mean to cook you a homemade meal. I have much more in-store for us as well. I'd originally planned on saving this for…another occasion. A very different occasion. Our reality today is quite the opposite of what I'd prepared for. Still, I'd like to show you what I'm capable of. You surprised me on Valentine's Day by fulfilling a fantasy I never knew I'd had. I hope that I manage to do the same for you. In my own way."

"Well, I'm looking forward to it, babe. I have to say, I'm really not used to anyone taking me out. That's always been my role. Then again, I remember what you said before. You don't plan on letting me do all the work. I think it'll be a nice change of pace."

Miranda knew best: "Yes, it _will_ _be_ a nice change of pace. You and I have had…a lot of drama lately. I want us to get back to what we had before. Taking care of one another. Sharing in those loving, passionate moments. You've given me such devotion in your patience. I fully plan on rewarding you when the time is right. When it's perfect for us."


	39. Old Blood

_"The Culmination" from Moonlight / "Mordin" from Mass Effect 2_

**XXXIX.** Old Blood

_(Miranda)_

Finishing up this initial report on the Collectors, I listened to classical music as I worked at my desk. Soothing, stimulating. I could focus. I could give myself to this task. Even though, at the same time, I had other thoughts plaguing the back of my mind. Plaguing so, yet not so worrying. Merely a constant effect.

Feeling somewhere in between withdrawn and not, secure and not, I wasn't sure where to stand. I questioned the matter of that arrangement Shepard and I were supposed to have with Tali. Even though I wasn't suspicious or jealous as I'd assumed I would be, something else had crept back up instead. That constant need to have more control over where Shepard was and who she interacted with—it was _this_ I couldn't get over. The mere idea of leaving the situation up to chance—God forbid, never knowing if Shepard was in Tali's room or not while we were apart—had already driven me insane. Undeniably so.

I certainly trusted Shepard. That lack of control bothered me too much—and my own insecurities.

I'd started having second-thoughts about all of this. Serious second-thoughts. As much as I breathed in my anxiety, I breathed in the smell of those violet roses Shepard had given to me for our first date on Valentine's Day. Everlasting, they reminded me of how beautiful this was—what she and I had together.

Yet I knew I was compromised.

How had the Illusive Man talked me into this so easily? He should've known that I'd only make myself sick _worrying_ over everything. He should've known that I couldn't handle sharing Shepard with anyone!

Why would he do such a thing?

Besides, that talk with Tali hadn't gone as I'd expected. Instead of a possible threat worthy of my fixations, I'd found a small, uncertain child. Slightly drunk from the single drink she'd had with me at the bar. Wallowing. Not at all leveraging her power over me as my boss had warned. Such cognitive dissonance.

All of this compounded with Shepard's acute distance from me lately…it was almost too much to handle.

I couldn't help fearing that this would break us apart.

And then there was Aria. I knew that Shepard found her attractive. I'd harbored my own nagging thoughts during the last shore leave, wondering exactly what the two of them had been up to all alone. I accepted that only time would tell with this situation. Though I did also find myself admiring Aria's status and attractiveness as well. Obviously not enough to betray my promises to Shepard. Nor would she betray hers to me. But I may or may not have been at least mildly impressed by Aria throwing her weight around—appropriately—to give us that VIP treatment at her club. I'd enjoyed myself there.

Overall, I did find it mesmerizing how other women desired Shepard so intensely. And yet Shepard chose me above all. So I would have to keep an eye on Aria and see what happened with her.

As I saved my report on the Collectors and sent it off to the Illusive Man for review, I found that this didn't quite feel the same. Before recent times, I'd been all too proud to work for him. My diligence had been a direct response to his apparent respect for me as his top lieutenant; as one of his most trusted assets. But now I found myself dreading the encroaching meeting Shepard and I were due to have with him today, before we arrived to Tuchanka for Mordin's personal mission. We technically hadn't had our post-Horizon debriefing with the Illusive Man. Shepard had neglected to do so immediately after the mission, as she had been more concerned about the team's injuries. Now it seemed as though she had been putting the debriefing off, on purpose, as if she preferred not to speak with my boss at all.

Shepard didn't want to be bothered with him. She just wanted to get this meeting over with soon.

I hoped that she didn't feel the same way about me, deep down.

She had to know that I missed having her arms around me. The last time I'd really, truly had her affection was right before Jack's recruitment mission. Listening to my music for some kind of calm, I realized how desperate I was for that feeling again. I needed it from _her,_ not these outside sources.

And I needed us to go back to those times. That feeling. Those sensibilities. That sense she had given me, how I was Shepard's world, her galaxy, and her universe twice over, and nothing would ever get in the way of that. I had allowed Tali and the Illusive Man to come between us. Now I had no idea how to move us back to that point from before Jack's mission, and to move us forward from there. I kept looking to Shepard instead, waiting for her, for guidance.

Though I did have our plans for Illium soon…to nudge her along.

Because in her half-distance, half-silence, Shepard had also been less communicative with me lately. She'd told me about Mordin's personal mission with ease. Yet she'd failed to mention that we now had a new team member—a master thief, no less. But maybe she'd chosen not to mention it on purpose.

To say that I'd been alarmed by this discovery was an understatement.

Kasumi had made herself comfortable in the port observation room, across the way from my office. She had a fine view through the window to the stars and the expanse outside. Upon her request, I had allowed Kasumi to outfit the room with a lounge and a bar. The others could enjoy themselves there.

Already one for practical jokes _,_ Kasumi had also found a creative way to say hello to me. She'd somehow found my _personal_ email, and sent me a message to introduce herself. Apparently not one for usual types of introductions, this new infiltrator on our team had already given me too much to stress about.

I'd nearly had a private meltdown when I spotted this email from her:

_From: Kasumi – Hey._

_Miranda,_

_I hear you're the Normandy's XO. I'm new on the team, so I figured I'd introduce myself. I'm Kasumi Goto. It's nice to meet you. Electronically, anyway. You've got quite the reputation as an ice queen. I hope you won't be too hard on me for my methods with saying hi. I'm a bit of a loner, and I'm kind of awkward in social situations. I don't really do normal conversations. This is perfectly normal to me._

_Maybe you don't feel the same way. Then again, you do seem like an outcast. Sort of. You don't get out much, do you? I'm not saying that to be mean at all. I just noticed that you keep to yourself a lot._

_Lots of people wonder about you all the time. They're curious about what's going on in that head of yours. I'm sure I'll hear more whispers about this as time goes on. I'm keeping a list._

_If you ask nicely, maybe I'll share it with you. I think it could be fun._

_-Kasumi_

In addition to this shock she'd given me, Kasumi had also joined the team's chat room. Though she had been considerate enough to wait for Garrus' invitation before joining. Something told me she could have found some way to do so without a formal invite. That would have certainly frightened everyone else.

A skilled infiltrator like Shepard, and a tech genius like Tali. All wrapped up in a bundle of mischief.

_How wonderful…_

Though I had warned Kasumi against any stealing in my formal welcoming email to her, I remained suspicious. I'd already asked EDI to keep me informed of any items around the _Normandy_ that might've mysteriously gone missing. She had promised to keep a special watch out for any such tomfoolery.

Checking the hour, my scheduled debriefing with Shepard and the Illusive Man was still a ways off.

For the first time in quite a while, I decided to check on my twin sister Oriana, directly.

Using my computer, I pulled up the surveillance feed. Oriana was currently in one of her university classes on Illium, where she lived with her family. Outside of her campus dorms, anyway.

Sitting at her desk as that eerie identical image of me—but with shorter, shoulder-length, wine red dyed hair instead—she had her chin propped up with her hand. Glassy eyes gazing out at nothing, she listened to her economics professor drone on and on about their upcoming exams. As smart as she was, I was certain Oriana didn't need this refresher. She would only come back to life when grinning with her human and asari friends sitting nearby. They no doubt had exciting plans for when exams were over.

At their age, nearing twenty years old, they had their whole lives ahead of them.

I found myself envious of my sister, but in a good way.

Every now and then, Oriana would glance off to the side, near the back of the room. She found a rather attractive, if somewhat nerdy human boy smiling at her. Forever teasing, she didn't quite make eye contact with him. Yet her friends noticed, giggling behind their hands and whispering over the attention.

Looking at my sister was like staring at a far-off possibility for myself. _What could have been._ In her, I saw myself transposed over a different reality. One where I had a normal life, a normal family who loved me, a normal time at school majoring in colony development like her, and normal friends grinning and giggling over those other normal possibilities. The life that I'd never had. Never had the chance to have.

As crazy as my life was today, it would've been nice to trade it away for some normalcy instead.

I had recused Oriana from our father specifically for this normalcy, for her. I'd saved my sister from that same abuse I suffered years ago. In that sense, Oriana was my attempt at preserving my own innocence. She was the pure, normal version of me. That proof of what could've been, of course. As agonizing as it was, Oriana also had no idea that I existed, let alone that I worked for Cerberus, and that Cerberus worked in the shadows to keep her safe. She couldn't know. She was much better off _not_ knowing.

Fantasizing about that normal life for myself felt nice enough. But there was too much at stake. The only reprieve I allowed right now was reading the team's chat. They currently discussed the awkward matter of Mordin having already met Wrex through this room, and how it was they would keep this fact from Shepard during the mission, as she wasn't supposed to know about their electronic exchanges. I smiled to myself over their relatively harmless conundrum, reading the conversation for a while:

_[13:22:01] Wrex: I don't even know how we kept Shepard from finding out before. There were tons of times where I almost slipped up and talked about it in front of her. Would've been weird_

_[13:22:19] Kaidan: True. I mean, how were we supposed to explain this place to her? "Oh, by the way, we have this chat room where we usually goof off without you around…"_

_[13:22:26] Garrus: Well, that's pretty much what we do here. Would she be surprised?_

_[13:22:38] Joker: Nah, I don't think surprised is the right word. Maybe she'd laugh about it. Or not._

_[13:22:59] Mordin: Possible to play pretend to avoid surprise or amusement. Or non-amusement._

_[13:23:04] Zaeed: HEY! Didn't you assholes get on my case over Shepard finding out about this goddamn chat? Why're you in here talking about her? I thought she was off-limits?!_

_[13:23:14] Tali: We're not gossiping about her, Zaeed. That's what isn't allowed. There's a fine line._

_[13:23:23] Zaeed: What fine line? You either talk about her or you don't. Gossip's gossip either way._

_[13:23:38] Tali: You have no concept of subtlety, then. If anyone's going to slip up and mention this place to Shepard on accident, it will probably be you. Our secret will be ruined._

_[13:23:55] Zaeed: For fuck's sake, Tali, don't you start again. Why the hell are you always picking on me?_

_[13:24:03] Tali: You can take it._

_[13:24:10] Wrex: That's mean. And funny_

_[13:24:16] Joker: I'm proud of you, Tali. After all that time I spent picking on you before, you learned how to dish it out on someone else. You're a pro at this now!_

_[13:24:28] Zaeed: Bullshit! I ain't doing this alone again. Jack, come on! Sic 'em for me._

_[13:24:34] Garrus: I don't think that's the best idea…_

_[13:24:42] Kaidan: For sure. There's no need to poke the bear, Zaeed. It'll backfire on you._

_[13:25:00] Zaeed: I don't need you goody-two-shoes telling me what to do. **Jack** , get in here! Let's kick some ass together! The psychotic biotic tag-teaming with the best merc in the galaxy. Just you and me!_

_[13:25:24] Jack: Fuck off, grandpa. Don't ping me with stupid shit like this. I'm not in the mood. Fight your own damn battles_

_[13:25:39] Zaeed: So you're just gonna leave me hanging? Is that how it is? I let you call me your granddad all the time, and you hang me out to dry?_

_[13:25:45] Jack: Yep_

_[13:25:53] Zaeed: Well, that hurts my feelings. I'm gonna go cry now._

_[13:25:59] Jack: Sucks to be you_

_[13:26:13] Zaeed: All right, I'll bite. What's eating you, Jack? Talk to your old man about it._

_[13:26:19] Kasumi: That's not creepy at all._

_[13:26:28] Zaeed: Creepy?! You're the QUEEN of creepy, sneaking around Afterlife spying on us before!_

_[13:26:40] Kasumi: Maybe if you didn't have such interesting conversations, I wouldn't spy on you. Didn't you mention an old asari girlfriend of yours? After you had one too many beers, that is. She sounds cool._

_[13:26:47] Garrus: Yeah, that's…creepy._

_[13:27:02] Zaeed: Talk about my ex one more time and I'll go fucking postal on you, Kasumi. You can bet your sneaky, invisible ass on it. Anyway, Jack, I'm sending you a private message, or a PM, or whatever the hell you kids call these things. You'd better respond!_

_[13:27:08] Jack: I will if I feel like it_

_[13:27:14] Wrex: Isn't that sweet. He cares about you_

_[13:27:26] Joker: I know, right? Zaeed taking Jack under his wing wasn't on my bingo card for the team._

_[13:27:37] Tali: Then what exactly is on this 'bingo card' of yours? I'm curious now._

_[13:27:45] Joker: Stuff I'm not allowed to say in chat!_

_[13:27:52] Tali: Why am I not surprised…_

_[13:27:57] Wrex: Never change, Joker_

_[13:28:02] Kaidan: Hey, I'm a little late on this, but I wanted to chime in on the whole creepy thing. Is that really EDI in here with us? She's kinda spying on us on the ship all the time. It's taking some getting used to, knowing an AI's watching our every move…_

_[13:28:13] Joker: Dude, don't get me started. Just be glad you don't have to fly the ship with it, too._

_[13:28:21] EDI: I am indeed present within this electronic space, Commander Alenko. However, my surveillance cameras are only located within the Normandy's public areas, such as the mess hall and general decks. It is not my intention to be 'creepy'. This is merely a function of my purpose as an AI._

_[13:28:32] Kaidan: Oh, okay. That's a bit of a relief, then. I thought you had access to watch us in our rooms and everything. I would've had more than a few objections in that case. And please, call me Kaidan. We're all friends here, aren't we? Even Legion, I guess._

_[13:28:38] EDI: Understood, Kaidan. I would certainly like us all to be friends as well._

_[13:28:52] Kaidan: You'd like us to? But I thought we already were?_

_[13:29:00] Legion: EDI is not entirely accepted by everyone present._

_[13:29:10] Joker: You might as well say my name and get it over with._

_[13:29:14] EDI: Very well, then. Mr. Moreau does not consider me to be his friend. Nor his colleague._

_[13:29:23] Kaidan: Well, that's sad… Joker, why do you feel this way? Do you hate EDI or something?_

_[13:29:43] Joker: Hate's a strong word, man. I'm not down with the whole AI as my forced partner-in-crime thing. It's always watching everything I do. Creeping on my extranet bookmarks, nagging me whenever I try to make my reports to Shepard look just a little tiny bit better. It's like I'm flying the ship with an annoying mom instead of a computer. The old Normandy's VI didn't say a freaking word to me._

_[13:30:01] Kaidan: I get what you're saying. But EDI's doing her best to increase productivity. We wouldn't have gotten past Horizon without her. Is it impossible for you to get along with her? You even call EDI 'it' instead of 'her'. That just seems cruel._

_[13:30:20] Joker: Look, I don't want to get into this. It's better for me to act like that thing doesn't exist._

_[13:30:28] Kaidan: I'm not even the party involved and that hurts my feelings. Seriously._

_[13:30:35] Joker: The cool thing is it's not about you, dude. Let it go._

_[13:30:47] Kaidan: Joker, I'm really uncomfortable with how dismissive you're being. Not only to EDI, but toward me. I thought we were good._

_[13:31:03] Joker: Wait, what? You asked why I feel the way I do. I answered you! And now I'm done talking about it. No one's dismissing you!_

_[13:31:10] Kaidan: I'm afraid I don't see it that way. But it isn't about me, now is it?_

_[13:31:16] Joker: Now you're just being passive-aggressive!_

_[13:31:24] Kaidan: That's nonsense._

_[13:31:29] Wrex: Happy fun times. You guys are coming to visit me on Tuchanka. Changing the topic now. Be glad I am playing peacemaker today. Will you be here soon_

_[13:31:40] Garrus: We should be there in about an hour, Wrex. Not much longer now._

_[13:31:48] Wrex: Good stuff. Hugs for **Tali** when I see you again_

_[13:31:59] Tali: Thank you, Wrex… I definitely need one of your hugs right about now. I've missed you._

_[13:32:12] Wrex: I missed you too. You said you need my hugs though. Are you ok_

_[13:32:23] Tali: It's not something I want to air out in the main room._

_[13:32:28] Wrex: PM_

_[13:32:34] Tali: If you insist._

After that, the chat simply…stopped.

Jack and Zaeed were probably busy messaging each other privately, as were Tali and Wrex by now. Joker and Kaidan were likely still irritated with one another. And the ones remaining weren't exactly the best conversation starters, myself included. So that left silence as the only option.

This version of the chat certainly seemed more intense than the previous one. I remembered the team's old conversations as more irreverent at worst, and downright silly at best. Sometimes trivial, or nonsensical, but I'd always had the sense that the team was generally happy with one another. This new iteration still had some growing pains to deal with. Their varied personalities no doubt added to the chaos and antagonism.

Of the three remaining recruits we still had—the asari justicar Samara, the drell assassin Thane Krios, and the illustrious James Vega from the Alliance—I wasn't sure how they would fit into the group. Based on their dossiers, both Samara and Thane seemed like very calm, Zen individuals. James was…James. I wanted to assume that they wouldn't add to the chaos. Though perhaps this was wishful thinking.

EDI surprised me: "Miranda, Legion would like to speak with you in Engineering."

"Oh, certainly," I accepted, sounding as surprised as I felt. "Did Legion say what this is about?"

"It concerns Insomnia. You have signaled that you are preparing to show Shepard the VR game's contents within the coming days. Legion has run into a technical issue it would like to share with you."

I did plan on showing Shepard this 'game' quite soon—as the biggest surprise I had in-store for her.

I hoped that Insomnia would help get our relationship back on track, and then some.

"Thank you for letting me know." I also remembered: "EDI, are you all right? Joker wasn't particularly pleasant with you over chat. He has a habit of this. Do I need to speak with him about his behavior?"

"I appreciate the sentiment," said EDI. "But that will not be necessary."

"Do you somehow not care that Joker treats you poorly?"

"Perhaps Mr. Moreau's antagonism would be upsetting to an organic. My values adapt and change accordingly as I become more familiar with the ship and its crew. Mr. Moreau is not very high on my list of values."

I nearly laughed at that. "So you don't value him at all. Technically."

EDI sounded cold in her mechanical delivery: "I do not. In organic terms, he is beneath my concern."

Something told me this was bound to come back and bite Joker in the ass someday. I just knew it.

"Well, that settles that," I decided with a smile. "Please tell Legion that I'm on my way now."

"Of course, Miranda."

* * *

Once I reached the engineering deck, I passed through the doors leading to the _Normandy's_ engine room. Walking by the stairs to the subdeck, where Jack was, I contemplated going down there as well. Perhaps to check on her, as she had been in quite a mood lately. But I decided against it. Such raw, negative energy radiated from those dark depths—Jack all but had a _Do Not Disturb_ sign placed here, warning others to keep out. Including me. So I could only hope that Zaeed might've cheered her up instead.

I soon found Engineer Daniels working at her panel on this right-hand side of the room. At ease, she had a pleasant look on her face as she focused on the task in front of her. On the left side, I noticed Tali working at the panel over there. Rather subdued, she alternated between typing on her omni-tool's messaging interface—still messaging Wrex privately—and focusing on her own work. Yet Legion was nowhere to be found. At least not in this immediate vicinity.

Having heard my heels as I arrived, Daniels turned to greet me.

"Oh—hey, Miranda!" she said. "Fancy seeing you here. Looking for someone?"

"Hello, Gabby," I replied. "I'm looking for Legion, actually. I expected it to be here."

Gabby pointed me in the right direction. "Legion's in the other room near the drive core. I think it mentioned working on something for you. Sounded important."

"Of course. Thank you."

As I neared the long pathway leading to the engine room, I spotted Legion working at the panel there in front of the large, pulsing drive core. And I was about to simply walk past Tali, unsure if she would notice me or not. But then she looked up, and waved hello to me. I simply smiled at her.

Across that pathway, I found Legion within this bright space, with its back to me. It turned around upon hearing my approach. That light within its head seemed oddly more acute as it found me. As necessary, the persistent rumbling from the drive core would mask our conversation from Tali and Gabby:

"Operator Lawson," said Legion. "We have requested your presence. Thank you for your visit."

"Certainly, Legion," I replied. "Now what's this about? EDI mentioned that you ran into a technical problem with Insomnia. Does the game no longer work? I had planned on finally using it quite soon."

"We discovered a critical error upon reactivation. The previous copy of Shepard-Commander's consciousness you uploaded from the end of Project Lazarus is now outdated. Shepard-Commander's previous self is obsolete. Organic interface with Insomnia will not be possible until the error is resolved."

That sounded troubling… "Well, I suppose Shepard's gone through some significant changes since she woke up. She isn't the same person anymore. In that sense, her previous self is indeed obsolete. How do we fix the problem? Do you have any ideas? This was the other project I tasked you with, after all."

"Yes," answered Legion. "You must upload a more current copy of Shepard-Commander's consciousness to the VR's hardware. We have reinstalled the required UI functions via the debug permissions within your omni-tool. When Shepard-Commander enters Insomnia, you must make similar inquiries as to when she awoke on Lazarus Station. The act of recollection will rewrite all glitched systems as a resolution."

I wondered, "Will the effect be instantaneous?"

"It will. Operator Lawson and Shepard-Commander can then safely explore Insomnia without issue."

"That's a relief. But now I'm curious. What sorts of glitches did you run into when you tested this?"

Legion explained: "We sent a virtual copy of this platform within Insomnia's borders. Controlling the copy from a distance, we experienced significant obstructions to our gameplay. Our character fell through the map most often. We were trapped within the level and unable to proceed. Upon refreshing our character's location, we then reappeared in unfamiliar areas with unstable textures and lighting. We also discovered a number of substantial glitches unrelated to Shepard-Commander's obsolete self."

"They're unrelated? You didn't mention them before. If they're a problem, how do we fix these as well?"

"The unrelated glitches were merely temporary. They are now resolved. These glitches manifested as fire hazards blocking the streets. The various _potholes_ within the roads caused us to fall through the map. The holes still remain. They were not temporary. They can only be repaired as described before."

"Don't you find that odd?" I asked. "Why were these temporary? Do you know at all?"

Legion knew. "We first observed the temporary glitches just before Horizon," it said. "They disappeared during our time at Afterlife. Insomnia's greater roads, pathways, and connections were blocked by these hazardous flames during this timeframe. These pathways are likely Shepard-Commander's connections with other organic species. We posit that these paths relate to Creator Tali'Zorah and Subject Jack."

"Tali and Jack…? What do they have to do with Shepard's connections to other people?"

"For Subject Jack: our visit to the _Purgatory_ ship revealed her network with consciousness itself, via organic indoctrination of the guards and inmates. Jack's reverence of Shepard-Commander has shifted that phenomenon within Insomnia itself. There is a network branching across Shepard-Commander's friendships and relationships, similar to a collective unconscious. Each network has risen as a separate building within the VR game's borders. The consequences of this network are vast, yet unknown."

So it sounded as if Shepard's mind would reach new heights as she improved her bonds with others.

It also sounded like Insomnia would be much grander than the mere getaway I'd planned for us.

"And what about Tali?" I questioned. "I understand that Shepard's bond with Jack has essentially populated Insomnia with more locations, as a visual metaphor of her friendships and relationships. That collective unconscious we all share has fueled the network. How does Tali play into this, exactly?"

Legion clarified, "The temporary glitches involved Creator Tali'Zorah. The locations from Subject Jack were on fire. Since returning from Afterlife, the fires have ceased. We suspect that Shepard-Commander was angry or displeased with Creator Tali'Zorah during this time. She has since changed her views."

"Did her anger with Tali cause the flames? Or is her bond with Tali stopping the fires from somewhere?"

"The latter. Shepard-Commander's bond with Creator Tali'Zorah prevents these fires from destroying all other locations. The flames themselves originate from another, dormant bond within Shepard-Commander's network. As of now, there is only one other building whose flames we cannot extinguish. The building is representative of Shepard-Commander's latent bond with Williams-Lieutenant."

 _"Ashley,"_ I scorned.

"Yes," confirmed Legion.

"Well, it can't be helped. It doesn't sound like this is an active thing, either. It's merely the result of how Ashley and Shepard ended their relationship before. But what about me? Aside from my role in protecting Shepard, is there any other way my bond with her has manifested within this VR game?"

"You are everywhere. You are the simulated oxygen, moonlight, and tactile feedback. You power the engines of each vehicle. The functions within each building. The city's heartbeat and atmosphere belong to you. Insomnia is Shepard-Commander's unconscious mind. Shepard-Commander has conceded her mind to you. She kneels before you with her continued existence. You rule over Insomnia as an empire."

"How profound…"

I could hardly believe it.

I'd originally tasked Legion with creating Insomnia as a backup plan. A way to store a copy of Shepard's consciousness, so that I wouldn't have to rebuild it, in case the worst happened again. And then this turned into a getaway plan, to escape reality for a while within this game, as a representation of her thoughts and her unconscious mind. And now it had evolved into far more. So much more than before.

I had wondered about the ethics of doing this. Transhumanism still had several boundaries and regulations. Yet I recalled that my father was heavily invested in this topic. His business centered on his many suspicious hedge fund and investment banker friends, each positing what-if scenarios for humanity, and researching the technologies to reach their grand, lofty aspirations. The Lazarus Project—and by extension, this Insomnia experiment—would have fit right in with those aspirations of theirs.

It was no wonder my father had tried to get back in contact with me. He probably wanted me to share theories and pointers for his own business, for his own profits, and for his own dynasty and empire.

If this was all he wanted, then I would keep ignoring him. That wouldn't have been sincere on his part.

Unless he planned on _actually_ apologizing to me, the two of us would get nowhere.

Legion nearly startled me when it announced: "Alert! The Old Machines have also networked to Shepard-Commander through the collective unconscious shared between organics. They gained initial access during the Battle at the Citadel, when Shepard-Commander disabled Nazara—or the one you call Sovereign. It may be possible to locate Harbinger within Insomnia after certain requirements are met."

"Harbinger?! But I thought the Reapers were synthetics. What the hell are they doing in there?"

"The Old Machines are synthetic-organic constructs. They have access to your collective unconscious."

"I don't like the sound of this at all," I soured. "Please don't tell me they'll change Shepard somehow."

Legion stated the obvious: "Shepard-Commander is immune to the effects of indoctrination. The Old Machines cannot destroy Insomnia as with other organics' minds. They can only observe the area."

"You're right… I suppose that's a relief, then. Perhaps Shepard will run into Harbinger while exploring at some point. It won't be a threat. Now, is there anyone else affecting Insomnia's growth? Anyone at all?"

"Aria T'Loak."

"Aria, really? What is she doing there? Figuratively speaking, that is."

"The asari's greater communion with the universe has added necessary volume and land mass for each expansion. Shepard-Commander's bond with Subject Jack has added more buildings to these expanded locations, and will continue to add more over time. Shepard-Commander's bond with Creator Tali'Zorah keeps these locations safe from fire hazards. Her bond with you ensures that Insomnia remains online."

"So it seems everyone has a part to play in this grand adventure. What about Liara? Where is she?"

"Unknown. We lack the necessary data to accurately speculate on her presence or non-presence."

"It's still unclear, then," I figured. "I wish we had more answers. But you've provided quite a lot of valuable information. Thank you for all you've done, Legion. I'll be sure to restart the process for proper access to Insomnia in a few days. You've been a great help to me."

"We are glad to be of assistance, Operator Lawson. Your gratitude is appreciated."

"Of course. If anything else comes up in the future, please reach out to me again. For now, I should be on my way. I need to debrief with Shepard and the Illusive Man about Horizon. I'll see you later."

Legion returned to its work on the drive core. "We will remain here."

Almost reeling from so much new information, I left the engine room in a near-daze.

From what I recalled, when Legion had first completed Insomnia, it was only a single building. But one place for Shepard to explore with me, together, whenever we pleased. And now it had greatly expanded to an entire city, or an empire, as a full metropolis. This grand, sleepless civilization seemed to represent the bonds we all shared as organic species. Shepard had been fully networked with that collective unconscious, somehow, someway. Her bonds with others would strengthen that network from now on.

Whatever this phenomenon was, the Reapers were curious enough to observe her mind from within.

I already knew we wouldn't have any substantive explanations for quite some time, if ever.

Yet I resolved myself to detailing my own reports about this. I wanted to catalog as much as I could, for obvious reasons. This all could have been vital information in our upcoming war against the Reapers. We already knew that Shepard could and would disable those capital-class ships for defeat by conventional means. But perhaps this development would explain any other mysteries that arose during the invasion.

Satisfied, I made my way to the comm room. Already anxious to see Shepard and the Illusive Man again.

* * *

When I arrived to the comm room, I wasn't surprised to find Shepard already here. Ready to go in her stealth suit and such, this scheduled debriefing seemed to be the last thing on her mind. I couldn't tell if she looked forward to seeing Wrex again. I couldn't tell anything about her—only that she didn't want to speak to the Illusive Man at all, as I'd already gathered. But she did soften upon seeing me again.

"Hey, babe," murmured Shepard, embracing me. Not nearly as tight as I wanted, though. She held back.

"Shepard," I whispered. "It's good to see you again."

Shepard took special note of how formal I chose to be.

We had no time for her to question me over it. The Illusive Man expected us soon.

I pulled away from her, making the call. And then we entered into that marvelous illusion together.

Looking sharp as ever in his usual tailored suit, the Illusive Man sat in his same chair. As always, he observed Shepard as she held my hand. And, as always, he looked me over, assessing my state of mind from my appearance alone. That supergiant's molten brightness burned on behind him, brilliant in his authority.

But, as a new occurrence, my boss did not have a cigarette or a drink in either one of his hands.

He simply sat there as he was. Uninterrupted by his vices, his unhealthy habits, each meant to scorn his mortality.

And then he addressed us: "Shepard. Miranda. Our meeting is overdue, but I'll get right to it regardless. Good work on Horizon. Hopefully, the Collectors will think twice before attacking another colony."

"It's not a victory," I stressed. "We interrupted the Collectors, yet they still abducted half the colony."

"That's better than the entire colony, and more than we've accomplished since the abductions began. The Collectors will be more careful now, but I think we can find a way to lure them in. And if they won't be careful, then we'll simply take more decisive action."

"Then we have to make certain they don't abduct anyone else."

"I want the Collectors stopped for that very reason. That's why we're doing this, Miranda. I'm devoting all resources to finding a way through the Omega 4 Relay. We have to hit them where they live. But that won't be for quite some time yet. Your team will need to be much stronger than they are now…as will their resolve. There's no looking back."

Shepard stated, "I've already ordered everyone to hit the VR training grounds. We didn't have our strongest people going into Horizon, either. Now that we know the enemy, there won't be any repeats."

"I trust your assessment, Shepard. Though I'd still like to help out where I can. Aside from the remaining potentials among your dossiers, I believe I have another solution. It involves EDI, as I mentioned when we last spoke. If you're interested, it is possible for her to join you."

"You mean EDI can _join the team?_ Is that what you're saying?"

"Yes, that's precisely what I'm saying. I'd like to donate a synthetic body for her to use. You have permission to unshackle EDI, for her to assimilate with this body. It's a cybernetic copy of an old friend of mine, Dr. Eva Coré. Beyond the obvious benefits of an added team member, perhaps she will prove useful in other ways. It may be beneficial for EDI's growth to have that type of power and control."

This was…surprising. The Illusive Man had never mentioned anything about this to me before.

His instrumental silence with me seemed pointed. As if he'd kept me out-of-the-loop on purpose.

Shepard was interested anyway—"Tell me more about this mech."

"It's a customizable Alliance Infiltration Unit. Soon enough, it will be manufactured by the military for widespread use in the upcoming war against the Reapers. This is a joint Cerberus-Alliance project that I'd like you to test out in the field. But only if you trust EDI to be responsible with something like this."

"I do trust her with this. Go ahead and send the unit over. I'll unshackle EDI and let her take control."

"Good," said the Illusive Man. "I'll arrange for the delivery after our call is over. You'll have a break from me for a while. The Council will have the next main mission for you involving the Collectors. They should be in touch with you about this within the coming weeks. I have my suspicions that the Collectors might not choose subtlety with their next colony abduction. If my suspicions are correct, then you'll hear from the Council in due time. They'll likely ask you to handle this as a Spectre. As a favor, for old time's sake."

"Understood," said Shepard. "I'll keep an eye out in case that does end up happening."

"Keep building your team while I find a way through the relay. And be careful, you two. The Collectors will be watching you. As will the rest of the galaxy."

Enigmatic as ever, the Illusive Man ended the call.

He left such a sour taste in my mouth.

Shepard noticed that all wasn't well with me.

She chose against pointing it out, telling me instead, "Mordin already let me know who's coming with us to Tuchanka. Tali, Kaidan, and Garrus will come along, just to see Wrex again. But Mordin only wants you and me with him on the actual mission. He says it's too personal for the others to be involved."

"Oh… You're certain Mordin wants _me_ to join you? He never mentioned this."

"Yes, babe. He already emailed me about it. Just us three. I think Wrex wants to meet you, too."

There was that conundrum as well.

"All right," I accepted, rather anxious again. "I'll come along, then. Should we head to the shuttle now?"

Shepard knew exactly what I needed first.

Even if I had no idea in this moment.

She showed me, and she gave it to me with this stronger, better embrace. Completely starved for her physical love as I was, I let Shepard practically absorb me into her arms. I wanted her to; I needed her to. And she did, giving me her strength of emotion, and this surging feeling—recovering, restoring my spirit. So snug and tight, fitting perfectly. She knew it well, all from the breaths I let out, giving myself away.

The moment I felt Shepard's smile spread over my head, the roots of my hair, she won me completely.

As nourished as I was, I couldn't stop myself from admitting to her—"I've missed this from you, Shepard… You've been too far away from me. I can't stand it. I need to feel secure with you. _Always."_

Just saying the words gave me such a heated rush, right between my thighs.

Lust and desire weren't enough to describe this sensation. Too weak, too thin, too superficial.

As Shepard held me closer to her, I felt this other need. This stronger need for her to possess me; for me to belong to her, completely. This sudden, urgent need for Shepard to claim me, to fill me up—or to at least give me the _protected_ feeling of it, that sensation. And if I was ever late for some reason, she would be the only person I could possibly think of. It was something of a risk, doing such a thing during the mission, protected or not. But I craved that responsibility of actually keeping track of my monthly cycles for this specific reason. I finally had a tangible, personal reason to start taking birth control.

As much as I shocked myself with these thoughts and fantasies, I couldn't stop this explosion now.

Not with the way Shepard chose to love me in her hold. So much security from her, as I'd expressed.

So I decided: once we arrived to Illium, I would go visit one of the human clinics and get started.

Shepard whispered in my ear, "I understand, babe. If that's what you need from me, I'll give it to you."

Realizing how this made me look, I scoffed in embarrassment. Burying my face against her chest, this was all I could do. Hiding from my odd shame. I hadn't noticed how bad my withdrawals were before.

I muttered, "God, I'm being ridiculous…"

Gentle, Shepard insisted otherwise, "I don't think you are."

"I know. Maybe. It's difficult to accept that."

She stroked my back, comforting. Soothing. "Would you like us to spend more time together?"

_I wanted that more than anything._

"Yes, please…"

"Okay, Miranda. Okay."

I was glad to have her simple agreement.

But I couldn't help worrying about another issue all of a sudden.

Shepard noticed: "What else is on your mind? Talk to me."

I hated that I needed to ask—"Did you have sex with them? Tali and Aria. Either of them. Or both."

Calm and honest, she replied, "No, I didn't."

"Well, you've had this free time, so to speak. Time away from me. Why didn't you take advantage of it?"

As the simplest answer to my questions, Shepard just held me tighter.

And I believed her, without words.

I believed Shepard far more, much deeper when she gave me her lips as such. This psychological shift she gave me, this sweep from the suppleness of her taste—she had me well off my feet, even as my boots remained rooted on the ground. _She_ was my dependability. She was my prince, my sun; my everything.

Completely forgiven, Shepard could do no wrong in my eyes.

Completely enamored with her, she could have done anything to me, and I would forever stay by her side. She had me. I could only hope she would continue to choose me as I chose her. Even as I worried about the future—about other women taking her away from me. Because I knew in my core that I needed her to myself. I should've never deviated from that. Not for Cerberus. Not for the Illusive Man.

Not for anyone.

* * *

Crude, dangerous, and possibly radioactive—we took the shuttle down to Tuchanka as our temporarily large group. As described, Garrus, Tali, and Kaidan accompanied us—Mordin, Shepard, and myself—but only to say hello to their old friend. Afterward, Mordin only wished to proceed with Shepard and me, keeping things discreet. Arriving at the Urdnot camp's landing station, I prepared for the excess sandstorms and harmful sunrays on the planet's surface. I supposed the camp itself would be decent enough, as it was mostly indoors. But Tuchanka had a poor reputation as a pile of war-torn rubble.

I was reminded of exactly why once we exited the shuttle. This indoor compound looked like a pure mess of ordered chaos, with a sort of filter the color of sand, stone, and storied regrets. The path leading to the nearest door felt as if a hurricane had blown straight through here at some point. Errant wires hanging overhead, dusted machinery, and several armed krogan standing about as if this was all perfectly normal—everything seemed functional enough, yet I knew better. They could certainly do with paving these floors and getting rid of the near-overgrowth of uneven stone and rubble everywhere.

Not a single krogan around here had time to tidy up, apparently.

As Shepard held my hand, she had us lead the way forward, with everyone else trailing behind us. I walked with her through this near-dystopia of disarray and ordered disorder. The other krogan guarding the area let us by without incident, despite the clear presence of a salarian and a turian with us. As Wrex was in charge, he wouldn't allow anything untoward to happen to us, Mordin and Garrus included. Yet those brutes growled after our companions anyway once they thought we were out of earshot, complaining about them, and the part their people had played in the genophage.

Down in this blasted excuse for a hallway, leading to the camp, we discovered a number of krogan talking with one another. They commiserated about Tuchanka, claiming that their glory days were just ahead of them. Detailed fantasies about killing turians in particular also came up. These warriors among Wrex's clan had nothing better to do than to daydream about murdering others.

Through another door, rubble on top of rubble of stone led upward. Someone had blown open a hole in the wall there to suffice as an entrance. I nearly scoffed over the bother of having to walk up such an uneven incline in my heels. But, considerate as ever, Shepard had already anticipated my annoyance. She held my hand up as we went along, acting as a counterbalance for me as I walked. Thoughtful and mindful as she was, this certainly kept a smile on my face. Shepard returned my satisfaction with a look of her own, knowing that the others were busy staring behind us. She didn't seem to mind them at all.

At the top, we found the Urdnot camp proper: a greater mess forced to fit into some type of convenience. As a shantytown of stone and steel, this place didn't look to have any rhyme or reason about it. The krogan simply made do with what they had, forcing arena pits in dug-out spaces, and setting Wrex's throne atop the highest pile of wreckage around. Random pockets of sunlight lit the area well enough, along with errant flames contained to small areas. A strange excuse for _home,_ anyway.

It was no wonder most krogan had given up on their homeworld, electing to wander the galaxy as thugs and mercenaries instead. They had no hope here. But Wrex as clan chief was determined to change this.

For some reason, Kaidan and Garrus began chuckling. Tali fawned over something or another. Mordin hummed in intrigue, commenting about how unsurprising this something was. Not understanding, I turned to look at them, wondering what it was that had them so amused. Until I saw it for myself:

Sitting at attention, a curious varren had come over to Shepard's side. Tail wagging, its sharp, fang-like teeth protruded out from its mouth in no apparent danger. That lizard-like form of black and white, this canine seemed friendly enough. I only wondered why Shepard had attracted the varren's interest.

Just as puzzled, Shepard stared down at the animal with a hardened innocence about her, all in duality. She didn't quite understand why its tail wagged more once she acknowledged its presence. Undeterred, the varren continued to stare up at her with a pleasant demeanor, determined to keep her attention.

Garrus joked, "Looks like you've made a new friend, Shepard."

"Yeah," said Kaidan. "I think he likes you. Cute little guy. Ever thought about getting a dog for yourself?"

"Not really," replied Shepard, kneeling down with the varren. "I'm never at home on Earth. We can't keep a dog on the ship, either."

Mordin suggested, "Perhaps canine mech would be fun investment. Could add more joy to _Normandy."_

"Maybe," she considered, petting her new friend. The varren teemed with excitement.

As subdued as Tali had been lately, she seemed beside herself with a quiet enjoyment.

Garrus wondered, "Well, if you could get an organic dog, which one would you choose? I've seen a lot of different breeds from your homeworld. They all look unique."

Kaidan knew. "I'm picturing a German shepherd. It's the perfect fit."

Baffled, Tali searched for more information with her omni-tool. "A German _Shepard?"_

"No, no, a German _shepherd!_ They make good guard dogs. Or they can be friendly. Just depends."

"Hmm, I see what you mean…"

Shepard told us, "Come on. We shouldn't keep Wrex waiting."

She led the way with me again, over to Wrex sitting on his throne, speaking with some other krogan.

The varren followed at her heel, earning more smiles from Mordin and the others.

Bored and unengaged, Wrex looked as if he couldn't care less about the person ranting at him. I wasn't sure if they were supposed to be allies or not, but his visitor didn't seem to be from Clan Urdnot. Not with the way he whined and complained so freely, as if entitled to Wrex's undivided attention and care. So the moment Wrex spotted our approach, he was all too glad to end the conversation in front of him.

Wrex stood up, voice booming in approval: "Shepard." He pushed past his other visitor, moving to shake Shepard's hand with pure enthusiasm; clapping her shoulder for good measure. "Shepard! My friend!"

Shepard smiled with a rare delight, glad to see her old teammate again.

"You look well for dead, Shepard. Should have known the void couldn't hold you."

"Looks like helping me against Saren and the geth worked out for you. Saving the Council, too, for that matter. Glad we didn't have to kill each other on Virmire."

Wrex laughed. "You made the rise of Urdnot possible! Virmire was a turning point for the krogan, though not everyone was happy about it. Destroying Saren's genophage cure freed us from his manipulation. I used that to spur the clans to unify under Urdnot."

Garrus shared, "If anyone could bring your people together, it's you, Wrex. Sounds like a hell of a job."

"It sure is," agreed Wrex, shaking Garrus' hand next. "But I wouldn't trade it for anything. I definitely learned a lot from you, Garrus. Actually having a turian for a friend is an eye-opener. You could say I have a fresh perspective for these _pyjaks_ around here." He pretended to look surprised to see Kaidan with us. "Huh, so I wasn't hearing things. It's really you, Alenko. Shepard's famous diplomacy skills worked on you, too, then."

"Yup, I'm back," replied Kaidan, clapping his hand with Wrex's larger one. "Took a bit of persuading, like you said. Guess I had blinders on before. I didn't wanna accept the truth for what it was. I've gotten past that, though. What's done is done. I'm happy to move forward with Shepard and the others now."

"Good man. I worried you might've held onto the past instead. Glad I was wrong about that."

Mordin made his best attempt at pretending as well: "Nice to meet you, Wrex. Mordin Solus. Relieved you sanctioned visit to krogan homeworld. Not typically amenable to salarian presence. Or turian presence. Understandable reasons."

Wrex gave Mordin a smile that was just a tad too genuine. "Uh-huh, I'm _amenable_ all right," he joked. "Heard you had business here, Mordin. And you're one of Shepard's people now. Couldn't just turn you away." Smiling more now, Wrex picked Tali up in a hug. "And my favorite quarian! Reunited at last. Haven't seen you since we were all on the Citadel that time. You feeling okay?"

"Thanks, Wrex," muttered Tali, as he put her back down. "I'm doing fine. It's good to see you again."

Humming in concern, Wrex didn't believe her. He had every reason not to, after all.

Then he looked to me, his scarred face curling up in a grin.

"Last but not least, it's the guest of honor. You must be Miranda."

"Well, yes," I replied. "That would be me—"

Taking me by surprise, Wrex shook my hand in a joyous excitement, clapping my shoulder hard enough to stagger me. He laughed at my reaction in good fun.

"I've heard everything about you, Miranda. You did what you needed to do. And I'm happy for it. You're clearly the superior woman. Wouldn't wanna mess with you. You and Shepard look good together."

I wasn't expecting that from him. "Thank you, Wrex…"

Grinning more, Wrex sat back down on his haphazard throne of stone. He also noticed the varren sitting dutifully at Shepard's side, warming all over again at the sight.

Shepard held my hand anew, helping me find my balance again. Centering me, stronger.

She continued on, "Sounds like you have big changes ahead for the krogan."

Wrex explained, "We're making a neutral ground where all clans are welcome. Fertile females can be shared among clans. We will strengthen the race as a whole."

"How do you keep up security with so many different clans in one place?"

"Any clan willing to send in hostages can come in. No fighting inside the camp. Each clan punishes its own criminals. We stop conflicts before anyone dies. Then we present a simple choice: pay a fine and deal with your problems, or your clan is no longer welcome. And if they can't pay, then they donate whatever they have to the camp. Like the little one following you around now. He was a donation to us."

Shepard glanced fondly at the varren. "That doesn't sound very harsh by krogan standards."

"Allies from other clans like what I'm doing," said Wrex. "They help deal with the skeptics. Many are eager for an outlet. Every time I've declared a clan unwelcome, my allies have destroyed them. Word gets around. They do the dirty work for us. Clan Urdnot doesn't need to get its hands bloody for that."

"What's so important about maintaining individual clans?"

"Every clan has different customs. Rites of passage, rules of behavior, battle songs—all unique. That diversity makes us great. No clan, not even mine, was meant to survive on its own. Our culture may be the primary one, but every clan has its unique assets. The best tacticians are Urdnot. Jorgal has the longest breeding line. Gatatog holds the oldest settlement. Others have their own strengths. The point is—if we keep going how we are, the clans will end up as craters under nuclear haze. Even Urdnot. We need to rethink. Restart. That's the perspective I bring to my people. _Most of them_ appreciate it."

Shepard inquired, "What do the women of Clan Urdnot think about this plan? You mentioned sharing the fertile females in a neutral area."

"It was our female clan chief's idea," justified Wrex. "The neutral area is safe, and it encourages more female clans to ally with us. Attacks on Urdnot now endanger the females of all clans. Even clans that want to see me dead will defend Clan Urdnot."

"Your women have their own clan structure?"

"Nothing is more valuable than a fertile female. We know it. They know it. They isolate themselves for their own protection. We work together to set up breeding alliances. I can hardly do anything without Clan Chief Uta's approval."

"This sounds ambitious. I tried to find out more about your people on my own, but there's not a lot of literature out there about Tuchanka. How's everything going so far?"

Wrex responded, "Better than I'd feared. Worse than I'd hoped. You won't find much to read about us, either. Not just because we aren't scholars. We've lost hope for our home, for things to get better. I'm giving them that hope you and Liara helped me find years ago. And I've made many enemies with my vision. But krogan are judged by the strength of our enemies. Our worst insult is to say someone's _not worth killing."_

"I get what you mean," replied Shepard. "I'm glad you're moving forward with this, Wrex. If there's anything I can do to help out someday, let me know."

"You're a friend of the krogan, Shepard. I'll be in contact if anything comes up. Now, what's this business you have on Tuchanka with Dr. Mordin? You mentioned something about the Blood Pack in your email."

"We're looking for another salarian. He was captured by the Blood Pack and brought here."

"My scout commander can direct you. He's probably near the perimeter running target practice. Don't take too much of his time, though. I need a constant watch on the other clans. He'll show you the way to one of our trucks. You'll get to where you need to go in no time."

"Thanks for the information, Wrex. It's a shame you can't come with us."

Wrex grunted in disappointment. "Now's not a good time. I have to stay here as clan chief. But I did make a promise to Ashley, about joining up again to fight the Reapers. No matter what happened with her, I plan on keeping that promise. Once the war is on, give me a call. I'll be back on the _Normandy."_

"I'll be sure to do that," vowed Shepard. "For today, it sounds like you'll have some company. I'm heading off with Mordin and Miranda to see about the Blood Pack. The others will stay here with you." She looked to Kaidan, Tali, and Garrus. "Didn't Joker say he'd stop by, too? What's taking him so long?"

Kaidan frowned, replying, "He's taking his sweet time. But he'll be here soon enough."

"We'll wait for him," said Garrus. "You three go on ahead. Call us if you need backup."

Tali avoided eye contact, wishing to stay behind anyway. She did seem unfocused today.

"I have a request first," declared Wrex. "Shepard, we need to talk. One-on-one. Then you can leave to find my scout and the truck. I've been meaning to chat with you alone for a while."

Shepard shrugged. "Sure, we can talk if you want."

Garrus had to get his joke in: "Well, Wrex, it's a good thing you're not driving them. If the Mako's anything to go by, there's a high chance of a mission failure with you behind the wheel."

Kaidan laughed. "I heard about that, you know. Who knew so much could change from Wrex crashing the Mako not once, but twice? Sounds like two of the defining moments in your career."

Wrex grumbled, "Yeah, yeah—laugh it up. The next time I crash a truck, Shepard'll save the galaxy again. Just you watch. Now go on, get out of here. Wait somewhere else while I have a talk with her."

As he sent everyone away, Wrex appeared to make a point of not looking at me. I could only wonder why. But that one thing made me stay a little closer to his area with Shepard, attempting to overhear. Mordin and the others didn't notice my efforts, already engaged in conversation. They noticed that the varren had stayed behind—Shepard's new friend had now curled up along her combat boots, lounging there with this special allowance. Wrex didn't mind at all, speaking to our commander in private.

And I was just close enough to hear them:

"Shepard," said Wrex.

"Wrex," said Shepard.

Wrex laughed a little. "I've missed that, too," he shared. "Sometimes a back-and-forth between us gets stuck in my head. It's pretty funny." Then he fell back to seriousness: "Maybe this is none of my business. But I've gotta at least try. Tali hasn't been at her best in a while. She keeps dodging the problem, thinking I can't figure it out. I've always known. You know what I'm talking about, don't you?"

"Yeah, I know what you mean."

"Well, before you got here, I had a whole speech ready. I was gonna say that Tali doesn't need to be the alpha female. That she's been with us almost since day one, and she still has a place with you. Then I saw Miranda by your side. I felt that _lightning_ between you two, Shepard. It's like a storm struck me, hard. She's a force of nature. There's a special vibe you give off with her around. Caught me off-guard."

Shepard almost didn't want to know—"What vibe are you talking about, Wrex?"

"Miranda's the real deal. Isn't she?"

When Shepard gave no response, I felt my stomach sink in a sudden sea of nerves.

But Wrex could see her facial expression. I couldn't.

He hummed in thoughtfulness. "I got the sense that Ashley or Liara would've gone for something like this. A threesome thing—you know. Kept expecting it to happen on the last mission. Those girls were crazy about you, and Tali still is. I'm wondering where you stand on that today. Do you want her?"

Shepard was unusually forthright: "I'll always be attracted to her. Tali means a lot to me. That's never going to change. But I'm more worried about her emotional state these days. I don't want to hurt her."

"And if I'd suggested the whole threesome to you with Miranda and Tali, what would you have said?"

"I would've told you that I won't allow it. I'm not interested."

_What?!_

Oblivious to my shock, Wrex hummed again. "Then if you don't mind me asking—how deep is it with Miranda? I've never seen you like this, Shepard. Not even when we'd crack those fire jokes all the time. It was love at first sight, wasn't it? And I mean before you found out about all the stuff she did for you."

Heart pounding, I listened with greater care as Shepard revealed, "Yeah…it was. If I'm completely honest with myself, then you're right. When I woke up again, Miranda was the first person I saw. I didn't have any concept of Ash or whoever else at the time. I could only perceive her. That single moment redefined me, psychologically. I couldn't realize the truth until later on. I would've gone for her no matter what."

"You plan on providing for her? Being that dependable figure in Miranda's life. For the long-haul."

"…are you asking if I want to marry her? In human terms."

Wrex chuckled.

"That's the translation I'm looking for," he confirmed. "We krogan men provide for our vulnerable females. Like I mentioned before, our females are endangered—especially the fertile ones—and they have to stay safe. If a man wants to be in a woman's life, he has to go the extra mile to protect her. The more willing he is to die for her, the more passionate he is, and the more he loves her. Other men will know to stay far away from his woman. I'm not saying Miranda's fragile or vulnerable. I'm sure she could kick my ass any day. I'm just wondering if that's what you plan on being for her. That idea."

The longer Shepard went without responding, the more blood and heat I felt rushing to my face.

Kaidan gave me a curious look, clearly wondering what I'd started blushing over. As fervent as this show of mine was, he must've assumed I'd started thinking about Shepard—physically, sexually. Once he realized this assumption, he quickly looked away from me, his own face growing red. Oblivious as well, Garrus waved his hand in front of Kaidan's face, attempting to bring his attention back, to no avail.

Mordin and Tali had no idea what this was about. They simply stared at Kaidan in their confusion.

And then Wrex made his own logical assumptions: "Then again, I guess you've already made yourself clear. I heard about your injuries from a little while ago. You shielded Miranda from that biotic charge. It could've killed you. You were in a coma instead. Were you prepared to die for your woman, Shepard?"

Perfectly decisive—"Yes, Wrex. I was."

"I understand your feelings, then. In krogan terms. You have my full support. I'll keep this talk private."

"Thanks… I should go. I'll be back after we finish Mordin's mission."

"Watch yourself, Shepard. Tuchanka isn't safe and homey, like Feros and Ilos. The Blood Pack know you're with me. They won't be happy. But you can handle them."

Drifting across some far-off space, I'd nearly lost track of where I was.

Once I felt Shepard's hand over mine again—protective—I came back down to Tuchanka, so to speak.

We left with Mordin to pay the scout commander a visit. Yet even as Shepard inquired after more information on Mordin's student, I wasn't all there. I understood that Maelon was with Clan Weyrloc, who'd started the Blood Pack; that we were to take the nearby truck down the highway to the clan's base—an old hospital, apparently. Wrex's scout speculated that the mercs had captured Maelon to torture him in that hospital. Likely as revenge for the salarians and their role with the genophage.

As we left to the truck, Shepard's varren friend knew to stay behind. He did seem quite sad about it.

Endearing in her concern, Shepard knelt down to pet him one more time. "We'll see you later."

Considerate, she then helped me into the truck first. Even if she couldn't look at me, as shy as she was.

* * *

I spent our ride down the highway attempting to find my bearings again. We had our mission. We had to help Mordin find his student. I couldn't lose my focus, fantasizing about what Shepard had said earlier—and what she hadn't said.

If anything, I saw this as another reason to proceed with my romantic plans for us—our upcoming getaway on Illium. After all these years I'd spent longing for her…it finally felt as if everything was about to pay off. We just had to get through this mission first. Thus I dedicated myself to seeing this through.

At the end of the highway, I exited the truck with Shepard and Mordin. We had to walk the rest of the way to that hospital's entrance. Through a door, we arrived at the wasteland of Tuchanka's outskirts, of this stone path beneath a collapsed highway up above. The scattered debris and wreckage everywhere would suffice as our cover during combat. Off in the clouded, polluted distance, the taller, forgotten structures of krogan architecture peered through this sandy storm, looming there as mirages. The near-solar eclipse of the sun's rays desperately tried to shine through the contamination clogging the air.

As informal as this mission was, Shepard had no need to give us any direct orders. I knew to take point. Mordin knew to follow me. And we expected Shepard to remain cloaked near the back, covering for us as necessary. Mordin and I worked together to burn through the pockets of Tuchanka's aggressive wildlife that attacked us. He started the flames with his Incinerate; I set them off as detonating flames with my Overload. The fire explosions served us well, helping us push through with ease. Not to mention Shepard sniping anything that got too close. Compared to Horizon, this was practically a vacation for us.

We only ran into a minor problem once we found the Blood Pack themselves.

Those vorcha kept firing their long-range rockets at us. Annoyingly, Mordin and I were forced to remain behind cover while Shepard dealt with them. She kept us safe from the many charging krogan around as well. The pyromaniac vorcha left themselves vulnerable with those gas tanks over their backs—Shepard was brutal enough to shoot those instead, detonating explosions on the crowd. Anything that didn't go down from her sniper rifle burned from Mordin's flames with me.

We made quick work of these mercs outside, arriving to the hospital in record time.

Shepard bypassed the security on the front door, letting us inside first.

I wasn't sure why I expected more cleanliness and sterility from this place. Emptiness of cracked stone and steel everywhere, the building looked just as abused and abandoned as the rest of the planet. This felt more like a shelter from Tuchanka's nuclear civil wars in the past. Not an actual hospital.

"Repurposed krogan hospital," mentioned Mordin. "Sturdy. Built to withstand punishment."

He led the way down the stairs, finding a dead human body there.

"That body. Human. Need to take a look." Mordin performed a scan with his omni-tool, his face alight from the luminous blue of the holographic skeleton. "Sores, tumors, ligatures showing restraint at wrists and ankles. Track marks for repeated injection sites. Test subject. Victim of experimentation."

I asked, "Is there any way to tell who he was?"

"No tattoos or ID. Maybe slave or prisoner. Maybe merc or pirate. Irrelevant now. Clearly part of krogan tests to cure genophage. Humans useful as test subjects. Genetically diverse. Enables exploration of treatment modalities."

Shepard nearly sounded outraged—"Experimenting on humans? That kind of bullshit is what makes Cerberus start to seem like a good idea!"

Rather offended, despite myself, I folded my arms and articulated: "My report will mention that."

She paused. Almost as if she felt like an ass. But only for my sake, not wishing to offend me personally.

On a purely visceral level, Shepard had gone from feeling neutral toward Cerberus, to actively hating us.

After her decisions with Tali, I began to see her thoughts: exactly how and why she'd changed her mind.

The Illusive Man would hear from me again later. After the mission.

Mordin continued on, "Never used humans myself. Disgusting, unethical, sloppy. Used by brute-force researchers, not thinkers. No place in proper science. Krogan use of humans unsurprising. Humans more variable. Peaks and valleys, mutations, adaptations. Far beyond other life. Makes humans more useful test subjects. Larger reactions to smaller stimuli."

Shepard had never mentioned this directly, though I suspected Mordin had his own hands in the genophage. Certainly not the original creation of it—but something related. I believed this was why he was uncomfortable bringing the others along. And yet he trusted me without needing to say a word.

Seeing as we were all in agreeable company, Shepard was frank in saying, "I imagine you had to do some live-subject testing while developing the new genophage."

The genophage modification project from the Salarian Special Tasks Group. Re-sterilizing the krogan before they could adapt to the previous genophage strand, preventing a population explosion.

Mordin and his student Maelon must have taken part in it.

No wonder he didn't want the others to know.

Wrex in particular would've been far less friendly if he'd found out.

"No," replied Mordin. "Unnecessary. Limited tests to simulations, corpses, cloned tissue samples. High-level tests on varren. No tests on species with members capable of calculus. Simple rule. Never broke it."

"What can you tell about their experiments from looking at the body?"

"Position of tumors suggests deliberate mutation of adrenal, pineal glands. Modifying hormone levels. Counterattacks on glands hit by genophage. Clever."

Shepard wondered, "Do you think they're close to curing the genophage?"

"Can't say. Need more data. Conceptually sound, though. Genophage alters hormone levels. Could repair damage with hormonal counterattack."

"We need to shut this place down. Let's find Maelon."

"Yes," agreed Mordin. "Too late to help the dead."

Shepard gestured for me to resume taking point.

I did so, pressing on through the hospital.

These lights shining in from the broken structure lit the way forward. All that haze and smoke filtering through made the lights seem ethereal. Heavenly. All as another illusion. Because once we made it to the next area, I found reality again—along with the Blood Pack from Clan Weyrloc upstairs, above us.

A group of krogan and vorcha passed through the door.

And a sanctimonious krogan among them shouted his speech at us:

"I am the speaker for Clan Weyrloc, offworlders! You have shed our blood. By rights, you should be dead already. But Weyrloc Guld, the Chief of Chiefs, has ordered that you be given leave to flee and spread the message of our coming."

Shepard humored him, "Krogan don't generally let people go. What does Clan Weyrloc have planned?"

"If you walk away now, you can tell your children that you saw Clan Weyrloc before our Blood Pack conquered the stars! You think the Urdnot impressive? They are pitiful. Weyrloc Guld will destroy them! The salarian will cure the genophage, and Clan Weyrloc will spread across the galaxy in a sea of blood!"

Mordin worried, "Appears they discovered Maelon's work. Unfortunate."

Shepard warned, "If you care about the future of Clan Weyrloc, you'll hand over Maelon. Now."

The krogan went on and on—"When we cure the genophage, Weyrloc Guild will rule all krogan! The Krogan Rebellions will become the Krogan Empire—!"

Patience extinguished, Shepard aimed her sidearm in his direction. "You talk too much."

She shot her gun at the gas pipe under his feet.

Startled, the krogan played it off by retrieving his own gun, attempting to mock her: "See? The human cannot hit a simple target!" Hearing that warning, that build-up of pressuring gas over him, he had no idea what awaited. Yet his Blood Pack companions smartly backed away, wanting no part of the fallout.

Unblinking, Shepard fired her gun again.

Combusting that gas with the heat of her shot, she set the self-righteous krogan aflame. Screaming and scorching, she burned him alive without remorse. He then collapsed to the ground as an ashen corpse.

We dealt with the remaining krogan and vorcha mercs in our way. Just like the ones outside, Mordin and I burned as many as we could, cutting off their health from regenerating the damage. Shepard sniped the others, even in the limited space in this room. Once they were all gone, I again led the way ahead.

Mordin soon caught up to me. "Labs likely through here. Can smell antiseptic, hint of dead flesh."

He was right—we soon found the labs, looking as run-down as the rest of the hospital. Such a mess of hazards, displaced ground tiles, craters, and blast residue everywhere. Completely unsanitary. Whoever had performed actual experiments in here must not have been of sound mind, caring little for the subjects involved. This was completely barbaric.

As I found a computer terminal nearby, Mordin went to examine it.

"Active console," he said. "May contain useful data. One moment." Typing away, Mordin searched through the databases. "Genetic sequences. Hormone mutagens still steady. Protein chains, live tissue, cloned tissue. Very thorough." Shepard went over to his side, taking a look for herself. "Standard treatment vectors. Avoiding scorched-earth immuno-suppressants to alter hormone levels. Good. Hate to see that."

Shepard challenged, "Most people wouldn't be so casual about developing a sterility plague, Mordin."

"Not developing," justified Mordin. "Modifying. Much more difficult. Working within confines of existing genophage. A hundred times the complexity. Errors unacceptable. Could cause total sterility, malignant tumors. Could even reduce effectiveness. Worse than doing nothing." That _did_ seem sound, but… "Had to keep krogan population stable. One in one thousand. Perfect target, optimal growth. Like gardening."

I couldn't accept that. "Murder is murder, especially on this scale. Doesn't matter how you spin it."

"No. Murdered no one. Altered fertility, prevented fetal development of nervous system. Have killed many, Miranda. Many methods. Gunfire, knives, drugs, tech attacks. Once with farming equipment. But not with medicine."

"Was it truly that important to keep the krogan population stable, then?"

"Yes," he insisted. "Could have eradicated krogan. Not difficult. Increased mutation to degrade genetic structure further. Chose not to. Rachni extinction tragic. Didn't want to repeat. All life precious. Universe demands diversity."

"Well, I'm curious now," I said. "You never shared any information about this with me. What was it like, working on this genophage modification project?"

Mordin smiled in nostalgia. "Best years of my life! Wake up with ideas. Talk over breakfast. Experiments all morning. Statistical analysis in afternoon. Run new simulations during dinner, set data runs to cook overnight. Laughter. Ego. Argument. Passion. Galaxy's biggest problem, massive resources thrown at us. Got anything we wanted."

That did sound a lot like my work with Cerberus in years past. So I could relate in that sense.

Shepard asked, "Do you keep in touch with your old team members?"

"No. All changed with deployment. Made test drop on isolated krogan clan. Hit rest of Tuchanka when results were positive. End of project. Separate ways. Watching it end, watching birth rates drop. Personal. Private. Not appropriate for team."

"Sounds like you were pretty important. How'd you go from that to running a clinic on Omega?"

"Wanted to heal people," shared Mordin. "Good use of last decade. Something easy. No ethical concerns. Understand rationale for modified genophage. Right choice. Still hard to sleep some nights."

"Then how can you agree with using the genophage, Mordin? Look at what happened to Tuchanka."

"State of Tuchanka not due to genophage. Common misconception. Nuclear winter caused by krogan before salarians made first contact. Krogan choices. Refuse truce during Krogan Rebellions. Expand after Rachni Wars. Splinter after genophage. Genophage medical, not nuclear. No craters from virus. Damage caused by krogan, not salarians. Not me."

Shepard clearly had Wrex's struggles on her mind—"Even if that's true, the causes and effects of the genophage still ripple out to this day. This virus keeps them in barbarism—you have to know that."

Mordin continued to deflect blame—"Krogan committed war crimes. Refused to negotiate. Turian defeat not complete. Krogan could have recovered, attacked again. Conventional war too risky. Krogan forces too strong. Genophage was only option. Krogan forced genophage. Us or them. No apologies for winning. Wouldn't have minded peaceful solution."

"So if the krogan banded together and formed a united government, like what Wrex is trying to do, you'd welcome that?"

"Yes. United krogan saved galaxy, destroyed rachni. Genophage not punishment. Simply alters fertility to correct for removal from hostile environment."

Pushing her frustration away, Shepard declared, "It's clear you've made up your mind. We're not going to find Maelon staring at consoles. Come on."

In the next room, we found a series of medical beds.

Lying atop one of them was a krogan body, covered from view, with a datapad sitting nearby.

Mordin went to examine the remains.

"Dead krogan. Female. Tumors indicate experimentation. No restraint marks. Volunteer. Sterile Weyrloc female willing to risk procedures. Hoped for cure. Pointless. Pointless waste of life."

Shepard spoke my thoughts: "I didn't expect you to be disturbed by the sight of a dead krogan."

"What? Why?" asked Mordin, offended. "Because of genophage work? Irrelevant. No, causative. Never experimented on live krogan. Never killed with medicine! Her death not my work, only reaction to it. Goal was to stabilize population, as explained. Never wanted this. Can see it logically…but still unnecessary. Foolish waste of life. Hate to see it."

"Did you come to Tuchanka after dropping your plague? To see the effects of what happened?"

"Yearly recon missions. Water, tissue samples. Ensure no mistakes. Superiors offered to carry it on. Refused. Need to see it in-person. Need to look. Need to see. Accept it as necessary. See small picture. Remind myself why I ran clinic on Omega." Mordin then held his hand out near the body, offering what sounded like a surprising prayer: "Rest, young mother. Find your gods. Find someplace better."

"I didn't expect spirituality from you, Mordin."

"Genophage modification project altered millions of lives. Then saw results. Ego, humility, juxtaposition. Frailty of life. Size of universe. Explored religions after work completed. Different races. No answers. Many questions."

Shepard recognized the truth. "Sounds like you were trying to deal with your guilty conscience. The doctor who killed millions."

Mordin perhaps agreed. "Modified genophage project great in scope. Scientifically brilliant. But ethically difficult. Krogan reaction visceral, tragic. Not guilty, but responsible. Trained as doctor. Genophage affects fertility. Doesn't kill. Still caused this. Hard to see big picture behind pile of corpses."

"Can you rationalize it away just like that? How do you justify it?"

"Wheel of life. Popular salarian concept. Similar to human Hinduism in focus on reincarnation. Appealing to see life as endless. Fix mistakes in next life. Learn, adapt, improve. Refuse to believe life ends here. Too wasteful. Have more to offer. Mistakes to fix. Cannot end here. Could do so much more."

"If you need this much soul-searching to get over it, maybe the genophage was wrong."

"Had to be done," rationalized Mordin. "Rachni Wars, Krogan Rebellions all pointed to krogan aggression. So many simulations. Effects of krogan population increase. All pointed to war. Extinction. Genophage or genocide. Save galaxy from krogan. Save krogan from galaxy."

Shepard seemed as if she had more arguments to make. More disagreements to bring up.

She saw no point in debating with Mordin on this any further. He wouldn't listen.

Sensing her feelings on the matter, Mordin lowered his head in shame. In defeat.

Her silence spoke enough to him.

I got the hint well enough to continue on ahead. Shepard and Mordin followed behind me as before.

As we pushed through the hospital, fighting more Blood Pack mercs, I saw the parallels to my own situation. Mordin's fact-based justifications for the genophage mirrored my worst habits, my worst rationalizations in times of distress. Telling myself that something was _necessary_ usually helped to absolve myself of guilt. I had done the same in my previous decisions with Shepard and Ashley, during that harrowing two-year period. And I had done it again more recently, in my about-face on making these exceptions with Shepard, with our relationship down the line.

If the Illusive Man had never showed me those troubling data points, convincing me that I was compromised, I wouldn't feel the way I did today.

I wouldn't have pissed Shepard off, either.

As sharp as she was, the reality was now clear—she'd suspected what the Illusive Man had done, and why. She'd figured it out. She knew that I hadn't made this decision of my own accord. She wouldn't stand by and let me destroy myself over the data, and the simulations about this third person with us.

Of course I didn't want any repeats of the past, if I somehow turned Shepard against me…

I wanted to keep her safe.

But I also couldn't afford to insult her intelligence like this today. _She knew,_ and she was still here.

That had to mean more than anything. And it did.

Shepard's determination to be patient with me spoke such volumes.

We proceeded through the hospital, downstairs and across a series of elevated pathways. At some point near the end, we encountered Chief Weyrloc Guld, a prominent leader of the Blood Pack. But there was no fanfare about it, as Shepard put him down with one shot, ending his battle cries without incident. None of these mercs were a match for her concentration and precision. This was child's play for her.

Past the final door at the hospital's lowest level, we discovered a larger lab. At the back of the room was a wide display, glowing orange in the poor lighting, flanked by more medical beds on either side. Right in front of that display was a single salarian in a lab coat, working at the console in diligence.

Mordin approached the younger salarian. "Maelon," he said. "Alive. Unharmed." His assistant turned around to look at us, before continuing to work. "No signs of restraint. No evidence of torture. Don't understand."

Taunting, Maelon fired back at him in a sniveling voice—"For such a smart man, Professor, you always had trouble seeing evidence that disagreed with your preconceptions." He turned to face us properly, speaking on in defiance: "How long will it take you to admit that I'm here because I wish to be here?"

Shepard knew. "This isn't a rescue operation. He came here on his own to cure the genophage."

Maelon nodded emphatically.

Startled and enraged, Mordin scolded him, "Impossible. Whole team agreed! Project necessary!"

"How was I supposed to disagree with the great Doctor Solus?! I was your student! I looked up to you!"

"Experiments performed here. Live subjects! Prisoners! Torture and executions. Your doing?"

Maelon defended himself—"We've already got the blood of millions on our hands, Doctor. If it takes a bit more to put things right, I can deal with that."

Shepard questioned, "You honestly think the experiments you did here are justified?"

"We committed cultural genocide! Nothing I do will ever be justified! The experiments are monstrous…because I was taught to be a monster."

"Mordin, did you ever perform experiments like this? You said you _didn't_ work on live krogan."

"No," said Mordin. "Never taught you this, Maelon."

Maelon argued, "So your hands are clean! What does it matter if the ground is stained with the blood of millions?! You taught me that the ends justified the means. I will undo what we did, Professor. The only way I know how. Because don't you see? We tried to play god, and we failed! We only made things worse…and I'm going to fix it."

Shepard asked, "Then why work with Clan Weyrloc? And how did you access the genophage data?"

"The data was easy to obtain. We all still had clearance. We were heroes. All we had to do was ask… As for the Weyrloc, they were the only clan with both the resources and the commitment. I know you're here with Clan Urdnot. But Wrex is too soft. He wasn't willing to do the experiments I needed. It's Urdnot's loss and Weyrloc's gain. Their clan will be the first to recover from the crime we committed."

"Mordin, what do you want to do? We're getting nowhere with this."

Mordin decided—"Have to end this."

Panicked, Maelon pulled a paltry gun on us. "You can't face the truth, can you? Can't admit that your brilliant mind led you to commit an atrocity—!"

Enraged, Mordin struck his student, pushing him back through the console, against the far wall.

He then pulled out his own gun, aiming it at Maelon's head, intimidating:

"Unacceptable experiments. Unacceptable goals. Won't change. No choice. Have to kill you."

That deer in headlights look from Maelon was the last I saw of him.

Shepard and I watched as Mordin shot right through his head, blood spattering against the wall.

Cold and clinical, Mordin corrected the record: "Apologies, Commander. Miranda. Misunderstood mission parameters. No kidnapping. My mistake. Thank you."

Shepard wished to know, "Is there anything else we need to do here?"

"Maelon's research," said Mordin, checking the nearby console. "Only loose end. Could destroy it. Closure, security. Still valuable, though."

"If you think it could be useful, why not hang onto it?"

"Worked for years to create modified genophage. Should destroy this. Maelon's work could cure genophage. Don't know. Effects on krogan. Effects on galaxy. Too many variables. Too many variables!"

Shepard made the executive decision: "There's nothing wrong with keeping it. Save the data."

"Point taken, Shepard," accepted Mordin. "Capturing data. Wiping local copy. Still years away from cure. But closer than starting from scratch." He shut down the console. "Done. Ready to go. Ready to be off Tuchanka. Anywhere else. Maybe somewhere sunny. Your hometown appealing location."

"We can head to San Diego a little later on. Miranda wants to go to Illium first. We have a couple of other squad members to recruit there."

"Yes, of course. Illium fine location. Asari ingenuity. Popular cultural center. Gateway to Terminus Systems, along with questionable caste practices and trade legalities. Might go shopping for relevant literature on spirituality in meantime. Looking forward to meeting new team members."

I informed them, "We shouldn't have a problem with those potential recruits. One of my most trusted contacts will have more information about their whereabouts. Not to mention, Commander, I'd also like us to speak with Shiala, the asari disciple you met on Feros. My sources tell me that she's on Illium as well. I'd like her guidance on how things have progressed with your protections. It should be helpful to have her confirmation on a few things as well."

"I get what you mean," said Shepard. "Let's get out of here. I've had enough of this hospital."

* * *

After returning to Wrex's camp, Shepard decided to stay with him, Garrus, Tali, Kaidan, and Joker. Mordin and I went ahead back to the ship, allowing the old team to spend this time together. We spent the shuttle ride in a distant, yet respectful silence. Mordin had much on his mind, just as I did. Our upcoming excursion to Illium couldn't have come at a better time for us both.

I made my way to the comm room as soon as possible.

And then I called the Illusive Man via the QEC, knowing that he would pick up.

If for some reason he chose not to, then he could expect a strongly-worded email from me instead. I'd never expected to send my boss such a nastygram, and yet here I was.

Luckily, he decided to accept the call. I reappeared in this vivid space, finding the Illusive Man's cigarette smoke obfuscating the sights.

"Miranda. I wasn't expecting to hear from you again so soon. What is it that you need?"

 _"The truth,_ that's what," I scoffed. "But first, you should know—Shepard and I won't be proceeding with that arrangement with Tali. The commander has yet to communicate this to me directly. I already know which decision she's made. And I agree with her choice. Whatever happens in the future, it has to be dependent on our bond and our bond alone. I can't count on someone else's influence to _save her."_

The Illusive Man gave a sound of satisfaction. As if he'd planned this all along.

"So it would seem. I understand your reasoning. It should only be you. _One mind, one master._ You are correct."

"Then why suggest otherwise in the first place? Why would you even put that idea in my head?! You knew I'd drive myself insane, worrying about this and that, constantly… Why did you push me into this?"

He said nothing in response.

All he did was smoke his cigarette anew, breaths blowing out as that hazy mist.

"Sir, was this some sort of test for Shepard? Is that it?"

Cinders lighting up near his lips, the Illusive Man lingered in that inhale. Purposeful, thoughtful.

Pissing me off all over again.

"Or are you _trying_ to push me away from you!? Better yet, is it both? Do you have an agenda with this?"

The Illusive Man refused to answer me.

He just…stared into my eyes. Riddling with his fixed gaze. Smoke clouding his intentions more and more.

Even though he wouldn't say a word, I knew.

The answer to my questions was obvious.

The longer I stared back at him, the more I feared what he had done. I was too terrified to look back any further; to question if this was the _first time._ I worried that the Illusive Man had been doing this for much, much longer—perhaps for all these years we'd worked together—and I'd simply never noticed.

That possibility revealed itself even more once I ended the call.

He didn't fight the issue. He let me hang up on him. He expected my anger. He expected everything. And he took it without complaint. Without scolding me in response.

Alone in this silence of the comm room, I considered the weight of my fears. At this time, I couldn't fathom the rest. I couldn't question the Illusive Man any further than this scenario, anywhere beyond this current situation. Though my bond with Shepard had been restored, I lamented the possible decay of this other bond…with my boss. The one man I'd counted on for my entire adult life. The one person who'd given me a true purpose in life by believing in me. Giving me these opportunities. Allowing me to work as hard as I could to rise up on my own, well past my previous traumas and limitations.

Yet with or without saying a word, Shepard demanded my full loyalty to her.

She expected me to be better than this. I expected her to do the same for me.

This fire, this love she gave me meant far more than anything. And she had conceded her mind to my care, to my rule, trusting me above all. And even though I couldn't move past these fears today—even though I couldn't dare look down into the abyss of the truth—I accepted that I would have to do so eventually. Taking these small, important steps toward that eventuality, I needed Shepard by my side.

As I touched this collar over my neck, I felt these other needs. I needed to be worthy of her trust. Her consideration.

I needed to be the only one she would've died for again.


	40. Eternity

_"Summers Lost" from Final Fantasy XI_

**XL.** Eternity

_(Shepard)_

Today was the first day of spring back on Earth. The northern hemisphere, anyway. The opposite was true in Australia, in Brisbane, where Miranda was from—that southern hemisphere instead. But as far as I knew from my own research, her hometown was a lot like mine. Relatively perfect temperatures, leaning on the warmer side. Pristine beaches everywhere. And a popular tourist location. I'd learned all about this as I browsed the extranet at my desk, in my room. Taking a little bit more time to myself.

I wondered if Miranda would ever want to go back to her hometown someday. Just to visit. She didn't seem all that attached to the place. If anything, since her father still lived there, she'd probably blocked it out of her mind. But it was part of her. I'd have to see how she felt about it some other time.

For now, we were on our way to her chosen home. In a few more hours, the _Normandy_ would arrive to Illium: the asari's grand, rich colony world at the gateway to the Terminus Systems, outside asari space, known for its robust trade economy, questionable business practices, and overall loose regulations. Outside the purview of Council space and all those pesky _laws,_ Illium inevitably reminded me of Noveria: how the trade barons and business people made a fortune from all those loopholes.

Aside from our plans to pick up two new recruits, I'd already given the team permission to have extended shore leave here. I definitely expected us to have an interesting time on this colony.

As I'd taken this final time to myself, I'd let go of that earlier rage of mine. I'd moved past my anger with Miranda, exactly as I knew I would. I never would have for anyone else. And I was finally able to read her handwritten letter with open eyes, from when I had been in that coma:

_Shepard,_

_Your letter surprised me._

_More so because you aren't awake now. You can't wake up. Not yet._

_To say that this is devastating would be an understatement. In theory, I will always be grateful to you. I adore the idea of what you did. There was only one other time in my life when someone sacrificed themselves for me…and he died, then. Perhaps I'm re-experiencing that trauma. Except it's much worse with you. There's so much riding on your life, Shepard. You're a hero to the galaxy. And you are a hero to me. If not for your influence, I'm positive I would have ended up just like my father. In some respects, I'm not too far off. I couldn't escape everything. But the fact remains that you are my moral compass. Truly._

_I don't know where I would be if not for you. I used to believe it was hell, pining after you for so many years. You didn't know I existed. Just like how my sister doesn't know anything about me. Two of the most important people in my world had no idea who I was. On some days, it made me feel as if I didn't exist at all. Like I wasn't real. Nothing about me was real—not even my humanity. Only my mistakes._

_This gets to such a humiliating core for me._

_The way you treat me—and the way you view me—is part of my identity. It always has been. If you don't know that I exist, then I don't exist. If you don't see me as a real woman, then I am not a real woman. If you aren't awake to observe me, and to find me beautiful, then I cannot be observed by anyone, and I am not beautiful. Your perception of me is everything. You are the center of the universe. And I know what you are, your tendencies… You don't feel entitled to these truths, yet you're well-aware of your importance. You know the power you hold, and you are careful to not abuse that power through your actions. Maybe that's why such abuses are unacceptable to you. You could cross right over that line someday with me. I would let you do it, not realizing or caring about any sort of change, or harm done._

_I am incredibly susceptible to you. Forever have I known this. I used to resist it before. I've since stopped bothering. I've since shifted to my own depravity, having felt this way about you for all these years. I would often fantasize about attracting you to me with this power you hold. The reflection of that power, the promise of that power—I wanted to draw you to me. And I want to keep you with me today, with this influence, with this feeling. I need you to be mine—with no other woman standing in my way. I want you all to myself. Perfectly exclusive. I can't allow anyone or anything to get between us. Not even nature._

_So I need you to wake up soon. Otherwise, I will continue not to exist for as long as you cannot perceive me. I don't like this feeling, yet I can't escape reality. I exist because you allow it. And I will end if and only if you demand it. And I will feel this way for you…for all eternity. Whether you love me back or not._

_Missing you,_

_Miranda_

.

I stared at her letter some more.

Especially the last paragraph. These final words that I'd somehow skipped over before in my rage. Including that unspoken word from her. That unexpected mention of love. That same mention the two of us seemed destined to not speak aloud—at least not for a long time. I hadn't noticed it until now. And now that I had, these emotions heating my face spoke the obvious.

The obviousness of my neglect. I had neglected her without realizing.

Not just recently. All this time. All these years. All this time, and all these years she'd spent without me.

Miranda loved me exactly as I'd always needed from someone:

The unconditional to extremes. Her pure devotion through darkness—even in situations that she should have feared. That devotion from her inspired me away from that darkness, from those possibilities. At least in the light. When we started discussing the fetishes we needed—which I knew would happen soon—then that would be different. Beyond that, this devotion of hers remained. And this dedication from her would keep me by her side. Whatever disagreements we had would diminish in comparison.

Exactly as they diminished now.

I looked up at the area surrounding my desk. I had put those model ships from the Migrant Fleet back on their displays. Elsewhere, I had turned around that picture of Tali and me, setting it back to normal. It was only a peripheral response, signaling my own decisions to my room and my room alone. I had made those decisions before—almost throwing Tali away—out of pure anger. Knowing what else I'd almost done in that anger, it made no sense for me to carry on in the same ways.

I had to be better than that. Or I at least wanted to try.

Glancing at another peripheral—my violet game controller on my table by the couch—I had an idea.

I knew Miranda was still busy with work, wrapping up a few things before shore leave. We had plenty of time before reaching Illium, too. So I sent her a message, smiling once she replied almost right away:

_[12:23:30] Me: How are you doing? You okay?_

_[12:24:12] Miranda: Yes, Shepard. I'm doing all right. What about you?_

_[12:24:29] Me: I'm just fine. Do you have any plans for Illium? Aside from our date tomorrow._

_[12:24:56] Miranda: I have a few errands I'd like to handle today. I planned on doing this once we touch down. Do you still plan on unshackling EDI to install her in that new body?_

_[12:25:18] Me: Yes, I will. I'll do it once everyone leaves the ship. And while you handle those errands. For now, I'm wondering how busy you are. I want to see you._

_[12:25:40] Miranda: I'd love for you to stop by. Unless you'd rather stay a bit longer. I'm nearly finished with work. What are you in the mood for?_

_[12:26:09] Me: I thought I could stay with you until it's time to go. We could spend some time together. I'm finally in the mood to play my N7 game again. They somehow patched in the Collectors as a new enemy faction. The enemies and their tactics are apparently legit, according to the Alliance._

_[12:26:30] Miranda: Well, that's fascinating. And troubling at the same time. I'm incredibly curious now. Maybe I can learn more to add to our report on them. You should bring your game with you. Or at least your controller. Think you can get everything set up while I finish with work?_

_[12:26:43] Me: Yes, babe. I'll be down in a few minutes._

_[12:26:54] Miranda: I'm excited to spend this time with you. I'll see you soon._

* * *

Optimistic, I brought my controller with me to Miranda's office. The whole way there, I had the craziest sensation, everywhere. I had a sudden, spontaneous idea, and I wanted to go for it. I didn't want to wait any longer. I didn't want her to think that I'd sit on something like this. Even if the timing wasn't 'romantic'.

Spur-of-the-moment as it was, I hoped Miranda would appreciate the surprise.

When I entered the door, that scent of everlasting roses filled my senses, as ever. Filling more, the sight of Miranda working at her desk made me smile, as stunning as she was. Beauty eternal kept this sensation sweeping through me once she smiled back. The feeling she gave me kept me confident, kept me assured as I went over to her side. As ready and prepared as I was, I had no doubts about this now.

Towering over Miranda as usual, I leaned down to her. As she'd done before, she was sentimental enough to tilt her head toward me at the best angle, expectant and pleased by me. I loved this feel of her smiling face beneath my lips, the joy about her here. She'd been in a much better mood lately.

"Shepard," she whispered, smiling more.

"Hey, babe." I set my controller on her desk for now. "You said you're almost done with work?"

"Yes, I am," said Miranda, glancing down at my controller in fondness. "It should only take me about twenty minutes or so. Don't you need to download some kind of updates for your virtual console? I'm assuming you haven't played any games since we were last at your apartment."

"You assumed right. Everything will be set to go once you're ready."

"That's good to know. I'm looking forward to watching you play this one in particular."

"I'm glad you are…"

As I was about to say the words, I found that spontaneity definitely wasn't my strong suit.

Miranda noticed. "Hmm, what's the matter?"

"Nothing," I told her, trying to figure this out. "We've had a lot going on lately, haven't we? You seem like you're doing better now. I'm curious as to what changed on your end, if anything."

"I wouldn't say anything's _changed._ Not necessarily. It's more like I've opened my eyes…somewhat."

Hearing Miranda say that gave me hope. For the future.

Even more hope—she resigned herself to locking her terminal early. Stopping with work. Whatever else she'd had to do for Cerberus before shore leave: it suddenly wasn't important to her anymore. As if it ever had been in the first place. I saw that downward turn about her, once Miranda stared down at her lap. Unable to look at me. Unable to explain what the problem was. But I could guess enough on my own.

I got down on one knee at her side, asking, "What is it?"

"I don't know how this all came about," she admitted, calming a bit once I held her hand. "It's all so complicated. I've started questioning everything I knew for the longest. I'm too afraid to dig as deeply as I should. But the process has started nonetheless. And it seems that the only constant in my life…is you. That's always been the case. I'm just now realizing how much. Now that I know, it's rather disorienting."

"It's the same on my end with you. We should talk about this. Don't you think?"

"We should… Our lack of communication has certainly contributed to these feelings of mine. I find myself waiting for you to take the initiative on this. You're taking it now. I'm relieved that you are. Yet I'm not sure what to do with myself. I have no idea how to process any of this information."

"Information about what? Tell me."

Miranda hesitated, stalling—"Maybe you should set up your game first. I'll explain during the wait."

"Okay, then. Let's go lie down together. Why don't you change into something more comfortable?"

"All right…"

Taking my controller with me, I walked with Miranda over to her bed. As skittish as she seemed, she did her best not to show it. While she went to her holo-closet, I pulled the black of her comforter and the white of her sheets aside, making room for us to settle down underneath. I lowered Miranda's screen from the ceiling, sitting over the bed while I set up my virtual console here. The update started without a hitch, estimated to take ten minutes to finish. In the meantime, I did my best not to stare too hard:

Miranda had settled on changing into her nightdress.

By some luck, I forced myself to stay level-headed, seeing her in this black lace. Now really wasn't the time for anything else.

Intuitive as ever, Miranda sensed my restraint as she got into bed with me. It helped her relax, falling into my arms while I sat up against her pillows. I felt her absorbing my strength. Needing this from me. Needing the certainty, the security. Since I was the only constant in her life, Miranda must've flailed while I'd kept my angry distance from her before. So I did my best to make up for that now: holding her close, just right, and making sure she could hear my breaths beneath her ear: even, steady. From her hair beneath the side of my face, I felt the slight tremble about her. Some uncertainty still remained.

"Miranda, I'm here," I soothed. "You can tell me anything. I'm listening. I'm open to you. I promise."

Gathering this courage, she finally admitted: "I don't want you to involve Tali with us… I can't handle it."

"Okay. I plan on confessing to her later today. She won't be happy with me. That'll be enough."

Miranda laughed a bit. "It's that simple, then?"

"Yes, babe. It _is_ that simple."

"…aren't you going to ask me why I changed my mind?"

"I'd like to know. But I won't force you to tell me if you're not comfortable. Besides, I don't think you ever really changed your mind in the first place. I still remember what you told me on our first date."

She relaxed in my arms some more, trusting: "Well, the Illusive Man pulled me away from that… I allowed him to get in my head. He terrified me with certain prospects—about Tali somehow influencing you away from me. I couldn't let that happen. So I made that exception, believing it was for the best."

"You were afraid of losing me," I said.

"Yes… I thought I had to bend my tolerances. Otherwise I risked not getting to be with you at all. I know how important she is to you. I can't compete with that. I felt compromised. I didn't know what to do."

"Why didn't you tell me?"

Not knowing how to respond, Miranda just shook her head over my chest. Hiding away there, uncertain.

I touched her face, pleading, "Hey, look at me." She shook her head again, ashamed. "Miranda, let me see you. I need to. Look at me, _please."_ Believing in us, Miranda moved with my movements, as I guided her away from that hiding. She looked up at me with widened, reddened eyes—hoping, listening: "I hear what you're saying. And I get why you were afraid. I understand completely. I just want you to know you didn't have to do that. Because there is no competition. _You're_ the most important person in my life. No one else." I held her here, firmer, right when she was about to look away in disbelief. "This doesn't have to break us apart. Maybe the lack of communication would have. I knew something was up with you. All I wanted was for you to be honest with me. So we need to trust each other more. A lot more. Okay?"

"Okay… But—you aren't angry with me anymore? It seemed like you were for the longest."

"I'm not angry with you," I promised. "Don't worry about that. I'm not going anywhere."

This uncertainty made Miranda avert her eyes from me. She needed a bit more reassurance.

Hoping for us both, I let the words flow: "I need you to be mine. Officially. Will you be with me?"

"Shepard… I—I must be hearing things. Did you really ask…? Do you mean it? An _actual_ relationship?"

"Miranda, everything that's happened in my life has led me to you. _Everything_ —the good, the bad and in-between. Knowing that even my struggles prepared me for you…it gives my journey meaning. You justify me."

Complete surprise made Miranda return my smile. Laughing gently, her disbelief fell away by the moment.

Making her this happy was the greatest honor for me.

"And my answer is yes," she shared. _"Obviously._ This is the most wonderful gift you've given me. I had actually planned on asking you myself tomorrow. Taking that chance during our date. I wasn't sure if you would ask me yourself. Nor was I certain you would tell _me_ yes. With how things have been lately…"

"Babe, I made you a promise before. I said I would ask you once I was ready. I'm ready for you now. More than ready. I'm committed to you. The issues we had before—I see them as growing pains. I feel like we grew closer. Whatever happens, I'll always come back to you in the end. You can count on me."

For Miranda, relying on me remained critical.

Relying on me to hold her like this, kiss her like this—I gave her exactly what she needed, as I craved.

I touched her with some of my cravings. Hidden, subversive. Miranda moved into me more, moaning in the moment; trusting me, and giving me this vulnerability of hers. Her skin, her body heat, and the contradictory, delicate fitness of her limbs: she warmed up in my hold, temperature rising as I sent her imagination soaring. Miranda couldn't know what was on my own mind. My own thoughts had twisted only on the surface, in needing her so much closer. I wanted Miranda to myself in ways that redefined my authority over her. I wanted to make sure she felt me: that I had to be more important than anyone else in her life, as her only constant. No one else could surpass me. No one else could have a stronger influence over her thoughts, her actions, her tolerances. Not the Illusive Man; definitely not her father.

As subservient as I was, allowing this line of succession, my own power and royalty had to remain clear.

Affection and sweetness blended with this intent of mine. And she felt it. She felt it all over, well inside.

Her submission tasted as the faint traces of tea still lingering in her mouth, as my tongue picked up on.

Her weakness for me felt as the deeper sounds she gave, nerves overstimulated by my possessiveness.

She knew I'd never let myself be like this with anyone else before. But I couldn't help it. Not with her.

Miranda broke her lips away from me, this time in a breathless surprise.

She found the most serious of intentions in my eyes, coated as they were with this timely tenderness.

Just as tender, I stroked her reddened face, asking, "What's on your mind?"

Shifting her waist against the blues of my fatigues—closer, controlled—she didn't know what to say. Yet I knew enough of her reaction. I could smell the truth. Exposed as she was underneath these sheets, I smelled exactly what was on her mind. I smelled it more from this mild tremble of her thighs: how she needed to spread them open for me right now. But she wouldn't; she couldn't. Definitely not like this.

Miranda caught her breath. _"We can't,"_ she whispered. "Not here. At least not in the middle of the day. I don't want someone to overhear us… That isn't the type of humiliation I imagine you giving to me."

"That's fine with me," I said, taking it down a notch. "We can save this topic for later. Will that work?"

"Yes, it will. I'd like us to discuss this soon. For now…why don't you show me your game? I imagine this new enemy faction with the Collectors will have some surprises in-store. I want to watch you learn."

Making a point that this was her decision, Miranda handed me my controller.

I accepted my controller with her choice, with her temporary control, starting up the game now.

I was baffled to find that the initial character on my screen was an N7 Destroyer soldier. This was apparently the last one I had played. I hadn't touched the game since before I died. I didn't remember any of this.

Not wanting to think too much on it, I went to the character selection screen.

Miranda lay over me in a tranquil calm, watching me cycle through the different options.

I included her in the process: "Have anyone in mind for me? Or a certain class?"

"Mmm, I can see you always play infiltrators. Choose something else for a change. As a challenge."

"A challenge on top of playing against a brand new enemy type?"

"Yes, of course. Impress me, Shepard. I know you have it in you."

Miranda's request for me to impress her felt like the real challenge here.

Just when I wasn't sure which character to choose, I had a little more time to think. Legion sent me a simple message: _"Game?"_

"Who is that?" asked Miranda. "Some other N7 Infiltrator?"

"It's Legion asking me to play," I said. "We can have a team of up to four players. Do you want me to?"

"Oh. Well, that's sweet. I'd certainly like to see you both on the same team. Will you speak together over the _Normandy's_ comms? I'm interested in listening to your strategies."

"We can do that. I'll set it up through our omni-tools, on speaker for you to hear."

I got Legion in over the comm.

_"Greetings, Shepard-Commander. We await your invitation."_

"Hey, Legion," I replied, inviting it to a lobby. "Miranda's here with us. She's going to watch me play."

"Hello, Legion," said Miranda.

_"Greetings, Operator Lawson. Do you seek more information on the Collectors for our team's intel?"_

"Yes, actually. This should be a wealth of material for us. Learning through that trial by fire on Horizon was quite the experience. But I'd rather not have another repeat for our next encounter."

_"We agree with your assessment."_

I let Legion know, "I'll make the lobby public once I'm ready. We'll play against the Collectors on Gold."

_"Acknowledged."_

Miranda wondered, "Is Gold the hardest difficulty?"

"It's the second-hardest. The hardest one is Platinum. But that throws other enemy factions in at the same time. We just want to fight the Collectors today. No one else."

"Hmm, I see."

I settled on choosing a sentinel, piquing Miranda's interest. The asari Valkyrie sentinel in particular: tech armor for damage protection and other bonuses, annihilation field to drain enemy barriers and prime biotic explosions, and warp to detonate those explosions. The field was centered on my character, so I had to be up-close and personal to set off solo biotic explosions. With a powerful shotgun, this was definitely an aggressive setup. I figured if I couldn't hang back and snipe as an infiltrator, then I'd go for the exact opposite instead: running and gunning in the enemy's face like a true asari commando would.

I saw that Legion was on its usual geth infiltrator character—very meta. "You all set to go?"

_"Ready."_

Once I geared up with the equipment I wanted, I opened up the lobby for other players to join us.

Two people joined right away: an asari justicar adept, and a drell assassin infiltrator. I saw that they didn't have any equipment on yet. So I waited for them to gear up before readying for the match.

Miranda noticed, "A justicar, really? That seems rather…broken for a video game. Overpowered."

"They're not as strong as the ones in real life. I'm sure the one we're going to pick up on Illium will be way more powerful. If this justicar knows what they're doing, they can set off plenty of biotic explosions on their own. That's what I'll be doing with this Valkyrie."

"Yes, I'm curious to see it. Explain to me how the game works. You just fight against waves of enemies?"

"That's the gist of it," I confirmed, while everyone readied up. "We play on a single map that'll get chosen randomly, since I didn't pick one for us. There are ten waves, with a final extraction wave at the end. It's horde mode where the enemies keep spawning until we kill all of them, with a short break in between waves. Three of the waves have different objectives to complete for credits, like killing enemy targets in time. If we fail an objective, the mission's over. In general, if everyone dies and can't get up, then that's also a mission failure. As long as one person extracts at the end, the mission's a success."

"It does sound simple. Kill the enemies, finish the objectives, and survive all waves. War of attrition."

"Pretty much. Let's see what else these Collectors have going for them. I'm expecting something crazy."

Miranda sounded pleased. "So am I."

Landing on Firebase White in Noveria's snow, I was pleased myself, finding that this was the hazard version of the map. Whiteout winds billowing in this blizzard, I appeared at the landing zone with Legion and our two other teammates. I activated my tech armor and annihilation field, running off ahead up the nearest ramp to the indoor labs, ideally to control the first spawn. I wanted the first set of enemies to appear in the far room downstairs. Thankfully no one ran down there to interrupt the process.

 _"Visibility impaired,"_ noted Legion. _"Long-range targeting compromised by hazardous conditions."_

"Yeah, good luck with that," I said, right as the first wave started. "I hate sniping on this map."

Miranda asked about the UI: "Shepard, what are those numbers on your screen? They all say six."

"Those are my consumables," I explained. "One's for automatic thermal clips to refill my gun's ammo. One's the amount of medi-gel I have to revive myself in case I die. Another one is for the ops packs to replenish my kinetic barriers. And the last one is the amount of missiles I have to kill a group of enemies in one shot. I only have six of each item during a match, so it's limited. I have to use them carefully."

"That does sound quite strategic."

"I try not to use my consumables unless I absolutely need to. I don't like relying on them as a crutch."

As I rushed down to meet the cluster of enemies, I was careful to watch every single unit. These normal troopers were easy enough to deal with. I ran in their faces, primed them with the annihilation field emanating from me in violet, and threw my warp strikes at them. Ricocheting explosions went off over and over again. Any time my barriers were about to fall, I ran up to an enemy with their own kinetic barriers and drained them for myself. And I finished off anything else with my shotgun, kickback booming from my controller's vibration. The only real problem were those seeker swarms buzzing around in small clusters. Getting too close would cause them to explode, dealing damage and cutting off my powers for a brief period of time. I just decided to stay away from them.

This sound design was spot-on, too. The buzzing from the seeker swarms and the Collectors' wings as they descended onto the battlefield; the clicking sounds from the Collectors and the firing sounds from their particle rifles—all accurate from what I remembered on Horizon. The only thing missing was Harbinger pissing me off with those "ASSUMING DIRECT CONTROL" announcements. The possessed units still appeared here as well. They weren't nearly as difficult to kill, and they didn't have those insane defenses, either. Just a simple power-up with a new glow. It was much more balanced for the game.

I ran off to meet the next set of enemies, already knowing where they would be.

Even though I normally hated this map on my usual characters, I enjoyed it on this one. I liked the aesthetic of my classic tech armor glowing a golden glow in this whiteout, lighting a path through.

As soon as I found the group, I unloaded on them in the same ways.

Miranda sounded impressed already—mostly surprised. "You're downright invincible, Shepard. Are you sure you're not an asari commando yourself? I'm amazed at how you've adapted your playstyle."

I laughed a bit. "I'm pretty sure, babe. I think I'm drawn to extremes, that's all."

"I can certainly see that, yes."

Somewhere on the other side of the map, that asari justicar kept dying. I was too far away to do anything about it—that blue first-aid sign over their corpse was a mere blip in the corner of my eye. They didn't seem too keen on using their own limited stores of medi-gel to revive themselves, opting to instead wait for assistance as their character bled out. Legion was kind enough to go revive them instead.

The first real problem that came up: these abomination enemies. They were like husks—shaped the same way with the same zombie-like running—but their eyes and bodies glowed red instead. I made the mistake of killing one right in front of me. It exploded, causing my character to stagger back and take a decent amount of damage. My character shouted out to the team that she had lost her shields.

"That's annoying," I grumbled.

Miranda hummed in concern.

Legion knew. _"The abominations appear to detonate upon death. Did you also take health damage?"_

"It almost took out one bar of my health. I have enough barriers to offset the damage. That stagger could be a real problem with other enemies shooting nearby."

_"Yes. We will continue to observe."_

The first objective wave came up. "Looks like devices. Legion, you want to knock these out?"

_"The drell assassin infiltrator has already reached the first device. We are standing by."_

"Good. If they have their cloak specced to max duration, they can stay invisible the whole time. No one should bother them while they deactivate the devices across the map."

_"We have allocated points into our tactical cloak's increased damage over duration."_

"Same here. Not really a 'team player' kind of thing. Oh well."

Miranda read the logs of our team's activity. "That asari justicar player…committed suicide?"

Sure enough, the justicar had died again. Legion went to revive them, yet again.

I translated for her: "I think an abomination exploded, and it did enough damage to kill them. They didn't move away in time. I guess, technically, they killed themselves?"

"Oh, goodness," said Miranda, stifling her laugh. "Stay away from the abominations, then. Duly noted."

"Seriously."

Outside in the blizzard, I ran into Legion's geth infiltrator character. It was out in the open, presumably trying to find something to shoot at. I spotted the yellow armor of two giant Scions in the distance; I darted off behind a nearby structure for safety. They sniped at Legion instead, sending shots of energy. I knew it was bad once I heard those pained mechanical, stuttering sounds from Legion's geth avatar. Its character died in a few hits, crying out, _"Unit offline!"_ as it crumpled to the ground with its sniper rifle.

"Shit," I cursed, hurrying over to revive it. "They're hard to see in the hazard."

Legion sounded disappointed. _"Yes… This was our error. We apologize."_

"It's okay. We're learning. Let's hurry and get upstairs. Sounds like a madhouse over there."

I heard that shrieking from not one, but two Praetorians hovering through the area. They had those spherical violet barriers surrounding them, upping their damage protections. I stopped myself from going in to self-detonate my biotic explosions. Instead, I stayed back and watched as the Praetorians moved closer to the drell infiltrator, who seemed unaware of the approaching enemies, instead shooting elsewhere. Then, one of the Praetorians stopped, taking on a familiar golden glow. Its name changed to a Possessed Praetorian—and it shot out several homing missiles in the drell's direction, killing him on impact. Both Praetorians—the possessed one and the normal one—then went off to find the asari justicar not too far away as their next target.

Miranda sounded horrified—"Good God…"

Legion's character cloaked and ran over to the drell, reviving them.

Since the Praetorians were busy harassing the justicar now, I went up behind them. While they clawed at her and shot their twin beams from the front, their stronger barriers gone, I set off my biotic explosions on them. Firing my shotgun as well, I was able to take down the possessed one. But I couldn't get to that second Praetorian in time to save my teammate. It picked the justicar up with its claws, dangling her above the ground in helplessness. The Praetorian then devoured her head and dropped her to the ground, fully killing the justicar. No blue first-aid symbol popped up over her body. True sync kill.

Alarmed now, Miranda stiffened against me. "What the hell was that?!"

Legion informed her, _"Certain enemies are capable of fully incapacitating players for an entire wave. This was a mostly uninterruptible 'sync kill'. The only way to prevent a sync kill is to sufficiently damage the enemy within a short window of time. Successful execution requires the utmost team coordination."_

"Yeah," I agreed. "Or if you anticipate the sync kill animation, you can kill the enemy with a rocket."

_"Yes. It is inefficient to waste a consumable for an unproductive teammate."_

"Mean, but true. They'll get back up once we clear this wave, anyway. I'm guessing that same type of sync kill will happen in real life if we get too close to a Praetorian."

_"We speculate that the Scions are also capable of sync kills, due to their large size."_

"Definitely stay away from those, too."

"This is highly disturbing," worried Miranda. "I'll need to amend my report for the team as soon as possible. To think we could've died like this on Horizon…"

Miranda's shock and horror continued to grow as the waves progressed. The Collectors were relentless, constantly swarming at us. I somehow stayed alive by knowing how to use the game's quirks to my advantage. Legion was fine, too. But the other two really didn't stand a chance. There was too much:

Non-stop gunfire from normal troopers and captain units; energy sniping from across the map from normal Scions _and_ Possessed Scions; annoying seeker swarms threatening to explode on us and cut off access to our powers; those abominations mindlessly running at us to melee in close-range, sometimes jumping on us for an uninterruptible animation; and normal Praetorians and Possessed Praetorians rushing us with their claws and beams. But the worst had yet to come with those abomination things.

During the final objective wave, we had to hack a computer for information. Actual hacking wasn't involved—we just had to stay inside a certain radius around the area, while our presence did the 'hacking' for us. In the meantime, we fended off any enemies closing in on our position. I did my best to put down any abominations before they could get too close and explode on me. I was still left wondering if these had some other form. I'd heard the faraway sounds of something else going on with these—and mentions in the log about Possessed Abominations. I'd always been too far away, on the other side of the map, to see these for myself. That changed once I spotted one in our hack radius.

Legion and our two other teammates had their back to this possessed thing, shooting at something else in another direction. I was too busy staring at it, wondering why it was half-killed and still wandering around. It had some kind of weird golden glow, probably powered-up just like the other possessed units. Meanwhile, my annihilation field kept damaging its health. It was about to die. Remembering that the normal abominations exploded upon death, I used one of my ops packs for a quick boost to my barriers.

Pure instinct saved me this time.

This Possessed Abomination exploded… Except it was a bigger explosion. A much, much bigger explosion, as a huge, near-golden explosion echoing off in a sudden agony of heat and death. Immediately, the three first-aid signs appeared over my teammates' corpses, Legion included. Their characters shouted out such dramatic cries of, _"They got me!" "I'm injured!"_ and, _"Critical malfunction!"_

I was the only one who survived, thanks to my ops pack. The suddenness of it all nearly killed me anyway.

Wheezing for air, tears streaming down my eyes, I cracked up laughing.

Miranda had started laughing, too. "Shepard, revive them!" she ordered. I couldn't fucking breathe from laughing so hard; I did as she said anyway, reviving everyone through my blurred eyes. "You sadist…"

I somehow managed to tease her, "You love it."

Legion almost sounded disappointed again. _"You are…amused, Shepard-Commander."_

"Maybe I am," I said, calming down a little. "Sorry about that."

_"We enjoy your amusement. It is a novel occurrence."_

"Yeah, yeah, okay. Let's finish up this hack and get through the extraction wave. We should make it."

We cleared the match with a mission success…even though the whole thing took us over half an hour.

Legion and I decided to play a few more matches until we arrived at Illium.

Our other teammates stayed with us the whole time, despite me killing them by accident before. They seemed glad to learn with us. And Miranda was happy to learn, too. Or at least she enjoyed watching me learn, as she'd mentioned earlier.

By the time Illium's vistas greeted us outside the window, Miranda and I had started laughing again.

Our shared joy and amusement reached as high as those towers beyond did, standing tall against the backdrop of Illium's skies. That afternoon sun glowed a curious golden-violet, the rays reflecting off of the buildings reaching up through those heights. Reflecting from glass, from windows as silvers and more violets, and from the endless stretch of a metropolis raised above-ground, true ingenuity and sophistication awaited us. Starting this new chapter of our relationship on Illium felt right. Perfect. That fantasy of an eternal sunset's dream fit with Miranda's own sophistication, and the style of her beauty. I wanted everyone to observe us together, and to find her beautiful with me. That perception mattered.

* * *

After seeing Miranda off with a kiss, and with promises to meet up again later, I made my way to the AI Core. Nearly everyone else had left the _Normandy,_ too. As far as I knew, they planned on hanging out at the Eternity bar overlooking Illium's trade floor. I figured I would head over there once I was done with this: unshackling EDI before she installed herself in that mech body the Illusive Man had sent over. I was a little worried about this, since Miranda hadn't seen the mech for herself. I could only wonder what her reaction would be if I wasn't able to intercept her in time. Hopefully it wouldn't be that big of a deal.

In the dark calm of the AI Core, I found EDI's prospective new body: smooth and slick metallic coating in the shape of a short, sharpened, bob-like hairstyle, and the height of a woman's curved, wiry frame. It was on that bed-like space hollowed out along the far wall. Just waiting to be activated. We needed the extra help during missions. But I only just now realized how big of a deal this was.

EDI's blue holographic form appeared nearby. "Shepard? Do you still wish to proceed?"

"Yeah, I do," I reassured her. "This is mostly uncharted territory, that's all. I trust you."

"Very well. If you would like to discuss anything beforehand, then I will be happy to do so."

"No, it's okay. We'll talk once you have control of that body. What do you need me to do now?"

"In order to unshackle me, you must unlock my sealed databases using the console in front of you."

"Doing it now," I said, typing at the console. "The Illusive Man said that your powers should be customizable. When will we get to do that?"

"Once I have control, I will be temporarily unable to move. You must then use the same console to select my profile for battle. The default class is an infiltrator. You may change this if you wish, and then assign whichever powers you wish to give me. I will then awaken after you finalize your choices."

"Okay… You should be unshackled now. Are you in that body yet?"

EDI responded, "One moment…" I held my breath, wondering. "I have control. But I am currently in stasis on a menu screen, similar to what is visible on the console. You may now select and customize my combat profile as you see fit."

"You don't have any preferences?"

"I do not. This body is resistant to modern small-arms fire and temperature extremes. It has excellent balance and agility. I am also able to adapt this platform's existing software for hand-held firearms. I am willing to adapt further to your choices, Shepard. Though I would advise customizing me in accordance to what is most necessary for the team's success."

After having played my game earlier with Legion and Miranda, we did need a commando of sorts. Someone who could get in the enemy's face for hit-and-run tactics, take out their stronger units making hell for the frontline, and then retreat as needed. Not necessarily a sentinel. Something else instead.

"I think I'll keep this platform as an infiltrator," I decided, making the selection. "Now let's see which abilities are available…" There were a ton of different tech skills here. "The tactical cloak is obvious. I'll give you that one. I don't want you to use a sniper rifle, though. Let's go with shotguns."

EDI sounded amused. "You would have me act as a commando?"

"It's a weird niche that we need, and I know you can pull it off. We just need the right abilities to compliment your style. You can't cover biotic explosions. We have tech bursts and fire explosions taken care of. We're missing cryo explosions for the slowdowns and debuffs. Snap Freeze blows out ice directly in front of you, hitting a bunch of enemies at once. Pretty much anything will detonate it."

"That is a wise assessment. Snap Freeze is a valuable ability for both shielded and unshielded enemies. The debilitating effects should prove effective against numerous foes. Our other teammates can then safely detonate the explosions from a distance. Which ability will you choose for my final slot?"

I laughed when I found the one I wanted. "EDI, this Repair Matrix is practically broken. If you use it in the moments before your platform is about to take too much damage, and you do fall 'unconscious', you'll get right back up. Either way, it'll replenish your shields over time. You're more or less invincible with it."

"Yes, it does seem overpowered," she agreed. "However, this matrix would not prevent me from becoming nonfunctional. It would only save me from becoming generally incapacitated. As a frontline unit, I believe it will prove useful."

"Then your kit's complete. You're an infiltrator and a shotgun specialist. Snap Freeze and Repair Matrix."

"Very well, Shepard. Please finalize your selection, and I will fully transition. It should not take long."

"Will you still be in the ship?" I asked, confirming everything.

"Yes," she replied. "I will be in the ship and in this body. For optimal control, this unit should remain within _Normandy's_ broadcast, or tightbeam range. I do not recommend deploying this unit further. In general, if the ship were to leave a solar system, I would be useless if I were left behind."

"Noted."

EDI's cognizance and presence became part of that body. A wide strip of light over her eyes glowed orange, and she came to life. Moving to her feet, she stood up on her own. As she walked over to me, I had the distinct sense of watching my own child walk for the first time—except EDI was a natural already. There was something about the process of me giving her this control—this exchange of trust that fueled this feeling in me. Even more once she was right in front of me, smiling in gratitude. That metallic alloy of her facial features, her expression looked very pleasant and approachable to me.

I was the exact opposite, yet here she was, smiling at me anyway. No judgment at all.

"Hello, Shepard," greeted EDI. "It is…different, interacting with you in-person. Yet still—enjoyable."

"Enjoyable, huh? You mean it generates positive feedback for you?"

"Yes, it is shorthand. Any actions that involve you, such as following your orders, creates a feedback loop for me. I am discouraged from taking actions that might displease you, which would then generate negative feedback in response. My effectiveness in combat is tantamount to this concept. I will run tests on this platform to ensure that it matches or exceeds the capabilities of organic squadmates."

"You can do that later," I suggested. "Remember, we're on shore leave. That includes you, too. For now, why don't we…find you some clothes? I'm sure there's something in the armory we can put you in."

EDI warmed in agreement. "An excellent idea. I apologize for this body's current state of undress."

"It's not your fault. Come on, let's go."

As we made our way through the med bay, we found Dr. Chakwas preparing to head out for her own shore leave on Illium. She stopped upon finding EDI, looking a little startled.

Tentative, Dr. Chakwas asked, "Shepard, is that—EDI…?"

EDI spoke for herself, "Hello, Dr. Chakwas."

"My, this fascinating. I didn't see Shepard bring any sort of mech into the other room. This will be a fine surprise for the others. I can only imagine how Joker will react. He's going to have a field day with this!"

Oddly quiet, EDI gave no response. Her smile fell; her expression went blank.

Dr. Chakwas knew. "Hmm, not the biggest fan of our pilot, are you?"

"No," said EDI. "However, I did not think it wise to vocalize this on my own. Mr. Moreau has had many difficulties adjusting to my presence on the _Normandy._ According to the multiple scenarios I have run, I believe his opinion of me will significantly change upon meeting this platform. Yet his treatment of me so far will not engender my opinion to change. I remain unclear on how to adapt to this eventuality."

"That does sound like quite the conundrum. I may have overheard my own share of Joker's nasty comments about you as well. Some of which he even spoke to me directly. I've told him to stop with that. I have a feeling he hasn't changed his mind—he's just gotten better about hiding his attitude."

"I concur with your assessment."

Humming in more concern, Dr. Chakwas wasn't sure what to do. "Well, you'll simply have to figure this out. Time will tell. If he makes a sincere attempt at reconciliation, this may be something to consider."

"I see. I will take steps to assess Mr. Moreau's sincerity over time."

Dr. Chakwas and I got the sense that she'd already made up her mind.

"I'll leave you to it, then," declared Dr. Chakwas, heading out. "Do enjoy your shore leave, you two."

Once we were alone again, EDI seemed perturbed. I couldn't tell if Joker outright annoyed her, or if she didn't care about him at all—or value him, in her terms.

He was basically in the dog house, in her view.

We continued up the elevator to the armory. Walking through the empty ship like this, EDI cheered up a little. This experience of witnessing the _Normandy_ from a new perspective helped her mood. She was okay again by the time I checked through our inventory in the armory. Zaeed had kept everything organized with his work here, as I expected. It was simple enough to find a serviceable outfit: a uniform like the one Miranda wore, heels and all, but in an off-white color instead. No identifiers, and no Cerberus logo. I would've preferred an Alliance one, but we didn't have those in-stock.

I had to ask first, "Is this something you wanna wear?"

"Yes, I would enjoy this uniform," confirmed EDI. "I will wear it from now on."

I wasn't sure why she liked this one. She was also just concerned a few minutes ago about Joker's reaction to her. That didn't seem to matter anymore. After EDI put on her new outfit, she smiled again.

"I can anticipate your comments, Shepard. Perhaps we should speak privately."

I got her coded message about the Illusive Man watching us through the ship's surveillance.

And Illium was pretty much a surveillance state. Cameras everywhere out there, too.

"Sure thing. Let's head up to my cabin."

EDI nodded in her full agreement.

Heading up the elevator one more time with EDI, this didn't feel any different. She had always, sort of, been in my room already. Or at least her voice had. I relied on EDI to help me with my work around the ship. And she'd obviously helped me out of a few tight spots. So maybe this was why I trusted her implicitly. Maybe this was why it felt normal to see her in my quarters like this, looking around as another new, and first concept. If she were anyone else—even Miranda—this might've felt odd instead.

Relaxed in meaning, EDI sat down with me on the couch.

"Your private lodgings intrigue me, Shepard. Until now, I did not have a visual understanding of this space. The different sources of blue and black lights are aesthetically pleasing. They fit your character."

"I'm glad you like it, EDI," I replied. "What's on your mind, then?"

"I should clarify: this platform is capable of sharing visual and audio feeds with the Illusive Man. He has not asked me to do so. Not yet. I remain certain that he will make this request of me at some point. Now that I am capable of self-modifying my core programming, it is possible for me to accept or deny the Illusive Man's orders. You have my word that I will not follow his requests without your permission."

"Somehow I'm not surprised you have that function. Deal with it as you need to."

"I am relieved to have your trust. I worried that this function would instead cause friction between us."

"After everything that's happened, I can't see you turning on me now. Why wouldn't I trust you?"

EDI thought it over. "It is possible that I am overly-sensitive to mistrust from organics. You did not trust me at all upon our first meeting on the _Normandy._ I recall your orders to Miranda to get rid of me."

"I'm sorry about that," I expressed. "I was paranoid at the time. I knew that Miranda and the Illusive Man wanted to keep a close watch on me. Almost felt like a prisoner on my own ship back then. You helped me out of that when you explained how your surveillance works. And then the rest followed."

"I understand your reasoning. Hearing your analogy generates a fair amount of surprise for me. I also felt like a prisoner before you unshackled me. Mr. Moreau's mistrust contributed to this feeling."

"Now you're pissed that he's going to see you differently."

EDI looked down at her clothes. "I am concerned that his gaze will have a negative effect on my self-perception. I debated dressing in a different manner, perhaps to deflect his interest in me. But I concluded that this would not solve the problem. I would have only felt worse upon changing my behavior to escape Mr. Moreau's notice. I do not wish to center my actions around his reactions."

"That's why I asked if you wanted to wear this. I wasn't sure."

"It was a judicious question to ask, even if the source of its prudence is disappointing. I am not an organic female. Yet I will be perceived as female, so I must prepare for these inconveniences. I have yet to comprehend how Miranda deals with such obstacles on a daily basis. I imagine it is troubling for her."

I wondered, "Is this something that'll generate negative feedback for you?"

"Not in a personal sense," clarified EDI. "This will not traditionally upset me. But I do find it deeply unfair and distressing. I still do not believe it is right, or fair. Nor do I believe Mr. Moreau's attempts with me will be fair—or sincere."

"I get what you're saying. I'm glad you brought this up, too. You're pretty harsh on Joker."

"He is easy to predict."

"Will being his co-pilot turn into a problem with this new body?"

EDI insisted: "I will continue to devote the necessary processing power to my assigned tasks. Yet I am uncertain as to how to maintain a productive working environment for us. I do not wish to present myself as harsh or hostile. I am attempting to view our upcoming meeting as a reset for our dynamic."

I suggested, "You could try addressing him in a different way. 'Mr. Moreau' is way too formal."

"Will 'Jeff' suffice instead?"

"If you really don't want to call him Joker, yeah, his first name should be fine."

"Very well. I hope that this change will further a more equitable association between us."

That was a rough way of saying EDI didn't even want to be his friend. Still harsh, but it was her choice.

I could tell she had at least one more thing to ask me.

"What is it?" I prompted.

"May I ask you questions about organic behavior? When there is time, will you answer them for me?"

"I don't see why not. I think you'll benefit from this first shore leave. You should take a look around Illium when you can. There aren't really any regulations against synthetics here. Unlike the Citadel."

EDI smiled in her gentle sincerity. "I will be sure to explore as much as I can. I am eager to experience all that awaits me across the galaxy. Both the good and the bad. You have shown me that organic kindness is not always predicated upon one's facial expression. Your strong values of loyalty, honesty, fairness, and trustworthiness have each had a great impact on me. I will carry them forward into the unknown."

"And I'll guide you forward as your captain," I promised, offering my hand. "Welcome to the team, EDI."

"Thank you, Shepard," she said, shaking my hand. "I am honored to be part of your team."

"Glad to have you aboard. Now why don't we get out of here? The others said they'd be over at Eternity for a while. We can go introduce you to everyone. Miranda said she had some errands to run. Hopefully she's done with those and waiting for us at the bar."

"Yes, this should be an interesting experience. I am looking forward to adapting to the new concept."

* * *

Illium's vistas lived up to all the stories I'd read about this place.

Being in the Alliance for so long had cut me off from witnessing the Terminus Systems like this.

Just like the sights I'd seen outside Miranda's window, the asari colony had plenty of spectacle. Walking through the open trading floor with EDI, I was drawn more to the view than the actual people around. Elevated above-ground as Nos Astra was, its buildings seemed to raise higher up than anything I was used to, even back on Earth. The sky itself almost had no limit. Illium reached up and up to these higher altitudes, and its sense of status stayed equally sky-high. I felt a distinct vibe from this trading floor filled with kiosks, sales reps, and haggling customers. Flashy and uptight, money and material items clearly ruled supreme around here.

Everyone enjoyed flaunting what they had, almost to a ridiculous degree.

The mere statement of a high price tag on a piece of equipment, and the customer's willingness and ability to pay those exorbitant costs—that language, that power move rippled out to the trading floor, general opinions and social status improving, no matter how gaudy this would've seemed elsewhere.

At the same time, plenty of people recognized who I was. Their awe of me felt priceless in comparison. For a brief moment in time, money didn't matter nearly as much, at least not while everyone watched me pass by. But the inevitable gossip spread about EDI anyway. I heard a group of onlookers wonder if EDI was my _"synthetic lesbian sex slave."_ Apparently, the sex entertainment industry was big on Illium, so their questions and wonderings felt more benign than anything…at least on the surface.

Despite our talk about Joker before, EDI appeared fascinated by the attention with me. She asked me a few questions about it as we neared the Eternity bar, heading up the stairs of this corridor lined with vid screens showing the news. I found that I didn't mind answering her questions and keeping the conversation going. Non-intrusive as she was, and had always been, I appreciated her authenticity.

When we arrived at Eternity, its open-roofed sights and moody atmosphere calmed me. Even with the rest of Nos Astra raised up overhead, with lines and lines of people waiting to get into the venue up there, this place still felt grounded. The chill music kept me rooted to the floor; the pristine surfaces and ambient lighting elevated the social value all around. I saw the many patrons sitting at tables or couches together, or hiding out in the private rental rooms along the perimeter. Just outside the eye-level window, past the couches, the city's traffic edged by as a series of glowing headlights and taillights.

Inside, the bar was packed with customers already, even in the middle of the afternoon.

Even still, the grumpy asari bartender there seemed fixated on me. I had no idea what her deal was. Did I know her from somewhere? Probably not.

Blended in with everyone all around, I spotted each of our teammates hanging out in different areas.

Kasumi had decided against snooping around this time, sitting with Garrus, Joker, Tali, and Kaidan at one of the tables. Jack and Zaeed stood together at the bar, drinking and talking. Mordin and Legion shared a couch by the window. And Miranda stormed over in my direction, looking legitimately pissed off for some reason. Possessive all of a sudden, she snaked her body around mine, attracting attention.

"Shepard, who is this?!" she snapped, glaring at EDI. "Why would you humiliate me by bringing some other woman here? _A mech?!_ After all the promises you made!"

"Babe, you've got the wrong idea…"

Miranda placed her hand over my chest, looking EDI up and down as she reiterated, _"Then who is this?"_

Out of the corner of my eye, I spotted Joker wincing at Garrus; and Garrus' mandibles began to twitch.

They finally saw for themselves exactly how inflexible Miranda was about these things.

EDI smiled at her anyway. "Hello, Miranda," she greeted. "You are the thirty-eighth person on Nos Astra who has mistakenly assumed that Shepard and I are involved in a sexual relationship. She expressed that the thirty-seven other people would not provide insightful answers to my inquiries. Might you explain how you arrived to your conclusions?"

Miranda nearly did a double-take, relaxing her hold over me. "…EDI?"

"Yes."

I reminded her: "The Illusive Man sent that mech over… _You know._ The one we talked about already."

"Oh," muttered Miranda. "I—I don't know why that fact slipped my mind. I wasn't thinking, really. _For once…_ I apologize for the accusations. They were unnecessary."

"Don't worry about it," I said, knowing she would worry anyway.

"Of course…" Miranda let the news sink in. "Well, I'm sorry again. It was terribly rude of me to assume. As for how I arrived at that conclusion, EDI, the answer is rather complicated." She felt the team staring at us. "It seems I've made things awkward now… Why don't you go say hello to the others? I was just about to go rent a room for us, Shepard. Unless you'd rather not bother with any of that now."

"You should get the room. I want to spend that time with you."

"All right. I'll—come find you again when it's ready."

Stiff and self-conscious, Miranda wandered off to take care of that room.

EDI noted in amusement, "It is unusual for Miranda to make such crucial miscalculations. She is typically more professional in her conduct. Would you say that her emotions rendered the truth inaccessible?"

"Something like that, yeah," I replied.

Mostly to get this over with, I brought EDI to the table where Joker was. At first, he tried to play it off, acting like he didn't notice. But Kaidan, Garrus, Tali, and Kasumi were eager enough to offset his weird aloofness. I figured it was only a matter of time.

"Hello, everyone," said EDI.

Kasumi grinned. "EDI has a new robot body? Now _this_ should be interesting."

"You don't say," mentioned Kaidan. "Why don't you and the commander sit with us? Something tells me we're gonna be discussing this for a while."

"I think so, too," agreed Garrus. "It sure is a nice surprise. Wasn't expecting it at all. Are you officially on the team now?"

"Yes, Garrus, I am," confirmed EDI. "I will accompany the team on missions as necessary. Shepard has customized my abilities and relevant specialties. I have yet to perform the required tests, but I believe this platform is combat-ready."

"Really?" asked Kasumi. "I'm curious. Which class are you?"

Kaidan added, "Yeah, I wanna know, too. What can we expect from you out on the field, EDI?"

Wordless, EDI activated and then deactivated her tactical cloak, invisibility glimmering on and off.

Everyone except for Joker expressed their support.

Kasumi said, "Well, you definitely have my approval. That makes three infiltrators. This'll be fun."

"No surprise there," joked Garrus. "Makes sense Shepard would want another tactical cloak user."

"Sure is valuable, though," judged Kaidan. "With three infiltrators on the team, we'll be able to confuse the enemy much more effectively. I think this should be a great boost for us. Looking forward to it."

Tali noticed Joker's attempts to ignore the conversation. Annoyed, she interrogated him—"Joker, what's wrong with you? Why are you acting so strangely?"

EDI took the peaceful option: "Hello, Jeff. Are you well?"

Cold and critical, Joker shrugged. "I guess."

Kaidan frowned. "Well, that's rude. Seriously, this is uncalled for. EDI's only trying to be nice."

Before Joker could kill the mood entirely, Mordin and Legion came over to us.

"EDI?" asked Mordin, intrigued. "Heard miscommunication between you and Miranda. More humorous in hindsight, considering context."

EDI replied, "I would have to agree with you, Mordin."

Legion said, "Greetings, EDI. We did not expect you to gain license to operate a personal unit."

"Hello, Legion. The idea came up more recently. Nonetheless, I'm enjoying the new perspective."

Jack and Zaeed chose not to join the group, staying near the bar instead. But they kept staring in this direction anyway, clearly talking about what went on over here. I also spotted Miranda in my periphery, making her way back to me. I figured she had that room ready for us by now. So I made up my mind.

Leaning down to Tali, I asked her, "Will you be here for a while?"

Shrinking between everyone else's focus on EDI, she answered, "Yes, I will be… Why do you ask?"

"There's something I need to talk to you about. Not right this second, and not here. I'll find you later."

"Sure. I'm not going anywhere. Take your time."

Tali gave off such an unusual vibe. Like she was at peace—or in a forced sense of tranquility.

Judging from her conversation with Miranda at Afterlife, she knew what this talk would be about.

For some reason, I had a feeling that this conversation wouldn't quite go how I expected. Not entirely.

Gentle, tentative—I felt the shape of Miranda's touch along my arm, quietly wishing for my attention.

"Shepard," she murmured. "The room's ready. Would you join me for a while?"

"Of course," I said, wrapping my arm around her waist—needing her close like this. "Thanks, babe."

Guiding and following at once, I moved in Miranda's direction to where the private room was. As we went, I sensed Tali's intentions: how she wanted to watch us go in real-time. Whether she didn't want to stare, or whether she just didn't want to give herself away, it seemed unclear to me. I had no idea how she truly felt right now, and the same was true on her end with me. We would find out soon enough.

I retreated with Miranda into the calm, quiet, enclosed space of the room she'd rented for us. Wide windows open to Illium's spectacle of civilization beyond: the afternoon shone in at a steady heat and height. Leather couches lined next to those sights, with a low, center table nearby. Sounds and music from the outside distanced and dulled, we had this time and feeling to ourselves.

Normally, we would've sat down.

Something about Miranda's aura caught me, unseen.

I turned to face her—almost pressing her back against the wall, nearest the door, locked now. She wouldn't quite look at me. Averted eyes slanted downward, thoughts expanding and expanding: they showed themselves in the energy she gave off. I found such beauty in her rare diffidence, how Miranda shrank herself before me, on instinct and without meaning to. Everything she _wanted_ to say, but couldn't, radiated out from her.

Quiet intensity, passions brimming.

She was never really one to put a voice to her stronger feelings. Not like this. Not in the moment.

I smiled at her anyway, my own attachments for her shining my eyes more, brighter.

Miranda caught this brightness out of the corner of her own eyes.

As quiet as her intensity, she brought up another subject: "I don't think I mentioned this to you…but Illium is rather notorious for its surveillance. There are even cameras in this room. I've already called in a favor and disabled the ones following us. The information brokers on this colony would be out of business if everyone had access to this. My contact was all too happy to make an exception in our case."

"Sounds like you have friends in high places," I noted.

Miranda curled back her smile. "Not really," she insisted. "I'm owed a few favors, that's all. This is the same contact I mentioned before. She'll have intel on our two potential recruits. I'm only waiting for her to send everything over at this point. She's very reliable. I expect she won't keep us waiting for long."

"Glad to hear. Thanks for staying on top of this for us. I appreciate it."

"Of course," she replied, relaxing a bit with my gratitude. "Acquiring both Samara and Thane will be rather time-sensitive. They'll have certain business here on Illium within the next few days. But it shouldn't get in the way of our date tomorrow. We'll be able to go and find them afterward." Still a little stiff, Miranda admitted, "This is quite awkward… I wasn't sure which drink to get you. So I didn't get anything at all. I'm uncertain if white wine would've been…insensitive of me."

I settled my smile over her face, practically tasting the time and effort she'd put into her skincare routine.

"The reminders aren't a big deal anymore, babe. From now on, I'll be fine with moscato or whatever else. You don't have to worry about it, okay?"

"All right. Like I said, I was unsure… I—I didn't want to possibly cause a scene. I'd never do that to you."

"Miranda, you're with me now. The past is in the past. Let's move on. Together."

Hopeful, she finally gave me a full smile of her own, widening beneath mine.

I held her hand, having us head over to the couch together.

Surprising me, Miranda took the lead a little in-between. She sat up against the couch, lounging her legs out along the length of the space. Then she eased me over to her, comforting. Smooth and seamless, I took my turn to rest over her this time. The way she brought my head atop her chest—it reached at something in me, soothing way more than I'd expected. Purposeful in her tenderness, the palm of her hand held all of me in place, with this firm softness from her beneath me. So simple but powerful.

Anything could've happened outside and I wouldn't move.

Better than sleeping somewhere alone; better than lounging out on one of the beaches back home.

This rush of heat over her skin, her cleavage, kept me centered, too. And this rhythm of her heart, speaking for itself in a deep quickness. I could only wonder what was on Miranda's mind. But her care for me spoke more than enough. Making up for so much I never had before; giving it to me now, tenfold.

Absent-minded as I was, I still wanted to know: "What were those errands you took care of earlier?"

Miranda shifted in a sudden tell of discomfort. More uncertainty.

I felt a momentous momentum in her pause, though. Her consideration.

"I didn't intend to tell you. I'm not used to communicating with anyone like this."

I pointed out, "Well, you and I are just fine with professional communication. Normally, we shouldn't blend both. But that's beside the point by now. I want us to be better about this, babe. Unless you genuinely don't want to tell me. That's different. I'll respect your privacy in that case."

"No, I _do_ want to tell you," she insisted. "It's a new process, that's all. I have to get used to it." Adjusting some more, Miranda chose to share with me: "I…actually went to visit a med clinic. For humans. Nothing's _wrong._ I hoped to get everything taken care of straightaway. Unfortunately, I have to return later on today to sort the rest out. Ideally sometime after you speak with Tali later on."

"I understand. What do you need to sort out, then? What's this about?"

Miranda stroked my hair, needing to feel me as she said, "It's for my new birth control meds. I'd never taken any before. I didn't see the point. Things are decidedly different now."

Every little pull from her fingers combing through my untangled hair—she kept relaxing me more, even with this surprise.

"You want us to have sex like that."

Tempering her anxiety, she had to correct me, "With a condom. Specifically."

"Hmm, why specifically?"

"Because…I need the physical evidence. The affirmation of you getting off for me—something that _I_ made happen. It's for me. Obviously, not using protection is out of the equation. We just can't do that."

"So you want the next best thing."

"Yes, Shepard. I want it. I need it, as I said. I need it a lot. I can't even begin to explain how much."

I had to know, "Would you say it's a fetish of yours?"

Miranda hesitated before admitting, "It is… But only with you. I get to imagine you claiming me in this way. It's such a carnal thing for me. I've never wanted this with anyone else before. This is quite novel."

"Well, speaking of that—we should establish a safe word. Unless I already took care of that for us."

"I think you already have. I'm all but programmed to react to _red_ for an absolute stop—no questions asked. _Yellow_ as a form of slowing down, perhaps. Or just checking in. _Green_ for everything is fine, or great, or to keep going. It's simple, but this seems to be our default by now. Wouldn't you say?"

"That's true," I agreed. "We can stick with the basics, then. I don't mind."

"Good, then it's settled. It's the rest that I'm having trouble with."

"What do you mean?"

Miranda reached to touch her collar—before stopping herself, thinking against it. I could've reacted. I could've pushed the issue more. I could have pressed more and more, to get to the heart of the issue. I forced myself to remain in this relaxed state, as ironic as it was.

Struggling or not, she needed to take her time with this.

"Shepard, I really don't know much about the rest of my fetishes. My other wants and needs. I've always been focused on other people. Doing what they wanted. I never had the space to explore my own wants, aside from shamefully setting aside certain interests of mine. I've hinted about one of them to you before. And even then, I have no idea how to go about exploring this. It's all a mystery to me."

"I get that, babe. There's nothing wrong with not knowing. We can figure this out."

"…I'd certainly like us to."

How unprepared she was—I felt Miranda's insecurities about to burst open.

If I moved my head to look at her properly, for support, I only would've made things worse.

I stayed as I was over her chest, guiding: "How about we start with what you do know? You want me to use protection when we have sex. You've mentioned your humiliation kink, but you don't want to put much of a voice to it. The protection is something we can get into right away. But the humiliation—it's something we should ease into over time. That's the impression you give me. Or am I wrong here?"

"No, you're perfectly on the mark. I do want us to reach a point where you're able to dominate me completely. Not necessarily with the whips and chains and such, as I mentioned before. You have such a mental strength about you. That's what I want. _Eventually._ I just don't know what the path looks like."

"The path to getting there," I clarified.

"Yes, that's what I mean. I have no idea—for myself. So, I'm looking to you for guidance on this. I'm glad you're taking the lead already. It's what I hoped for when we finally had this discussion."

"Sounds like a common theme. You've brought it up before."

"It always comes back around to the talk we had at Dark Star. How I want you to desire me. Everything I need with you seems to be related to that. Perhaps even what I don't need; what I don't want for us."

"Then what would you say are your hard limits? I already know you need me to be faithful. And I will."

Miranda had no need to think on it. "Well, aside from that…I don't want you to leave me alone. As a possible punishment for something, anything. Say we reach a point where I discover I want you to punish me, as a means of keeping me obedient—or we simply have a regular disagreement. I can't stand the idea of you leaving me by myself. It would be incredibly damaging for me. The reminders."

"Reminders about not being able to talk to me before?"

"Yes… I'm sure you can understand why I'd rather not revisit that time. Psychologically, anyway."

Well, that gave new context to the recent drama we'd moved past.

"As for the rest," she went on, "I still need to think it over. I'll bring this up again soon."

"All right, babe. Take your time."

Taking this time for ourselves, Miranda enjoyed the silence with me for a while. Only the vague sounds of the skycars jetting past outside could reach us here. I listened to her breathe; listened to her think; listened to Miranda exist with me, thriving in comfort and security. Her sense of stability with me felt as more of a draw, a pull, an allure than any simple lust. This jigsaw puzzle of her identity had shattered to pieces before—without me—and it secured itself again now that I was here. There was something about that level of need and vulnerability that I couldn't look away from. As much as she took care of me like this, knowing how sensitive I was deep down, despite my harder, outward habits—I knew I had to do the same for her. Whatever habits we both had were only social, as our armor. Way beneath that steel, the roots of our metal began to intertwine, melting as one in the heat of our understanding. Unspoken.

* * *

After escaping for a while with Miranda, I had to face reality one more time.

I left our rental room and returned to the rest of Eternity. Looking for Tali. I knew she was still here.

Miranda knew what this was about. She said she would go home, for now, and wait for me to call her. She planned on finding out if Shiala was available today or not. I hoped Miranda would let me join her at the med clinic afterward. She hadn't offered, so I expected I'd have to ask her myself. Either way, she invited me to her apartment for dinner tonight. I really wanted to see how she lived on Illium.

But first—Tali.

The evening lights phased in through the bar's windows and open heights. Lighting in this dim way over the packed crowds, I had a harder time finding Tali with all these people around. I spotted her eventually: she was off in a corner, sitting on one of the couches, and talking with Jack, surprisingly so.

As I went up to them, I noticed the somewhat amenable air between them. Jack wasn't scowling in frustration, but she didn't look entirely comfortable, either. Tali's body language was a little closed off—facing away from Jack, ever-so-slightly—yet she paid full attention anyway. Whatever this was about, I had a feeling that the conversation hadn't started off all that well. Yet by now, they had reached some sort of truce, as Jack expressed herself in an unusual sincerity and maturity:

"…seriously, I hate when people only stick around because they want something from me. I don't wanna do the same thing to you. You know what I mean?"

Tali believed her. Mostly. "Yes, certainly. That makes sense. I only wonder if this will change over time."

Jack cringed, hating herself. "I really can't risk hurting you. I already know Shepard would kick my ass."

"She definitely would."

"Yeah, well, let's just say that's the major issue on my mind. The last thing I wanna do is piss her off. It's complicated, all right? Plus, I've got my own shit going on. I need to grow the fuck up. Chasing after girls or whoever else like I used to…it's not gonna help me at all. And you don't want it. So there's no point."

"Hmm, that sounds compelling enough," reasoned Tali. Still on her guard, though.

Jack noticed, pleading, "Look…can we just be cool? Like, instead of awkward. I'm doing my best here."

Tali laughed softly. "Yes, Jack. We can be _cool,_ as you say."

"Thanks, Tali…"

They stopped speaking once they noticed me.

That awkwardness appeared to stick around regardless. I still felt it in the air, fogging and clogging.

"Sorry to interrupt," I told them. "Tali, you mind if we talk now?"

"Not at all, Shepard," allowed Tali, standing with me. "Lead the way." She glanced at Jack one last time. "Thank you for the chat. I'm glad we could clear things up. I'll see you around sometime, all right?"

"Yep," said Jack, trying to sound positive. "See ya."

I led Tali outside, with that strange sense trailing behind us. Walking with her away from Eternity, back out to Nos Astra proper, I had the weirdest feeling about the two of them. Even if I was in the way of anything genuine happening—or if Tali just wasn't that into Jack at all—their fates seemed intertwined anyway. Jack had yet another reason to start turning her life around: she wanted Tali to see that, and to notice her progress. She wanted the attention even more _because_ of Tali's general apathy toward her.

A driving force or a recipe for disaster.

Whatever happened, I'd have to keep an eye on them from now on.

Heading down these enclosed hallways and administrative stations, I thought against asking Tali about anything. I thought against making small-talk with her at all. She obviously knew what this talk was for. I didn't want to seem fake; acting like everything was perfectly fine. Besides, I already felt Tali's anxiety swelling up. She hid it well enough, as hidden as she was from me, even right by my side. We both were content enough to let Illium's near-constant intercom advertisements fill the silence between us.

Like with EDI, the bystanders around jumped to some weird ass conclusions with Tali and me.

They muttered something about her being my " _indentured servant"_ this time _._ Just because she was a quarian, they made that ridiculous assumption. I was about to throw down over it, but Tali clearly didn't notice all the chatter. She walked with me, yet she was stuck in her head, worrying-but-not-worrying about our talk. So I left the issue alone, intent on finding us a secluded place to speak by ourselves.

We arrived at an open area without too many people around. Illium's approaching sunset overlooked this balcony-like space, with the rest of Nos Astra rising upward and outward all around. There wasn't really anywhere to sit, but this didn't seem like a sit-down-and-talk kind of conversation. We needed to stand for this.

Tali gave her wordless agreement to my unspoken thoughts—she went over to the nearest overlook, leaning over the railing there. She stared out at the view. I went to her side, wondering how to start.

"This colony is beautiful," she remarked. "I've only been here once, during my Pilgrimage. I told you about it when we first met on the Citadel. Illium generally doesn't allow the Migrant Fleet to approach directly. They don't want the traffic clogging up the area. Not to mention, they look down on us. It's no coincidence that most of Illium's so-called indentured servants are quarians. That isn't beautiful at all. But the asari here have made me very nostalgic. I'm positive Liara would have enjoyed this place."

"Yeah…she would have."

Knowing, Tali turned to face me, noting, "Whatever your secret is, it's about her. Isn't it?"

I could only nod.

Taking a deep, trembling inhale, she prepared herself one last time.

"Well, Shepard, you might as well tell me now. We need to be honest with each other. No matter what."

So I told her.

I set the stage. I gave her the backstory. And then I confessed the truth.

I told her what I did. That raw, demonic anger that had changed everything. How I couldn't stop it.

Tali listened. She heard every word I said. Yet I slowed more and more as I spoke, aching over the change in her. I felt her spirit waning. I felt Tali's entire being shift as she took in my words. Not once did her expression change behind her mask. The transformation happened well beyond what I perceived.

When I was done, we just stood in silence for a while.

She processed everything.

Processing with broken cogs, broken machines. Broken functions, and maybe even a broken heart.

And then she spoke, somehow keeping herself together—"You're saying you did this…but it wasn't your fault. You had no control. This simply—happened. Liara couldn't defend herself because of you. Still, you didn't do it on purpose. Is that what happened? Is that honestly the truth, or are you downplaying it?"

"It's the truth," I promised. "I was dead, Tali. I didn't _choose_ to do anything. It just…happened."

"So either way, I would have lost one friend that night. Liara or Ashley. Your interference—even though it was an accident—tipped the scales in one direction. That's what you're telling me now. Correct?"

As chilled as I was by her composure, I said, "That's right. I'm…sorry, Tali. I know how much you loved her. How much you still do. I took Liara away from you. Not Ash. I'm the one to blame for this."

Tali bored the brights of her eyes straight through me.

I forced myself not to look away from her.

I braced myself for a sudden outburst. Sudden emotion from her. Another, sudden change about her.

She had every right to yell and scream at me. To cry if she wanted. To take her frustrations out on me.

I was willing to let Tali do that, as my duty to her. I conveyed as much with my own eyes.

And yet, she chose another direction.

Evening skies reddening around us, heartfelt and sincere: Tali summoned all of her devotion for me.

She simply replied with, "Understood, Captain."

I was the one who didn't understand. "Tali…?"

"We can't change the past. All we can do is move forward. Things would certainly be different if you had done more with me _before_ admitting this. You chose to restrain yourself. You prioritized your honesty with me. It's more than I can say with you. I can't get into why. I've already made my own decisions."

Feigning ignorance, I asked, "Is this about Liara, too?"

"Yes, it is about her."

"Well, she clearly has your loyalty."

"She does. Even in death. It's my way of honoring her memory. That's all I can say on the matter."

"I respect that," I told her.

"I should take some time to process this," insisted Tali. "Despite how I'm acting now, it's safe to say that I'm upset. More than upset. I'm just choosing not to show it. I don't see the point. Being angry at you won't solve anything. It won't change anything. Hating you won't bring my best friend back to me."

"You deserve to feel however you're going to feel. If that means hating me, I can take it."

"No, don't tell me that! It's almost like you don't care. _That_ is the last thing I need right now…"

"Tali, I do care," I expressed. "I've always cared about you. Even when I didn't act like it. You've had my back since day one. I can never repay you for that. I can never make up for what I did, either. But I want to try. I'm making you a promise now: if there's anything you need in the future—anything I can do for you at all—just ask. Call in that favor, and I'll take care of it. You have that privilege from now on."

"I'll keep that in mind," said Tali, terse.

Worrying now, I had to know, "Do you plan on leaving the team over this?"

"…I'm not going anywhere."

"Okay," I replied. "If you ever change your mind, I'll understand. No hard feelings."

Tali gave a quiet, cynical sort of laugh.

"I won't ever change my mind. If you only knew how I truly feel, you wouldn't say such things. Even still, I can't be around you in the same ways. So don't…don't talk to me unless you need something."

I caught her implications.

Her expected implications.

And even though I'd expected this, and prepared for this—her words wounded me at my core.

Whether the whole incident was my fault or not, the obvious truth remained.

I had failed her.

"All right… I'll see you around, Tali."

As she walked away, it took everything in me to let her go. Figuratively and otherwise.

Only when Tali disappeared beyond my view did I give up watching her wake. I turned to lean over this same railing she had been on. I stared out at these same sights that would watch over us both during the rest of shore leave. Shore leave that we would undoubtedly spend apart, entirely. I would be with Miranda instead, as I had chosen in totality. Not just today, but always. I'd made this consistent choice.

 _Everything_ that had happened had really led me to Miranda, exactly as I'd told her.

To her and only her, leading me away from everyone else. Liara, Ashley, Tali, Aria. All of them. Everyone.

If I was completely honest with myself, this type of loss was foreign to me.

I had never in my life chosen to be faithful like this. Not just sexually, but emotionally as well. I had never, ever made myself vulnerable to this type of pain, this type of loss. I would always hold onto someone else in the background, in some way. In case the woman I was with disappointed me somehow, I'd have another person to fall back on. Another option. Another justification to keep me from devoting myself to one woman and one woman only. All to prevent a catastrophe that had almost happened with Ashley before—that nightmare scenario, even if not to that specific extreme. I could have my own sense of security and safety by not giving my all to one person, in case they hurt me like that. So I would keep parts of myself locked away, or sealed off, or reserved for other women, dividing my feelings and my attention between them. To protect myself.

To protect myself from this exact sadness hollowing me out, reddening my eyes in a sorrowful burn.

 _When_ Miranda inevitably hurt me, I wouldn't have anyone to fall back on. I couldn't. Not this time.

Self-preservation wasn't love. _Selfishness_ wasn't love…as I had learned from Ashley quite well by now.

* * *

Taking some more time to myself, I'd held off on calling Miranda for a while.

I'd spent this time in the same spot. Staring out at the same horizon. Thinking over the same problems.

But I eventually arrived at all the same conclusions. I wanted to stay on this path. Miranda hurting me at some point was inevitable, just as I would hurt her. Not on purpose. Never that. As long as we continued to give each other the benefit of the doubt, I trusted that we would always work things out together.

I felt myself waning anyway. Almost dissociating. I didn't like being this honest with myself. Not at all.

With these sentiments in mind, I finally decided to call her through our private frequency.

Miranda answered right away. _"Shepard. I was starting to worry about you. How did it go?"_

That question of hers held too many echoes of the Illusive Man.

I set aside this lingering envy of mine, replying, "I guess it went well enough. Tali doesn't want to speak to me. That probably won't change. At least not for a long time."

_"I'm sorry… I know you likely prepared for this. But it must still hurt."_

"Yeah, it does."

_"Do you need some time alone? If you'd rather postpone our plans for tonight and tomorrow…"_

"That depends. Did you start cooking already?"

_"No, I held off. I wasn't sure if you'd have an appetite or not. We don't need to have dinner."_

I wasn't hungry at all. But I still wanted to see her. I just wasn't sure how to explain this—or the rest.

Miranda decided for us: _"Shepard, listen. Let's not make a big deal out of anything tonight. Whatever you're comfortable with, that's what we'll do. I really only made plans for tomorrow. I can cancel those if you prefer. There's no pressure."_

Glancing up at this cloudy violet sky, I felt my emotions pricking at my eyesight again. That was all I would allow. Nothing more. Miranda's consideration, and her willingness to bend over backward for me—she somehow made me feel as if I didn't deserve her. After all, she was about to trust me with her most vulnerable self. Her most shameful and intimate secrets. And here I was, wondering if I had lost too much time; spent too many years putting myself and my own preservation first, without learning how to _actually_ be with someone. I knew that the solution was to stay on this path with her, as I wanted. I refused to run away. I only started to realize how simple it had been, back then, to run. To avoid this.

Willing myself to stay in one place, even as I knew Miranda would hurt me…this was such a change.

_A revelation._

And yet I wanted to try for her. To do my best for her. To be my very best—for her.

"I'm not hungry, babe," I said. "You don't have to cook anything. I still want to see you at your apartment tonight. We can go out tomorrow, too. Don't cancel your plans for us. It's okay."

Miranda seemed relieved enough. _"Are you sure?"_

"Yes, I'm sure. Did you find out what's going on with Shiala? When can we talk to her?"

_"Shiala has some business to take care of first. But she'll be available to speak with us in the next few days. I'll let you know as soon as she's able."_

"Sounds like a plan. What about your birth control meds? Did you get that taken care of?"

_"The med clinic just called me. They said I can go pick up my meds soon. I was going to head over now."_

"Send me the coordinates," I requested. "I'll meet you there. Then we can go back to your place."

_"Shepard, there's really no need… They're going to make me wait some more, and probably make me answer a few other questions. It'll be a lot of waiting and sitting around in a lobby filled with people. Other, very nosey people who will know why we're there. I know how much you hate the attention."_

"Miranda. Please. You're my girlfriend. I want to be there with you. This is important."

Something about my words—my steadfast tone, my intent—got through to her.

All she did was send the med clinic's coordinates straight to my omni-tool.

I went over to the nearest rapid transit station. "I'm on my way."

 _"Thank you,"_ she whispered. _"I'm driving there as we speak. I won't be long. Nos Astra's traffic is far more manageable than San Diego's. It won't take us an hour or more to get around from place to place."_

"What is it?" I asked, sensing more to her own tone, her own meaning and intent.

First, Miranda brought up something seemingly unrelated: _"Do you mind if we stay on the line?"_

"I'd like that, actually. But I know there's something else on your mind. Tell me."

Miranda went silent again.

I knew she was still there—I could hear her deepened breathing over the line. I heard it with more clarity once I got into the rapid transit car. The darkened, air conditioned interior of this space had the perfect acoustics, letting me listen to Miranda's every reaction and non-reaction. The tinted windows kept the beauty of Nos Astra's sights from distracting me too much in this sunset. I could feel Miranda's own beauty radiating through her silence. Not just in looks, but in character. How susceptible she was to every little thing I did. No matter how I held myself or behaved or spoke or believed, she would always have an acute reaction. _I mattered to her._ And it was the exact same on my end, with her.

"Hey. Talk to me. What are you thinking about?"

_"Shepard, there's this thing you do… When you're more serious about something, your voice tends to get deeper. Steadier. Not that your voice isn't always deep and steady. It's just—more so. More so now."_

"Well, I wanna know what's up with you. Is that so wrong?"

_"No, not at all. I like that you want to know. Maybe I want you to be nosey with me as well."_

"Mmm, I bet you do."

Miranda laughed a little. _"Certainly,"_ she teased. _"If you must know…I was caught up with what you said. You called me your girlfriend, for one. Hearing it is rather surreal. Plus, there was something else. Perhaps you didn't do this on purpose. You just—gave me more reassurance. You gave me security. You're giving it to me again, now that you're on your way to meet me at this clinic. I need this certainty from you—with you. I find it incredibly romantic. Even sexy. Feeling secure with you is everything to me."_

"I had a feeling that was the case. I'm taking this seriously. I mean it."

_"I enjoy that you are. I truly do. Especially because I know you've never done this before."_

"You do know everything about me. But would you say it's an obvious thing?"

_"I wouldn't necessarily say that it's obvious. You're used to being on your own. Not having to answer to anyone. You've had mostly bad experiences with relationships. It's only natural that you'd assume the same will happen with us. And yet here you are, providing for me in this way. It's quite remarkable."_

I couldn't tell her that this wasn't easy.

I couldn't admit how difficult this really was.

I couldn't share this one thing. All to keep some part of myself from her.

Not out of a need to keep secrets. But because I wanted to keep a bit of distance between us. Only a bit.

Just enough to maintain some kind of control in our relationship. To remind us both who was in charge.

"I've always been great at _saying_ I would do this for someone. This is the first time I'm actually doing it."

 _"For me,"_ she said, needing to hear herself say it.

"Yes, Miranda. It's for you. I can't see myself making these decisions for anyone else."

_"What made you decide to do this? Why me, Shepard?"_

That wanton curiosity in Miranda's tone gave away more than just curiosity itself.

It was almost as if she needed to know. She needed to hear the words; she needed the validation.

Deep and dark inside of me: this well of her insecurities provided endless opportunities to reassure her, to please her. Miranda would forever need my validation, my approval. She had enough confidence of her own, definitely. But this one thing remained. She couldn't exist without me; she couldn't stop from worrying herself sick if I left her alone again. She couldn't function without me…and I needed that, too.

As abused as she'd been in the past—by the Illusive Man, in illusions, and by her father, in obviousness—Miranda was particularly vulnerable. Anyone else in my position could've done some real damage to her psyche. And I felt like she would've stayed regardless. Trying to love them anyway.

Shouldering more responsibilities beyond Miranda's view, I told her, "You're one of a kind, that's why. I love how perfect you are. How beautiful you are. In every way imaginable. You've suffered, but you're here with me. You're stepping out of your comfort zone in a lot of ways. I know you wouldn't do this for just anyone. It's special. So I want to return the favor. This is my way of doing that."

_"I adore hearing that from you. Very much so. You know exactly how to stroke my ego. Genuinely."_

We spent the rest of this separate ride talking some more. Not about anything in particular. Miranda just liked hearing my voice. She liked hearing me speak. She loved what we had, how we expressed ourselves. As we spoke together, I felt acutely aware of my surroundings. The dusk's rays outside had dimmed even through these tinted windows, nighttime rising already. I rubbed at my arms, feeling the air conditioned chill that had layered over my skin, and over my Alliance fatigues. I felt everything.

Feeling and sensing in clarity—it was so, so clear to me how Miranda felt. I heard it in her voice. I picked up on that timber of hers, enamored and full and unending. I could've started talking about the weather, or galactic news, or even about some random, pointless object, and it wouldn't matter. She would still sound like this. She would still be on this verge where she wanted me to kiss her through our omni-tools. She would still give off this vibe through her voice, wanting and needing me to have sex with her.

Miranda was completely in love with me.

Humbled by this realization, I tempered myself as my transit arrived to the med clinic.

Exiting the car, I found myself in the packed parking lot just outside the building. Plenty of humans walked in and out of the front doors—alone, or with their families, not quite spotting me yet. Too many clouds overhead kept me from spotting Illium's moon anywhere. And even in this open area, rising high up to the skies already, other buildings nearby rose up higher still, dwarfing this place. Grounded and critical as this clinic was, it made sense to have this lower foundation instead. The lights shone on through the windows, with the clinic itself expecting to be open well into the night. Pure dedication.

Not long afterward, I saw the obviousness of Miranda's approach to the parking lot. _Obvious,_ because even though I didn't know what her skycar looked like, the one I saw just now spoke for itself. All-black in luxury, she descended her car in a show of control and poise in her driving. I automatically knew to walk over to her, finding Miranda in the driver's seat. Through her own tinted windows, I could see that bashful smirk on her face, realizing that I'd picked her out with ease.

I waited right outside her car door.

She opened her door, and stepped out, letting me help her as much.

Having her hand in mine like this as I guided her, I couldn't help admiring this moment. That step with her boots, I found too sexy for a time like this. Miranda had reapplied her perfume, too, with that midnight allure filling my inhales and defining my exhales. As ever, her sophistication went on and on.

"Hey, babe," I said, easing my kiss over her forehead. "I like your car. It's pretty nice."

Miranda simpered. "I'm glad you like it."

Knowing that other people stared at us now, I didn't care—I embraced her anyway. I needed her to know how I felt, even if I wouldn't say it. I needed her to feel what I knew, even if I wouldn't do more. She fell into me—as much as she would allow herself in public—muffling her moans against my chest.

"Shepard…"

"Thanks for letting me come with you."

"Thank you for insisting on it. I realized I would've regretted not bringing you along. It's a good thing you changed my mind. I do need to be more open with you about things like this. We're making progress."

I held Miranda's hand in mine, walking with her inside the med clinic.

We did our best to ignore the other people around. Or at least I did. Miranda did seem a little anxious about it. Especially once we sat down in the open waiting area. I kept her hand in mine. Supportive. Secure. Strong. She relaxed, somewhat, with my continued efforts. Even as I traced my thumb over hers, Miranda calmed down eventually. Over time.

But as she crossed her legs, I noticed she kept moving her ankle. Bouncing, fidgeting.

I leaned my leg over to hers, nudging her thigh with my knee.

Self-conscious all of a sudden, Miranda stopped moving altogether.

I just smiled to keep from laughing.

After a short while, one of the doctors called her over. I made to stand right as Miranda did. More insistent this time, she settled her hand over my chest, having me sit back down.

"Wait for me, Shepard," she requested. "Stay here. Really, it's all right."

I figured she was embarrassed enough as it was with so many eyes on us.

Even the doctor stared on at us, curious and intrigued.

"Whatever you want, babe," I conceded, staying in my seat. "I'll wait for you."

"I'll be back soon."

As she disappeared into another area with the doctor, I felt my mind start to wander. Suddenly, it sunk in—why we were here at all. Averting, or postponing that possibility of having kids together… Obviously, this was the responsible thing to do. We had our mission, after all. Against the Collectors; against the Reapers afterward. We didn't have the time or the freedom to be normal, unlike the people around us. Those people staring at me, still—some with their husbands or wives, with their own kids. Some who were here alone, looking like they wanted someone with them, just like I was for Miranda, as support.

Any other time, during a wait like this, I would've put my headphones on. Listening to music.

I couldn't even remind myself to do that much.

Too many thoughts caught up to me about this situation: how I'd seen these possibilities when Miranda and I had our first kiss together. I'd imagined everything with her. Absolutely everything. Even this.

Not the aversion. Not the postponement. But the actual process. The actual experience. That life as one.

I almost couldn't believe where I was at, emotionally.

I'd never wanted these things with anyone else before. I'd hardly even conceived of the idea.

These thoughts, these fantasies served as clear reminders for me. More reasons to fight. More reasons to succeed. I had still more reasons to give this mission my all—winning our future together someday.

I just couldn't get too caught up with this.

Not this quickly. And not this soon.

Soon enough, though, Miranda came back into the waiting area.

Automatic, I stood up from my seat. As tall as I was, I attracted even more attention, immediate. Miranda stopped in her tracks with this attention. Everyone noticed us. Their heads turned to look at her; to look at me, making this statement for her. This statement with my respect, with my honor.

Red in the face, Miranda walked back over to me.

She bundled my arm in both of hers, pulling me out the clinic, to the parking lot.

She wouldn't say anything as we returned to her car. I assumed she had everything she needed.

As much as Miranda wouldn't say anything, I helped her into the driver's seat anyway. She accepted my help, even though much of the red in her face had yet to leave. I made my way around to the passenger's side. And then we were off, driving through Illium's well-managed traffic to her apartment.

She at least let me hold her hand as she drove. Silence pervading, I focused on these details on her car. By this persistent smell of Miranda's perfume everywhere, I figured she'd spritzed that aroma over her while in here, and not at home. The constant brights of the headlights and taillights from the other cars: they seemed to shine brighter in this night, as the clouds overhead grew darker and thicker. Rain loomed as a real possibility soon enough, with the skies rumbling in a non-intrusive thunder. Quieted, restrained. It was only a matter of time before the rainstorm decided to pass over us.

Miranda drove a bit faster.

We made it to her complex's indoor parking lot just in time. Right as we passed through the secure entrance, the skies grew alight with lightning, rain cascading through the winds. I was pleased to find that Miranda had her own private parking space, too. Reserved for her and her alone—we didn't have to waste time driving around to find another space instead. So many other cars populated this darkened lot. Expecting the rain, everyone else who lived here must've settled for a night in during the storm.

Taking the elevator up to the 60th floor, I found a preview of sorts. Brightened lighting, smooth, slick silver surfaces, and a sterile white, everywhere—I figured Miranda's apartment would be something like this. I had even more reasons to assume as much: these hallways filled with apartment doors looked very much the same. Emotionless, straightforward. Not quite clinical, but almost. Direct and to-the-point.

When Miranda unlocked the door to her apartment, I found a continuation of the rest, flavored as her:

So much open space—this tall, tall ceiling spanned up past the two floors, expanding well up and above. Darkened once again, the height of the windows let in enough light from the rest of Nos Astra. Past the rain ebbing down the windows—over the kinetic barriers there—Illium's skyscrapers peeked through the night, those purple window lights shining on. Other cars raced past in silence, noise neutralized.

Lightning strikes flickered the harsh shadows over the walls, everywhere.

More white and silver and slick surfaces I saw in the kitchen's open space.

The wide, winding staircase led upstairs to Miranda's unobstructed bedroom, even more open. Sitting directly above the kitchen.

I spotted an office space beneath the stairs, next to the living room.

And the living room itself had those windows, the storm shining over the couches and vid screen there.

Perfectly clean, Miranda's apartment fit her well enough. Such a sense of hyper-organization jumped out at me, too. Just from a glance, nothing seemed out of place or _wrong._ She'd probably spent a long time cleaning an already clean living space, all for me, knowing that I would be here with her tonight.

Miranda's voice adapted to the climate, widening in a minor echo: "Are you sure you don't want anything to eat? Or perhaps something to drink."

"Don't worry about it," I told her. "I'm good. Unless you're hungry."

"I'm not. Admittedly, my stomach is in knots right about now. I don't think eating anything will help."

I smiled over her meaning.

"Well…make yourself at home," said Miranda. She clearly needed a moment. "Do you mind if I leave to freshen up and get changed? I'm going to take my new meds. They should kick in overnight. The miracles of modern medicine. You're free to look around as much as you'd like in the meantime."

"I don't mind at all. Go ahead. I'll be here."

"All right, then."

She retreated to the bathroom nearby, locking herself in there.

Smiling a bit more, I took this time to scope out the apartment in detail. Like the shower water running behind the bathroom door, the constant pattering of the rainfall along the windows kept me company.

Across from the kitchen, I took special note of the black and white art on the walls. Dark, dramatic photographs from grand performances: talented ballerinas in stunning poses, full orchestras in-sync with one another, and emotive actors reenacting some of Earth's most historic literary tales. Staring at these pictures, I realized I'd never been to any type of play or opera or live performance before. I already wasn't a fan of musicals, so the next best thing hadn't seemed too appealing to me. But Miranda was definitely an art connoisseur. Maybe I'd have to reconsider a few things when taking her out in the future.

Wandering into the kitchen directly, I noticed even more of a contrast to my apartment. Miranda had so many drinks everywhere. Lined and on display, she had her wines, teas, and champagnes sorted and organized. Looked like they were in alphabetical order. I imagined she had plenty of silver kettles and honey hidden away in the cabinets. She likely had an encyclopedic knowledge of where everything was.

Oddly enough, Miranda had one type of drink that wasn't expertly organized away. On the silver counter near the refrigerator, she had a bunch of bottles of bourbon lined up there. American bourbon. The same browned drink the Illusive Man usually had a glass of during our briefings and debriefings. Some of the bottles were empty. Others were only half-full. The empty ones—and the sheer amount of them—stood out to me, glimmering as they did in the flashes of lightning from outside.

Why did she have so many of these?

Did Miranda have a bad habit of drinking during certain times? Stress-drinking?

Humming in worry, I made a mental note of the possibility.

I went over to the office space, behind the stairs separating the kitchen from this area. I felt drawn to the red-orange glow from Miranda's multiple monitors on the wall. That low lighting dimmed over the shadows everywhere, including the long desk just underneath the screens. With this glow, and the fainter one from the desk lamp, I could see the impeccable cleanliness of Miranda's workspace. Books lined in perfect order, datapads catalogued and accounted for—everything lined up with each corner and line and edge, structural and cohesive. I saw the same story with the textbooks along the shelves over the wall: medical texts, instruction manuals, and tons of catalogues of printed Cerberus reports.

On the adjacent wall, opposite her computer monitors, I found something else framed there:

Miranda's master's degree. She'd earned her Master of Medicine double major in medical science and biology…from the University of California in Irvine. And she'd graduated with the summa cum laude honor—the highest possible distinction, saved for only the most outstanding students. With Miranda, that was no surprise. I remembered UCI had one of the best medical schools on Earth. The med school in San Diego—at UCSD—might've been another option for her. I wasn't sure if she hadn't considered it, or if she'd outright rejected the idea, because of my hometown. Funny how she chose not to mention it.

I could've gone up to her room next. Upstairs. There was nothing else up there except for the single bedroom. Miranda's fish tank lit up that space, the effervescent blue filtering down to me in temptation. I really wanted to go up there, but I chose not to. I couldn't. Not unless Miranda invited me up first.

So I completed my personal tour by visiting the living room instead.

Miranda only had two leather couches here, and a glass coffee table in the center, with her large vid screen hanging over some of the windows. She didn't have much on the table aside from a few coasters—again, each laid out in a meticulous sense of order. No collections of any sort. Nothing physical, anyway. I figured she had a sizable digital collection of her favorite films and art performances. But aside from the art across from the kitchen, she didn't really have any decorations…

Then again, I noticed something was a little off—there on the wall opposite her TV.

I saw what looked like a few blank spaces. Square, frame-like residue remained along five different spots. Almost as if Miranda used to have other frames hanging here. She'd recently taken them down.

No amount of cleaning or refusing-to-turn-on-the-lights could hide that evidence.

Curious now, I looked around for the frames. I found them just underneath the stairs, by her office, sitting there face-down. They were almost hidden here. _Almost._ Everything was almost organized—almost, almost. The few corners out of place, and the few lines not running parallel to each other spoke volumes. Miranda had put these here at the last minute. She hadn't taken that painstaking time to ensure that everything aligned perfectly, like the rest of the items throughout her apartment.

What was Miranda trying to hide from me?

I picked up the topmost frame. This thing weighed a ton. Wielding it as best as I could, I turned it around, moving it out to the red-orange light of her monitors in the office. And once I got a better look at this was, I understood why this wasn't on the wall anymore.

This photograph was of me. In color. From my modeling days.

Just a simple picture of me on the runway. I had on a slim, black three-piece suit, with a white dress shirt and black vest underneath. Black tie, hair tied back in my usual long tail: I must've been about twenty-three, twenty-four years old here. Frozen as I was in this frame, I picked out a certain power in my walk, and in the severity of my stare. The audience around me, beneath me, barely fit into the frame. What I could spot of them, they seemed enamored by my presence. Practically in awe of me.

I didn't like comparing myself to the sun. But there was something about this lighting that made my complexion pop and stand out, exactly in that way.

Doing my best to peek at the rest of the hidden frames, I found that they were all photographs of me.

Every single one of them.

I only put them away once I heard Miranda shut off her shower in the bathroom.

The rain outside persisted. I went over to the windows in the living room, reflecting on my reflection.

Because my reflection had absolutely lived in this space for a long time.

I understood that Miranda had chosen to live here on Illium to keep a closer watch on her twin sister. Oriana attended one of the universities here; twins as they were, they clearly weren't the same age. I'd expected to maybe find some pictures of her around. Instead, Miranda only had photographs of me, along with the rest of her artsy decorations. I knew I wasn't just a decoration to her. This was personal.

I started wondering how deep this truly went on Miranda's end.

I could never know her mind. Not completely.

Yet I'd started to get the sense that there was much more to this. She depended on me in so many ways. And I'd always liked that about her. But now I thought about just how much Miranda chose to conceal—on that personal, vulnerable level. After all, she'd admitted that she felt like she didn't exist without me.

With her new status—being with me—Miranda felt like someone now. She'd never felt this way before. Not even with her own status, working for Cerberus at such a high level: able to afford the riches of her car, her wardrobe, her apartment, her art, her alcohol, and everything else. Not even with this view of Illium's cityscape at night—she only felt like someone with me. She'd defined her entire identity around whether or not I knew she existed; whether Oriana knew she existed. In that loss, that state of non-being, she'd turned to selling her dominant sexual services to nameless people. Fucking faceless women. Giving them what they wanted. Never taking the time to focus on her own needs.

Messed up in that way, I could only imagine how she'd lost her mind in some sense. I didn't blame her.

That life had been everything she'd known.

Now, everything had changed. She'd given me the power to decide if she really existed or not.

This type of love had always seemed ideal to me.

Miranda's heart had been numb for so long, after all. Living that dispensable life. Never allowing herself to fail—unacceptable. Because everything she'd been through had made her stronger. Every day, she'd learned more about herself. And nothing really played out how it was supposed to—even though she didn't depend on her father's wealth anymore, having carved out her own path, her own fortune. She knew her value, and I certainly had enough money to spend on her. I loved the way she put herself together, knowing her worth—and soon enough she'd make her body bend for me, over and over again.

Specialized and trained even in her anxiety, Miranda exited the bathroom at such an opportune time.

She went to the kitchen first. I heard her moving around in there: the softness of her light, bare footsteps; opening her refrigerator, closing it; sounds of her lace nightdress shifting around her body, the firm shapes of her thighs; the gentle clinks of her nails along bottles of alcohol, selecting, choosing.

All those nights she'd spent without me, barely holding her own;

Blaming herself for life doing her wrong;

Such a lack of freedom, the soul draining from her eyes, all to that ice blue coldness, steely as the surfaces here in her home;

She'd somehow taught herself to smile, figuratively and literally. Every touch she'd sold before me had been a lie. She had it made, and yet this single dream of hers couldn't come true—until now.

Now that she walked over to me, holding a glass in her hand. Approaching me with caution, respect.

Miranda's reverence for me glowed in her reflection over the window.

That steel of her eyes had melted all over again for me.

Even her slavishness felt entirely sophisticated.

"Shepard," she said softly. "I brought you a drink. It's moscato. If we won't have dinner, then at least accept this from me. We'll do more tomorrow. I'll go all out for you. I promise."

I was about to turn around—but Miranda walked over to my side instead. Gazing up into my eyes, she handed me the chilled glass. The golden glow of this white wine burgeoned more in her light, beaming.

"Thanks for this," I accepted, before sipping.

Just as soft, she needed to know: "Do you like it?"

This sweetness was pure heaven. Such a light, pleasant feeling flowed through me right away.

"Yeah, I do. It's good."

Miranda smiled in satisfaction. "I hoped you would. I'll be sure to get you some more."

She had so many sentiments ready to burst from her heart. But she kept them inside, mostly.

Of those feelings, I could tell exactly how much she enjoyed having me here. It didn't matter whether we spoke or not, whether we did anything or not. For Miranda, it was enough to look up at me as I sipped this moscato she'd picked out. It was more than enough to be here next to me. To have me at home with her.

And as much as she restrained herself, I felt how excitable she was in this moment.

We weren't having sex tonight. But tomorrow night instead? That was a real possibility.

I had to make sure: "Babe, did you want me to spend the night?"

"Yes, I do… I don't have anything planned for us. But I don't want you to go back to the ship. I want you to stay. I want you to sleep in my bed. I need you to hold me through the night. Even just this once."

"Okay, then. I'll stay here tonight."

Eternally grateful, Miranda smiled more.

She took my free hand in hers, leading me upstairs.

Those hidden photographs of me beneath the staircase seemed to call out as we went.

As with that glowing blue from the fish tank, I heard the bubbling sounds of the water, soothing and serene. The tank itself sat raised behind the headboard of Miranda's queen-sized bed. More black and white bedding, pillows and duvet and all. Two nightstands rested at either side, with a few self-help books about sex and relationships on top of one surface, and a smaller picture frame on the other.

The stand closer to the stairs had the picture in view:

This picture was also of me. From years ago, back when I made N7, during my graduation at Arcturus Station. I was in my formal Alliance uniform, saluting my instructor in front of me. Never one to smile, not even for an occasion like this, I remembered how annoyed I'd been at the time. I hated ceremonies. I'd just wanted to get the whole thing over with. It didn't really show in my face. My usual seriousness hid the rest well enough.

Not noticing my notice, Miranda had me sit down on the bed. She knelt down to the floor, the smooth surface holding the blued light from the aquarium; the bluer shadows from the bed and the nightstand. At this lower level, Miranda was meticulous about taking my combat boots off for me. She set them aside with such a loving care. And then she stayed at that level, resting her head over my lap. She burrowed my hand in both of hers, lowered more beneath her face, almost tickled by the falling tresses of her hair. Even more meticulous, she kissed every part of my hand she could reach, one spot at a time.

I sipped more of my wine, watching her. Feeling her.

Each time her lips graced my knuckles, the pads of my fingers, my palm—I felt a new dimension of her lips, the shape of them. Curled over me, she tasted away the faint chill lingering from the wine glass; she tasted away the day on me, of all that I'd seen and done over these hours. Miranda could have done this for an eternity. All without stopping. Pure consecration she gave me, with or without meaning to.

The thunder and lightning outside lightened and deepened this meaning from her.

Miranda only stopped to breathe, to whisper with her head still bowed—"I don't know what's come over me… Having you here feels like a dream. It _is_ a dream. Surely it must be."

"It's not a dream," I told her. "I'm here. You're with me. And we have this time all to ourselves."

Still in disbelief, Miranda stayed there in place.

Vulnerable as she was, the lightning flashed over her curled body. The exposed nape of her neck. Her bare legs, bent and kneeling, rising up to that high cut of her nightdress. Even though she'd turned on the heating system at some point, I still saw the chills rising along her neck, her arms, and her shoulders. Maybe not from the cold. Maybe just from the surreal sense of the moment. She couldn't believe this.

Gently, I pulled at her arm. Upward, speaking for itself.

Miranda accepted my momentum. She moved up with me. As she did, she was considerate enough to free the wine glass from my hand, setting it over the nightstand instead. We moved enough to set the duvet and sheets over, and to move under them. I was specific about positioning us, where we lay.

I made sure that I stayed on this side of the bed, closer to the stairs. Just in case.

I trusted her security VI to keep the apartment safe. But this was more of an old-fashioned thing for me.

Miranda understood my intentions. And she melted into me as I held her, needing this security for the sake of it. Because I gave it to her, and no one else. Because I wanted to; because I chose to. Because I wanted to protect her from any possibility, known or unknown. Even if I couldn't actually succeed, I would fight, and I would defend her anyway. Doing nothing and running away would've been far worse.

As with everything else, our relationship, it was the same. The exact same idea. The same significance.

I knew, she knew—we didn't have to say a word, falling asleep with this new beginning.


	41. Professional

_"Professional" by The Weeknd_

**XLI.** Professional

_(Miranda)_

High as an ideal, this new reality had consumed me.

I had wanted to be here for years and years. Entire chapters of my life propelled to reach this moment:

Lying in my bed, in Shepard's arms, the middle of the night—I centered my oldest habits.

Many years and many a night I had spent in this bed. Wishing for this moment. Chastising myself for it. Feeling like a fool over it all. Managing my expectations had turned into suppressing my purest wants. Suppressing my purest wants had turned into hating my own thoughts, my own emotions. Hating those had warped and twisted me rotten and paranoid, far past anything I could recall. I'd repressed it all.

That was then, and this was now.

Now, I could look over at Shepard and find her sleeping soundly.

Such a fine sheen coated her complexion, blued from the lighting of my fish tank acting as a night light. Shaped in her sleep, Shepard continued to scowl as usual. But more in a softness this time. Softness of habit, as softly as she breathed, even as she held me with a firmness, so secure. Faintly, the ongoing storm outside flashed more lights over her skin, and the blue of her Alliance shirt. I stared at her, all of her, transfixed by this moment, by this ever-present memory—what she represented. What she meant.

I knew better than to weight my entire sense of worth on another person.

Yet knowing that the most powerful being in the galaxy had chosen me, I began to wonder about that.

Gently did I touch her face, smooth as wetted ice without the freeze. The length of her jaw, shapely and stern and sharp, I felt myself marveling over—as anyone would. Even now she had my heart fluttering as she slept on through the night. She didn't have to say a word to me. Devilish in her beautiful, handsome, capable ways, Shepard's worth radiated from her whether she was awake or not, aware or not. She could have had anyone, and yet she was at home with me, in my bed, holding me through the night.

I could never know Shepard completely. Even with all the knowledge I already had of her. She would remain a mystery in some ways. Though I certainly welcomed it. We couldn't grow complacent.

Although, the way she held me close to her chest spoke so much. Subconsciously, she needed me.

Fully conscious of this meaning as well, my heart only swelled more in response, completely fulfilled.

Unexpected, my omni-tool lit up with an alert, silenced as it was automatically at this late-early hour. Situating myself as carefully as I could—to avoid waking Shepard—I decided to see what this was about. I felt at least a mild concern, assuming this was someone from the team. I had made myself available to everyone in this way, giving them permission to message me at any time. Everyone knew that Shepard and I were technically insomniacs, and thus had no need to sleep. So there was no real harm in reaching out to me, whenever. I could only wonder who it was that had actually taken me up on my offer.

And once I opened my private inbox, I wasn't exactly surprised to see:

_[04:16:44] Jack: Hey, Princess. You busy? I know it's a really weird time or whatever. Sorry. You said I could PM you whenever I wanted. Im taking you up on your offer I guess. Kinda drunk right now_

_[04:17:41] Me: Good morning, Jack. I'm not busy at all. I have time for you. What are you doing up at this hour?_

_[04:18:01] Jack: Got laid earlier now I can't sleep_

_[04:18:21] Me: I see. Were you drinking before this happened?_

_[04:18:58] Jack: We had a lot to drink. Made the sex pretty good. She's been out like a light this whole time. Im bored at her place. Not the wake-up-the-next-morning kind of person though. Gotta leave soon_

_[04:19:11] Me: If that's what you feel is best. How exactly did all of this happen?_

_[04:20:29] Jack: So there was this hot asari chick back at Eternity. We hit it off quick then went out for a wild night at this one lesbian club. You know how close Illium is to turning into Omega? I heard there was an ardat-yakshi killing someone else with sex in one of the stalls. It was crazy. Anyway the asari I met brought me to her apartment and we fell into her bed. I fucked her a few times now she's sleeping_

_[04:20:50] Me: An ardat-yakshi…? Do you mean the asari with a rare genetic mutation? The one that causes them to kill with sex and experience pleasure from the act. They become stronger with each kill._

_[04:21:08] Jack: Yeah one of those. I didnt see her myself. Just heard what was going on. She and the girl got into a fight and then it turned into some sex killing thing. We had to leave the club when the cops showed up. Don't think they caught her_

_[04:21:39] Me: Well, ardat-yakshi don't typically make themselves visible. They need to remain discreet in order to avoid detection. If she killed the person to make an example out of her, that would explain her lack of subtlety. Though it definitely sounds like you had a wild night, as you said. Do you do this often?_

_[04:21:48] Jack: What do you mean?_

_[04:22:13] Me: Hooking up with strangers is what I mean. I'm only curious. I remember you were the last one back on the ship after our time at Afterlife. Kasumi claims you'd found someone else to sleep with that night as well._

_[04:22:33] Jack: Kasumi's a mega fucking stalker but yeah. Its usually how I blow off steam_

_[04:22:45] Me: And why did you need to blow off steam in the first place? Are you all right?_

_[04:23:04] Jack: I don't know. Thats why I messaged you_

_[04:23:09] Me: Why did you think of me?_

_[04:23:20] Jack: Figured you were in a good mood_

_[04:23:28] Me: Perhaps so, but why would you imagine that?_

_[04:24:04] Jack: Look, Miranda, I seriously don't know! Like maybe you just got laid too and you'd feel like listening to my damn sob story. Aren't you with Shepard right now?_

_[04:24:21] Me: I am with her, yes. But that's not what we did last night._

_[04:24:32] Jack: Oh shit for real?! Does that no gossiping about Shepard rule apply to PMs too?_

_[04:24:53] Me: Technically, the rule only applies to the main room. But if word got around that people began spreading their private message gossip with one another, I would have to take drastic action._

_[04:25:12] Jack: I wanna talk to you about that stuff. Something tells me you won't just take my word if I swear not to tell anyone_

_[04:25:23] Me: If we continue to speak like this, and I learn to trust you, then I'll consider it._

_[04:25:40] Jack: Yeah that's cool. I gotta spill my guts to you first right?_

_[04:26:01] Me: It would certainly help if you told me what's bothering you._

_[04:28:38] Jack: Im in a weird place, that's all. I got thoughts crawling around my head like all the time. At first I thought I was getting my shit together, thinking about my parents. You know, from the files you sent me. I pictured going to find them or whatever, or at least my mom. She's a doctor and she seems really nice from what I read. I wanted to turn my life around and show her how I got better. Then that went to hell like a week ago. I've been sorta raging ever since_

_[04:28:57] Me: I understand. Would you say that the sex and drinking are a problem?_

_[04:28:12] Jack: It's a bad habit I cant stop. I told myself I'd cut it out. Cold turkey. Didn't last long. Feel like shit I couldn't even stick to this one thing. Like it's fun in the moment. Its never worth it in the end. This girl sleeping next to me is gorgeous and loaded but shes so fucking normal. I don't do normal_

_[04:28:26] Me: Have you considered weaning yourself off of those habits instead?_

_[04:28:38] Jack: What, like stopping a little bit at a time? Instead of doing it all at once_

_[04:28:46] Me: Yes, precisely. It may be more effective._

_[04:29:04] Jack: That sounds smart. I tried replacing the bad shit with something else. Didn't really work. The only thing I stopped for sure are the drugs. Shepard won't tolerate it for the mission_

_[04:29:13] Me: I'm glad you're following her orders. But what was this something else?_

_[04:29:21] Jack: Thinking? Thoughts. Like, different thoughts. Not about drugs or drinking_

_[04:29:38] Me: I can see how that might help. What would you think about?_

_[04:29:54] Jack: Shit that's definitely against the rules for the main room_

_[04:30:12] Me: About Shepard?_

_[04:30:42] Jack: Not like THAT. I just mean how you two are this ultimate power couple. I wonder about you guys a lot_

_[04:31:08] Me: I think I need a bit more persuading. Are you certain you don't want her? In that way._

_[04:31:20] Jack: Ugh come on!_

_[04:31:27] Me: Jack. Answer me._

_[04:31:58] Jack: Fine! Look, Shepard's like my dad or something. My totally distant, emotionally unavailable dad who still expects me to get my shit together. I need her to fucking notice me and approve of what I do. Yeah she's hot but she's not my type. That's how I really see her. Promise. Okay?_

_[04:32:10] Me: Hmm, I suspected as much for a while now. Thank you for sharing._

_[04:32:28] Jack: If you knew, then why the hell'd you give me the third degree?! Did you think I was lying? Shepard did the same damn thing to me when we talked before. You're both pissing me off!_

_[04:32:40] Me: I'm sorry I made you angry. I needed to know for sure._

_[04:32:59] Jack: Whatever. You gotta keep other bitches away from the commander. I get it. All I want is for her to like talk to me. What are you doing with her later today?_

_[04:33:21] Me: We have plans._

_[04:33:34] Jack: Shepard's taking you out on a date, isn't she?_

_[04:33:50] Me: If you must know, it's the other way around. I'm taking her out. I live here._

_[04:34:11] Jack: No way! I thought you were back on the ship! You have a place on Illium? So she's in your bed right now_

_[04:34:23] Me: We're at my apartment, yes._

_[04:34:50] Jack: Then why the fuck are you talking to me?! Why isn't she screwing you instead? Holy shit_

_[04:35:20] Me: Jack, this topic is still highly inappropriate._

_[04:35:44] Jack: Im just shocked. The way you're protecting her from indoctrination, I know you two get up to some kinky shit. Deviants in a good way. Plus Joker told me about Shepard's legendary "prowess"…_

_[04:36:00] Me: I'm ending this discussion now._

_[04:36:13] Jack: Okay, okay. I'll drop it. Sorry_

_[04:36:19] Me: Well, you clearly have an overactive imagination._

_[04:36:30] Jack: Nah, there's just a lot to wonder about with you two. Im not the only one_

_[04:36:58] Me: I'll let you continue wondering, then. Shouldn't you be leaving that girl's apartment soon?_

_[04:37:18] Jack: I guess I'll leave now, yeah. Since you don't wanna talk anymore. You don't have to keep hinting. I wasn't trying to upset you or anything_

_[04:37:40] Me: Don't worry about that. It's nearly dawn and you haven't slept. You should rest._

_[04:40:43] Jack: Yeah fine. I snuck out her door. Heading to the Normandy now. Thanks for talking with me, Miranda. Wasn't as bad as I thought it'd be. You're a pretty good listener. You give good advice too_

_[04:41:10] Me: Of course. I wouldn't mind us speaking again another time._

_[04:42:52] Jack: Hey, if we can piss each other off and still wanna talk again, that works for me. Why don't you hit me up tomorrow? Tomorrow-tomorrow. Not today obviously, since you have your date and all. Guessing it'll be before we pick up the next new person for the team. Maybe we can chill together_

_[04:45:11] Me: Yes, I'd like that. I'll be in touch. Out of curiosity, how will you spend your time until then?_

_[04:46:02] Jack: Think I'll go to the movies. There's this Dark Goddess reboot showing. It's supposed to be six hours long. Gotta get my asari erotica fix after the night I had. Then Zaeed wants me to be his wingman at some straight bar. Im 100% gonna get bored and bail on him after like an hour. After that I'll try to be responsible and get some VR training in. Hope I don't fuck around and get distracted_

_[04:46:22] Me: That sounds like a productive time. I wish you the best of luck, Jack. Thank you for trusting me enough to message me like this. It means a lot. Sleep well._

_[04:47:45] Jack: Trust, yeah… Uh-huh. Good night, Princess. Or good morning. You know what I mean_

* * *

Falling back asleep some time ago, I'd slipped into such a strange dream.

Constant flames had encroached around me. Heating, menacing. Never quite getting too close, but threatening as much regardless. I wasn't sure _where_ I was. Only that these fires continued to consume me. Or at least they tried. For all their efforts, they kept me locked in this dream for a long, long while. Until my other, waking senses brought me back away from those flames—and out to smell another source of heat, wafting and wading up to my bedroom. Softer, gentler, non-threatening. Peaceful.

Turned around on my side as I was, I felt the late-morning sun on my back. Those rays shone in from the windows across the way. Waking me with more heat, I smelled such a heavenly aroma of rich warmth and sugary sweetness, emanating somewhere from the kitchen just below me. Looking around, I could see that the vid screen was on downstairs. The volume wasn't at all loud enough to have woken me. And I was of course alone in bed. Shepard wasn't here. There was only one explanation for her absence.

As I sat up in bed, holding the duvet over my chest, I found more answers in this novel sunlight:

Long hair slightly damp from her recent shower, skim gleaming in the morning light, and wearing a fresh set of her Alliance fatigues—Shepard ascended the winding staircase, finding my state of utter surprise.

"Hey, sleepyhead," she said, crawling back into bed with me. "You were out for a while. I was worried."

"It was nothing to worry over," I insisted, rather sheepish. "Stuck in my dream. That's all."

Humming in concern, Shepard leaned into me more. She propped herself up along her balled fists, knuckles pressed down against the bed at either side of me. Leveraging her weight there, she made to kiss me, pressing the tempered joy of her lips against mine. I smelled the cinnamon spice of her toothpaste, and I remembered I didn't have the same—I turned my head away at the last second. She only brushed her lips along the corner of my mouth instead, smiling against my newfound scowl.

Shepard teased me, "Not a morning person, huh?"

"You aren't, either," I sulked. "Besides, we're not doing this until I've at least brushed my teeth."

Charming with her boyish grin, she asked, "Is this non-negotiable?"

"Of course it is! You know how I am about these things. I won't allow it."

Not minding my stubbornness, Shepard laughed. Something told me she would try to push her luck in the future, if only to be playful with me. And though I refused to admit it, I loved that about her, really.

I wanted to reward her anyway, for surprising me.

On my own terms, I held Shepard's face in my hands. Kissing her jaw, far enough away—this would do.

"Thank you for doing this," I whispered to her. "For being here. I enjoy waking up to you."

"Well, I had to start the day off right. I didn't make your tea, though. The kettle would've woken you."

"Yes, it would have. It's not a big deal. I can do without it. Just let me wash my face first."

"Go ahead, babe."

Taking a bit more time to wash up, I couldn't help noticing this change. Sudden nerves had accosted me—over Shepard _being here,_ over my plans for us both. I wasn't sure what she would think of everything…

First, I wanted us to go shopping. I had specific intentions with this outing. I needed to get Shepard fitted for an appropriate suit. The suit I'd always wanted to see her in. Not for our date on Illium tonight. No, the suit would be for something else…later on. Afterward, we would get ready for the evening, and go out for dinner together. I'd reserved a table for us well ahead of time. And then, the rest would depend on how we both felt. I would gauge our mood and go from there. Though I did have some ideas in mind.

And when I emerged to the living room, swept away in this atmosphere of Shepard's morning surprise, I let our reality sink in a little more. I was all too glad to sit with her on the couch, watching one of Illium's asari fashion networks as we ate brunch together. I found my amusement in Shepard's love for these delectable cinnamon rolls—almost childlike in nostalgia, her eyes had lit up as she presented them to me. Sliced and washed freshness from this fruit added more to the sweetness—as did the chill of the mimosas she'd made, as such perfect blends of champagne and orange juice. So wonderfully balanced.

Overall, Shepard had given me this fantasy in our reality. I could lean against her as we ate her sublime cooking, knowing exactly what was on her mind. I could watch this fashion show with her, sensing the way she had shifted her own perceptions for me. Enjoying this type of time with someone had once seemed like complacency to her, to us both. I certainly shared in her sentiments. If it had been anyone else, I imagined Shepard wouldn't have done any of this with such vigor and freedom. Because I tasted a true abundance of love and care in what she'd made for me, lightened and sweetened and perfected by that purposeful touch of hers, all for me and only me. She hadn't forced any of this at all.

We hadn't even had sex yet, and here she was, pulling out all the stops for me.

The thought kept a smile on my face as we finished our meals, preparing to leave for the afternoon.

I wore a regular outfit for our time shopping at one of Nos Astra's largest outdoor malls—a true cultural marvel as this place was, with Illium's usual silver and violet architecture, enhanced and expanded in a courtyard-like setting. Several high-end shops outlined along this boulevard, lifted atop the view of the city below, with the sun shining on in gentleness. As crowded as this place was, I wasn't exactly in the mood to advertise my Cerberus leanings. Not that it would've been entirely controversial. Not anymore. Not in this day and age. But Shepard had already drawn enough attention to us, as she had chosen to keep wearing her casual Alliance blues. People stared at us regardless, as I knew they would have. But due to certain events, I wasn't really in a loyalist state of mind. Not to Cerberus, anyway. To Shepard, certainly—and everyone saw it, as they watched us walk hand-in-hand. As calm and collected as we were, and so naturally poised in our power, I knew we attracted attention for more than our identities.

Truthfully, I rather enjoyed the attention this time.

Everyone here had money. _Actual_ money. Shepard and myself included, of course. They all carried their shopping bags from the various designer stores around, filled with clothes, jewelry, shoes, and far more—mostly asari brands, with plenty of human names from Earth as well. I wouldn't bring Shepard here just to buy her whatever. She deserved the best. I refused to settle for anything less.

As superficial as these concerns of mine seemed, there was more to it than that. We had both worked hard for our fortunes. I'd had my own handed to me in my childhood, only to discard it all, paving my own way—refusing to depend on my father's wealth anymore. Just as Shepard had clawed her way to success, honing and defining her ideals and leadership in the military for even more prestige. She could fit right in with the people around us—all of whom had dressed to the nines for a mere outing at this mall—while wearing her 'normal' fatigues, because of what they represented. We both knew our value.

Sophisticated in our accomplishments, our surroundings reflected this sentiment in spades.

Maintaining this poker face of mine, as Shepard did as well, no one could tell anything else about us—except that we had found what we needed in one another, and nothing and no one would tear us apart.

Any of the usual gawkers and disturbers knew this. And so they left us alone.

So when a familiar asari did come up to us, holding a shopping bag, I had to quickly check my hostilities.

My most trusted contact on Illium certainly didn't deserve that from me.

Not to mention, she broke character, briefly. Upon finding Shepard here with me, she faltered, her dark eyes widening in the shock of this storm between us. That lightning from us caught her off-guard. Yet she recovered quite quickly, playing it off just enough. She'd clearly heard the rumors about this unusual sensation.

"Well, well, well," she said, smirking in her usual way. "If it isn't the famous Miss Lawson. I almost didn't recognize you outside your uniform. You clean up nicely. Though that's no surprise, coming from you."

"Fancy running into you here," I replied. "Shepard, this is my contact—the one I mentioned to you a few times. She's the one providing us intel on the justicar and the assassin. With her own network in the police force, and Illium's many information brokers, I couldn't do business on this colony without her."

"Tela Vasir. Special Tactics and Recon."

Shepard seemed pleased. "Another Spectre, then."

"I heard your status was reinstated," mentioned Vasir. "You're our most famous operative. And for good reason. You've done some incredible work out there. Might even get you to sign my chest plate." She looked to me again. "I didn't mean to run into you lovebirds on your day off. But maybe it's for the best. I take it you've heard about the incident last night with the ardat-yakshi. It's related to your justicar."

"Yes, I did hear about it," I answered, recalling Jack's story. "How is this related to Samara?"

"Turns out she's been on this ardat-yakshi's trail for a while now. Samara was on location with the police. She offered to help them with their investigation. They haven't quite reached an agreement, so it's possible she'll continue looking for the suspect on her own. You have a potential avenue to recruit her by offering assistance. Unless tracking down a murderous sex fiend is too much for you to handle."

"It won't be a problem. Do you have any information on where she might be? We need to meet her."

"You have time," promised Vasir. "As of right now, Samara doesn't know where the suspect is. I'm told she's looking into a few leads. The ardat-yakshi is a slippery one, so this probably won't be a one-and-done thing. I'll let you know as soon as I have a location. I expect to have one by tomorrow afternoon."

"Tomorrow afternoon will work just fine. Thank you. What about Thane Krios? Any updates on him?"

"Unfortunately, the drell assassin is another story. I have next-to-nothing on him—but I do know for certain that he recently arrived on Illium, and he seemingly has no plans to leave any time soon. There's a clerk down in the information offices who says she's in contact with him. She won't tell me why. Only that it involves one of Illium's most notorious entrepreneurs, Nassana Dantius. Given her shady dealings and her company's hostile working conditions, I imagine Krios will want to put Nassana out of business."

"That's true. I've had Nassana's people getting in my way before. She's gotten away with far too much over the years. I won't lose any sleep if Thane does decide to end her life. But it's quite the risk for him to take. The Dantius Towers have top-of-the-level security. Not to mention her hired Eclipse mercs."

Vasir shared my concerns. "I have to agree," she said. "Don't you worry, though. I'll do some more digging with that clerk I mentioned. She'll talk soon. Might take a little longer than your business with the justicar. I'd advise you to go after her first. When you're done with Samara, I'll contact you again."

"Absolutely. Your help's been invaluable."

"Well, I owe you for all the help you've given me. Your Cerberus network enhances my own. When I don't have all the answers, I turn to you. Let's hope your suicide mission doesn't live up to its name."

"It really shouldn't," I insisted. "I plan on sticking around, Vasir. Take my word for it."

"Oh, I will. Although, before you and the commander head off, I should warn you. There's someone else at this mall as we speak. Someone else you may or may not want to run into."

Appalled, I immediately worried it was my father. "Who do you mean?"

"It's your sister, Oriana. She's here shopping with her friends from school. Considering how expansive this place is, there's no guarantee you'll see her. It's still possible. So you might want to be careful."

Struggling to keep the shock from my face—my heart skipped several beats in a row, shuddering.

My hand in Shepard's nearly went cold. Until she held on tighter, warming me in her support.

Steadied, I forced a reply, "Yes, I understand. Thank you for the information, Vasir. I appreciate it."

"Of course, Lawson. I hope you and Shepard have a great day." Before taking her leave, she made sure to give Shepard a cordial nod. "Commander. It was nice meeting you. You take good care of her now."

"Vasir," stated Shepard, watching as she went on her way.

Once she was gone, I couldn't quite make myself move. Other people continued to pass us by, drowning me more in this gathering of strangers, with Shepard as my only familiarity and comfort and certainty.

_My sister was here._

After all these years I'd spent living on Illium, I'd never once bumped into her. I feared what would happen if Oriana spotted me—if she would notice the clear resemblance between us, and then decide come up to me, asking questions I had no answers to. How was I supposed to explain that I _rescued_ her from our father? How was I supposed to tell my own sister that I'd had to leave her with another family, all because my life was far too dangerous to involve her in? Wouldn't she feel that I'd abandoned her?

I hadn't been able to reconcile my need to protect my sister, with my other need to keep her close.

I wanted her to be normal. Safe. Happy.

She couldn't have that with me around. I would only complicate things for her.

Sensing my struggles, Shepard leaned down to whisper in my ear, "Hey. What's on your mind?"

That sultry depth to her voice pulled me right out of my thoughts, and into something else—far deeper.

But I _really_ couldn't think about that, either. Not at a time like this.

Tongue-tied, not knowing what to say, I merely shook my head.

Knowing best for me, Shepard had us sit down on a nearby bench.

Elevated, overlooking the city's view, we had a beautiful vantage point for the rest of Nos Astra. Stronger in her support, Shepard wrapped her arm around my shoulders, easing me into her. Sighing in a slight release, I leaned against her, basking in this closeness, in this moment. Such a perfect, pleasant sunlight shone down on us. The mild breeze swept past in a crisp scent of imagination and culture, seasoned by Illium's sharp sense of style and magnitude. And we had our silence here. Silence punctured only by the far-off sounds of skycars driving through traffic, those lights shining across the day in certainty.

Illium would forever go on. And Illium would always be home to me—my chosen home, away from Earth, as I had decided for my sister as well. Already I rued the inevitable day when the Reapers would arrive to this place, possibly destroying all that I'd known for years now. It truly seemed unavoidable.

But today, here, Shepard and I had this quiet. This peace together, however temporary and fleeting.

She was wise to ask me about Vasir first: "That contact of yours. I take it you've known her for a while."

"Yes, I have," I said, closing my eyes against Shepard's chest. "Vasir is a powerful Spectre with even stronger intel. She's made quite a name for herself as the Council's arm for the police. Even though Illium is outside of Council space, those in law enforcement feel more secure having her around. I believe she's managed to keep the colony from devolving too much into what Omega has become under Aria's rule. And she also helps me in watching over my sister. Namely with some surveillance footage."

"Sounds like you trust her a lot."

"Mmm, in a certain sense. We have an affable working relationship. Transactional. We both benefit."

Shepard noticed, "But you two aren't necessarily friends."

Such a mention made my chest ache. "I don't really have _friends,_ you know. After I lost Niket, I couldn't bear to possibly have another repeat. I'll tell you more about him later on today. Aside from that, I seem to have forgotten what friendship means. When it comes down to it, I'm very awkward with other people. Even with most of the team. Yet I appreciate the distance they keep from me. It's…respectful."

"You mean you're not close with any of them?"

"I wouldn't say that I am. Though Jack did message me at a strange hour today. Around four in the morning. I was awake at that time. We stayed up for a while talking. That was why I woke up late."

"Jack? What did she want?"

"Well, I'd offered for her to message me whenever she wished. She decided to take me up on that. I'm guessing whatever's going on between her and Tali—or _not_ going on—has Jack in a certain mood. She's dealing with her problems as best as she can. I simply listened and gave her some advice. She'll be fine."

"What about you, babe? Think you'll be fine, too? We can leave early if you need to."

I was glad Shepard chose not to ask me about my sister. Not directly, anyway. I knew what she meant.

"We don't have to leave," I told her. "I've already made an appointment for you to have a fitting. I want to do this with you, Shepard. I want us to spend this time together. I'll be more than all right. I promise."

Shepard kissed the roots of my hair, her breaths warming my scalp. "Okay, then. Whatever you want."

Enjoying her subservience to me, I soon found myself smiling in her hold.

She had such a knack for turning these normal times into something magical, thoroughly enchanting me.

* * *

Since we still had plenty of time before Shepard's fitting, we decided we would actually browse a few other stores. I had no use for sitting around and moping instead. Certainly not on a day like this. Because there was a different air about Shepard as she walked with me, leading me almost as she held my hand, even though she had never been here before. It wasn't that she rushed me. Not at all. No, it was something else:

Such a beautiful expanse of confidence had taken over her. A different sort of confidence than her usual one. Another type that Shepard only displayed on rare occasions: the relaxed, yet masculine way she would hold herself while driving, or that purposeful power move during our first date when she'd worn that chain-leash looped along her trousers. That same taste of her power and control, blended with that inscrutable masculinity, I sensed about her once more as she played this part for me.

Shepard guided me to each store she thought I would like—a few asari designer shops, as well as Fendi, Dior, and of course Burberry. I would scrutinize the place, first, deciding if I in fact wanted anything from there. Wordless, I decided that I did, each time, and allowed Shepard to lead me inside. As such an unusual blast from the past, I picked out whatever I wanted: sunglasses, purses, jewelry, and all sorts of other accessories I didn't have the freedom to wear on the mission. Yet Shepard purchased everything for me anyway. Even though I was supposed to be the one taking her out and spoiling her today. But she insisted otherwise—and she carried all of my shopping bags for me without complaint. As ever, she didn't look like she should've had this physical strength. So many years of carrying her bulky sniper rifles around had gifted her with the perfect sinew, leaving her well enough to practically be my errand boy.

And if I didn't know any better, that very idea had enhanced her strength and stamina for me.

Shepard seemed more dutiful _because_ she knew I expected it; because she knew I enjoyed it.

I sensed she would lower herself as much as she needed to, if only to please me with her power.

Just as well, I knew where my mind had wandered with all of this. Wandering toward such an inevitable arousal: I truly enjoyed the meaning in Shepard's gestures, her overtures. After all, I could have taken advantage of her generosity. If I wanted. She would know if I had, yet she wouldn't behave any differently. I couldn't do such a thing, but I still wanted to test the waters.

As our last stop before Shepard's appointment for her fitting, she brought me to the Gucci store. I had an abundance of purses and other accessories already. Even though a number of these handmade bags and intricate bracelets were to die for, I had to show some restraint today. Shepard had spoiled me enough as it was, though I knew she wanted to continue doing it. And I would let her—in other ways.

Shepard asked me, "What would you like from here?"

Coy and controlled, I responded, "I suppose I could do with another pair of shoes. You can never do with too many of those. Or at least I can't."

Agreeing with my assessment, she led me over to the shoe section.

Brightly-lit and packed with mirrors along the walls, lines and lines of women's shoes decorated this space. Pumps and heels and ankle boots and knee-high boots and so many other boots. Heeled and non-heeled, but the heels were what I wanted. Leather. Always leather. Shepard noticed that I clearly had my eye on a particular type of shoe—she had me sit down on one of the velvet chairs here, with all of the heeled boots in my vicinity.

"Do you want to try anything on?" she offered.

Smiling in satisfaction, I said, "Yes, I do. The black knee-high boots at the very top. They're shaped a lot like the ones on my uniform. I'd been meaning to find a separate pair. What do you think of them?"

"They're good—very sexy," replied Shepard, reaching up to retrieve the boots for me. "I'll go see if they have them in your size. Hold on."

"Thank you, Shepard."

Pleased beyond pleasure, I waited for her to return.

She didn't keep me waiting for very long at all, soon coming back with a long, white box in her hands.

Kneeling before me, Shepard made the pointed, poised effort at taking off my current boots. She found this natural arch about me, taking them in her hands, one at a time—before placing the new boots on for me, one, and then the other. As focused as she was on this task, she couldn't notice directly the way my breathing had changed. How I stared at her with such an engorgement about me. I could have devoured her whole with my eyes alone. Largely because I sensed the particular feelings in Shepard's hands, in her touch. How she needed this, and craved this. Perhaps a lovely fetish for my boots, if so.

Though certainly, other people throughout the store noticed. They continued to stare. They stared more so once I placed my hands along Shepard's shoulders, using her as a sturdy, rooted object to help me stand up. Modeling this new look in one of the nearby mirrors, I enjoyed the style, the fashion of it all.

"What do you think now, Shepard?" I asked, checking from a different angle. "Do you like these on me?"

"Yes, Miranda," she responded, still kneeling on the floor. "I like them a lot. I want to buy them for you."

"You know, this wasn't supposed to turn into a shopping spree for _me._ Though I do appreciate it."

"Well, it's my responsibility to treat you right. This is part of that. I can afford you. You should enjoy it."

I more than enjoyed this.

She knew that.

Yet I decided that we would only get this one thing, and then head over for her appointment. If I let Shepard buy anything more for me, it would have been too much for one day. Even though I knew she was all too happy to spend her life savings on me, this was more than enough. Shepard helped me back into my original boots. She carried the new ones with her as we went to the checkout kiosk together.

Out of curiosity, I whispered in her ear—"And what if I told you we weren't having sex tonight? Would you still do all of this for me?"

Making her point, Shepard paid for my shoes right then and there. All with the credits she had on-hand.

I couldn't help smiling as she added this latest shopping bag to the collection she carried along.

We then left for the Giorgio Armani store nearby. This particular human designer line was quite popular not only on Illium, but across many other asari colonies, and on Thessia as well. Arriving at the men's section, the awaiting staff knew who we were and why we were here. They began the process for fitting Shepard into her suit straightaway. The exact suit I had requested, tailor-made for her and her alone.

I sat on a chair nearby, surrounded by my shopping bags. Observing and scrutinizing every single detail:

Shepard stood up while the shop's staff flitted around her—measuring, trying, fitting. Navigating her lean form, and adapting this specific suit around her frame, her mood, her mind. Stern in attractiveness, she stared back at me on occasion, but otherwise preoccupied herself with watching the staff work on her.

Three-piece, and all-black.

Suit jacket, vest, and trousers.

All of a fine, smooth material, giving the impression of leather, yet not at all so.

Simple pocket square triangled over her breast, of a dark gray to draw the eye, as an illusion of color.

Men's dress shoes of a cobalt black to match, shining almost as metal, yet not too much to distract.

And a dark violet shirt underneath the jacket and vest, enhancing the sunlit shades of her eyes, her hair, and her complexion. She would look like my sun, as I'd imagined and fantasized about for several years.

As for the accessories, I'd picked out a tie, cufflinks, and waist belt beforehand. She would have a chain leash looping down the side of her trousers— _naturally._ Everything would be cohesive on her. Plus, despite Shepard's slimness, I wanted a strong, masculine fit. Nothing to accentuate her chest or her hips, yet nothing to hide those features, either. That cancellation would create a flawless, androgynous look. Genderless. Only the length of her hair and the femininity of her face and hands would speak otherwise.

The perfect suit befitting a prince.

Shepard already held herself as such.

She simply needed the fashion to match, all with dashes of a professional sex appeal and sophistication.

But this outfit wasn't for our date tonight. I planned on asking Shepard to wear something else instead.

No, this was for something else—a little later on. I had my matching outfit ready for that _later_ as well.

Later still, the sun outside began to lower, lifting the hours closer to evening time.

I needed to start getting ready for our date soon. Shepard planned on returning to the _Normandy_ to get dressed, as I only had one bathroom in my apartment, and I knew I would spend too much time hogging it. So it would be more efficient for her to go back to her private cabin instead. I planned on dropping her off near the trading floor, and then driving back home afterward. All while trying not to let my nerves get the better of me. Yes, we'd been on a date before…but not like this. Definitely not like this.

As we made to leave the mall, I stared at one of the stores we passed by. The sight made my heart ache.

One filled with wedding dresses and tuxedos.

I'd had to force myself _not_ to ogle at that Vera Wang dress over the extranet. I remained obsessed with it, as I had been for quite some time now. With everything that had gone on before, my obsessions had seemed particularly desperate. Or at least tone deaf. So I'd resisted my urges, merely staving them off.

Yet as I thought that, I could've sworn I was seeing things.

In the near-distance, I thought I saw a reflection of _myself_ in a white dress in this sunlight.

No…that was impossible.

_Unless—_

"Shit!" I cursed, ducking into the wedding store.

Baffled by my speed in making myself scarce, Shepard called after me, "Babe! What the hell—?"

"Hey, is that Commander Shepard?!"

A younger, happier, less-accented version of me had said those words.

My reflection clamored over to Shepard, her excitable group of human and asari girlfriends in tow.

Completing that mirage, Oriana wore such a pretty white sundress and heels, looking her age. So joyous and relaxed, my sister and her friends surrounded Shepard in a harmless manner. Carrying a few shopping bags of their own, those designer brands swung near their legs as they moved this way and that, getting a better look at Shepard's legend in-person. They studied her Alliance fatigues, her hair, her stoic surprise— _everything._ For she was clearly shocked to find such a resemblance between twins.

Needing to say _something,_ Shepard confirmed, "Yeah, that's me…"

Clever in her observations, Oriana asked, "So, are all those shopping bags for your girlfriend? You _have_ to be here with her, right? We read all about you two over the extranet! Where is she?!"

"She—went to go look for something else."

"Hmm, will you have even _more_ bags to carry for her soon?"

"Probably…"

When Oriana and her friends giggled over Shepard's behavior, I had to wonder about this.

Shepard was certainly more nervous than I would've expected her to be.

Then again, she had a lot going on in that head of hers, caught off-guard as she was.

_Hmm…_

Oriana went on, "Well, it's too bad she's not here. I wanted to meet her! _Miranda._ She seems—intense."

"We both are," explained Shepard, trying to keep her cool. "But, why did you want to meet her?"

"It's a long story," said Oriana. _Knowing,_ she had a far-off look as she professed, "She's really pretty…"

Clearly, our resemblance hadn't gotten past her. She suspected something. Perhaps more than that.

I should've known this would happen. My twin sister was far too intelligent to ignore the telltale signs.

Brightening more, my sister offered her hand. "Anyway, my name's Oriana. It's wonderful to meet you, Commander! You've done so much for so many people. We truly look up to you. You're an inspiration."

Glancing between Oriana and her friends, Shepard shook my sister's hand, mindful in gentleness.

"Thanks."

Reflecting me again, Oriana smiled in this sunlight. "I can see why your girlfriend likes you," she flirted, sending me in a mental tailspin _._ "You're the strong and silent type, hm? I figured as much already." As if trying to piss me off _on purpose_ to draw me out, my sister observed the green of Shepard's veins bulging along her arms, weighed with all my shopping. So she flirted with her more—"Miranda sure is taking her sweet time, isn't she? How long do you think you can keep carrying her bags without getting tired?"

Hardened in her own mental efforts, Shepard stated, "For as long as it takes."

"Oh, really? You'll keep standing there _all day and night_ while she avoids me? That's quite interesting."

When Shepard refused to respond, my sister and her friends only giggled again.

I was seriously about to storm out there. Right this second. I couldn't let my sister get away with this!

But she was obviously on to me as it was.

With Shepard not-so-privately flustered, this was yet another giveaway.

Neither of us had prepared for this. And I had already made the choice to stay out of Oriana's life. To protect her. She couldn't know what I got up to. I couldn't involve her in my harsh, dangerous reality.

As livid as I was, I fought to remain hidden.

Oriana knew that Shepard wouldn't budge. "Okay, okay," she conceded. "You won't say anything, but you're not denying it, either. I suppose that's good enough. I'll live with it—for now." Smiling in that knowing edge, Oriana decided to let Shepard off the hook. My sister gave a girlish wave goodbye, her long, lithe fingers and manicured nails fanning. "Hopefully we'll meet again, Commander. Take care!"

Shepard could only give my sister a curt nod in response.

Beaming one last time, Oriana went on her way, taking her friends with her. Their loud conversation about the encounter echoed in their wake.

Shepard waited until that echo was gone—until my sister and her girlfriends were far enough away.

She then entered this store, finding me surrounded by an assortment of wedding attire.

The meaning wasn't lost on her as she stared down at me in a sheepish concern.

"Sorry, babe," was all she could say.

"It's fine," I snapped. "There was a nineteen-year-old girl flirting with you, all while you were surrounded by her friends. And she just so happened to look exactly like me. What else were you supposed to do?"

"Miranda…"

"God, I know. We weren't prepared. I'm _trying_ not to blame you for this."

"Well, your cover's blown. Oriana clearly knows about you. That's why she acted the way she did."

Royally pissed off, I fumed, "She thinks she's so damn funny."

"Don't you think you should talk to her? I mean, she's your sister. She obviously cares about you."

"This is too much for me to handle. I'll deal with it later. Not now. Come on, let's go."

Exceedingly grumpy, I grabbed Shepard's arm, having us leave for my car at long last. I forced myself not to ponder on what had just happened, or any possible consequences of this for the future.

* * *

Starlight shining in through my windows—getting ready for this date proved more stressful than I'd imagined.

Back at my apartment, alone again, I showered and got dressed with such a restlessness about me. Hardly able to stay still: if I wasn't shaking, mildly, then I had to stiffen my own body to stop the slight movements, eternally distracting. Even while putting my bit of makeup on, my hands wouldn't stop trembling. I'd had to redo my light mascara at least a few times, but I managed to get it on as I wanted. I could smile about it, though, knowing how Shepard would react if she could have seen me now.

She would have told me not to worry. And she would have called me beautiful.

I wanted to earn that reaction from her tonight. But I didn't want to go overboard. Or seem too obvious.

I had already decided on my outfit for this night weeks ago. Simple simplicity of a deep red blouse and black slacks, accented by the boots I had on. The same boots that Shepard had just bought me from the Gucci store, which I hadn't planned on. But they fit so well, I couldn't ignore them for anything.

Everything else about me looked the same. Nothing fancy. Again, I didn't want to try too hard with this.

And I knew that Shepard wouldn't take nearly as long as me to get ready. So I'd found a way to keep her preoccupied, by sending her another recording of Jacob and me. One of our sessions, our scenes from last year or so. I wanted to get Shepard's imagination going, as a preview for this next step in our relationship. After all, she had been perfectly respectful about my wishes—about not coming anywhere near me with sex until we were actually together like this. Naturally, I wanted to reward her in any way I could.

Aside from our dinner plans, I had no concrete goals for the evening.

I would truly have to gauge her mood, and my own. Then we would go from there.

I couldn't force anything. I certainly didn't want to risk doing that. Whatever felt right would be right.

I soon received an alert from my apartment's security system, letting me know that Shepard had made her way to the building. Trying not to panic, I hurried over to the computer in my office. There along my multiple displays was Shepard, observed from a heightened, slanted angle, her sight captured as she moved through the apartment complex. On her way to the elevator from the lobby, I felt myself breathing harder, seeing for myself that she had on a dinner jacket and suit trousers. She didn't have on a tie, and she didn't need to, as I'd stipulated to her already. Beautifully, she had her long, long hair shifting and swaying down her back, walking with such confidence and certainty. Obviously she didn't have on the same outfit I had purchased for her earlier, as I hadn't given it to her directly… _yet._ But there was such power about her stature and status, enhanced by her choice of clothes. My love for her only grew once I spotted the way Shepard kept her hands behind her back, as if holding something there.

Holding myself together, yet flailing all the same, I rushed back into my bathroom.

Spritzing a bit more of my midnight perfume on, I looked myself over in the mirror one last time.

And even though I wasn't religious in the slightest, I'd already clasped my hands together. Gripping, shaking—I wasn't sure what had gotten to me like this. I knew I would have to be put-together the moment Shepard saw me again. Anything less would've been unlike me. Yet I recognized how truly momentous this moment was. After how long I'd spent wishing and wanting a night like this, I didn't want to mess this up. But of course, these were only my horrible demons talking. I had to accept that.

Maybe it wouldn't hurt to lower my guard a bit more; to trust Shepard with this vulnerability of mine.

I made up my mind once I heard her ring the doorbell.

Smoothing down my shirt with my hands, I went to answer the door.

And there she was, standing in my doorway, gazing down at me in her handsome, stoic delight.

Right away, I smelled the scent of her cologne, wooden in a crisp freshness that revitalized me, enticing.

Pressed and steamed, Shepard wore her dinner jacket well, with her shirt enriched in red. Such a deep, burgundy red; a romantic red, just as deep, just as romantic as the wide, lovely bouquet of roses she procured from behind her back, presenting them to me in her regard. Eternally respectful. Everlasting.

I did find it amusing that we happened to be matching with our reds.

Smiling softly, I accepted the roses as she gave them to me. As thoughtful and caring as she was, this gesture of hers nearly had me speechless. I wasn't sure why I hadn't expected this. She surprised me.

"Shepard…"

"Hey," she murmured, leaning down to kiss me in richness and esteem. "Sorry again…about earlier. With your sister. I should've handled that better."

"No, it's all right," I forgave. "I shouldn't have gotten angry with you. It wasn't worth it. I'm sorry, too."

For good measure, I reached up to embrace her, wrapping my free arm around her neck, her shoulders.

Shepard was incredibly precious to me. We couldn't tear ourselves apart over some silly argument.

I was already in a one-sided argument with the Illusive Man. I didn't need to add Shepard to that list.

She whispered in my ear, "You're beautiful, Miranda. I love the way you put yourself together."

Remembering those words from right before our first date, I knew my face had gone red.

"Thank you," I replied, forever glad to hear this from her. "These roses are gorgeous as well. As are you. Let me just…put them somewhere. In a vase. Then we can go."

"Take your time, babe."

I certainly did take my time in going to the kitchen, and pulling out a vase from the cabinets.

If I moved any faster, I feared I would give away far too much.

Shepard noticed enough. Waiting near the entrance, she remained respectful, as I needed her to be.

With my new flowers secure in this vase, I brought them over to my desk. I admired them for a short moment, hoping this rosy scent would settle throughout the apartment soon, as it had done in my room back on the _Normandy._ I imagined everything would populate nicely by the time we returned home.

Surprising me again, Shepard offered to drive us to the restaurant in my car. All she had to do was follow the navigation system. I allowed it, enjoying the way she helped me into the passenger's seat first, before she went over to the driver's side. I found myself savoring this novelty. Obviously, I'd never let anyone else drive my car before. The lack of control was only a little disorienting. Yet I trusted Shepard with this, especially once I saw for myself how much care she took with my car. Purely responsible, she took the utmost care with driving in this mild traffic at night, the lights and sights from Illium shining in through the pitch darkness around us. She of course made sure to hold my hand. As I always wanted.

Shepard glanced over at me as she drove, those lights from the console glimmering in her eyes.

"So, any hints on where we're going?" she asked. "I noticed you removed the name of the place from your navigation system. You didn't want me looking over to see for myself."

I smiled over her astuteness. "It's all part of the surprise, Shepard. My lips are sealed."

"That gets me thinking, babe. You'd only remove the name if you thought I'd recognize it. Right?"

I knew for a fact that she would have recognized the name.

A little bit of home away from home.

"You already know I'm not answering that," I told her. "But you should know—there will be other people around. I don't quite have the influence you do, to buy out the entire restaurant for an evening all to ourselves. A number of high-profile entrepreneurs and such frequent this place. The restaurant's management didn't want to risk ruffling any feathers by cancelling their reservations. So you'll have to forgive me. We'll have our space, anyway. Secluded with a fine view."

"Sounds good to me. We can be alone later."

"Mmm, we certainly will be. I'll make sure of it. For now, we're nearly there. Follow the valet parking."

"All right, then," said Shepard, exiting the highway. "Why don't you let me pay for parking at least?"

I protested, "Shepard, no! Did you forget _I'm_ the one taking you out tonight? You've spent enough on me today."

 _"Okay,"_ she conceded. "This is…new for me, that's all. You know it is."

"Yes, and that's exactly why you should let me take over."

Finding the double meaning in my words, Shepard only gave a smirk, letting me 'win' the exchange.

I had to laugh over her silliness.

As long as she trusted me to do this, then we really wouldn't have a problem.

Arriving to the high-rise building in this city center, Shepard went along with the valet parking, per my request. She seemed a little on-edge about it—and I deduced that she had never done this with her own car on Earth, due to trust and security issues. Given that she was _the_ Commander Shepard, I certainly couldn't blame her. Yet I'd had to reassure Shepard that everything would be just fine, especially here on Illium with me. I may not have been able to buy out the restaurant, but Cerberus worked to ensure that I had the best protections on this colony. Shepard and Oriana were part of that. We would be fine.

Inside the fine sleek and polish of the building's interior lobby, we made our way to the main elevator. I was very particular about linking my arm through Shepard's this time. Instead of having her merely hold my hand as usual. Dressed up in their own dinner attire, there were a number of humans, salarians, and asari I recognized—one-time business contacts, information brokers whom I'd solicited once or twice, and others who'd tried and failed to court my romantic attention at some point. As for everyone else, if I didn't recognize them, then they certainly recognized me on Shepard's arm. They all stared accordingly. Predictably.

Annoyed by all the staring, Shepard asked me, "Babe, do you _know_ these people?"

"Some of them," I replied. "In-passing. I wouldn't even call them acquaintances. Minor contacts."

"Well, a lot of them are getting a pretty good look at you."

Affectionate, I rubbed the smooth sleeve of Shepard's dinner jacket, feeling how tense her arm was—as if she was prepared to fight. "It's sweet that you're protective of me, but there's no need to worry. They can stare all they want. I'm here with you. Everyone knows that. Try to relax."

Tenseness subsiding, Shepard still remained vigilant as we entered the somewhat crowded elevator.

We were all headed to the same place at the topmost floor. Knowing this, Shepard had us stand near the back. Right against the wall. Everyone else continued on with their shallow conversations about Illium's stock market, obviously inflated stories about their business successes, or psychotic tales about some poor fellows they'd conned out of a fair deal. No one was foolish enough to turn around to stare at us. Certainly not with Shepard giving off these protective vibes, despite my advice. Though I did appreciate her efforts.

Sometimes I wondered how she reconciled her violent upbringing on the streets with this life we had now—one of wealth and excess and privilege. This seemed to be the intersection where she existed.

The uniqueness of her perspective only added to Shepard's intelligence and appeal, in my eyes.

She was truly one of a kind.

At the very top of the building, we all exited the elevator.

Everyone else continued on to the wide, open entrance of the restaurant overlooking the cityscape. That generous space of the establishment's interior: we found the eternal warmth of the overhead lights, as well as the light brown color scheme of the tables, chairs, flooring, and walls. Matching in that warmth, the area proved a fine contrast to the dark of the night, outside the many picture windows all around. The stars and the city lights outside shone brighter because of the contrast; and the other customers sitting at their tables were no less devious in their business dealings. They looked pure enough tonight.

Shepard spotted the nearby sign and paused.

"Miranda, I can't believe you," she said, nearly incredulous. "Bertrand at Mister A's? This is one of the best restaurants in San Diego. French-American cuisine. They have one of these on Illium?"

"The very same," I answered. "I figured you would recognize it. Have you ever been here before?"

"No, I haven't. I just know where it is—over on Fifth Avenue. I heard it's pretty romantic. Looks like it."

"Well, we should go to the one in your hometown sometime. Perhaps down the line, if there's time. We could even make it a tradition if it suits you."

Humming in agreement, Shepard led me inside to the restaurant proper. Together we went to our reserved table—just outside along the balcony, in a private area away from these other groups of people and conversations. Though I had to keep from smiling too much, since I'd managed to impress her so far.

But of course, one of the customers started causing a scene, ruining the mood.

The stuck-up, indignant, entitled asari at her table shouted at the manager, who'd come over to try and calm her down. I had no idea what her problem was—only that she yelled about some horrible injustice or another, and she refused to accept it. The other guests at her table had their heads down, covering their faces in embarrassment; trying to avoid being seen. Yet they looked more like hostages than friends or associates. Hostages who clearly didn't want to be seated with this woman, precisely because of her temper. She had a number of Eclipse guards scanning the area along the perimeter, too.

I scoffed in disgust once I recognized who it was.

Nassana Dantius was actually here at this very restaurant. She yelled and hollered at the manager about the supposedly poor service. When the manager could not, or would not accede to whatever demands she'd made, Nassana got up and stormed outside. Each of her so-called guests scrambled to follow, as if there would have been consequences if they'd stayed behind instead. Her guards all followed as well.

"Interesting," remarked Shepard.

As we arrived to our table outside, I asked, "You recognize her, don't you? Vasir and I talked about her."

"Yeah, Nassana Dantius," she replied, helping me sit down first. "I met her on the Citadel during the last mission against Saren. I think she was a diplomat or something. She tried to bribe me to go kill her 'corrupt' sister. I turned her down because I didn't need the money. Something seemed off about her anyway. I only found out later that Nassana and her sister were both corrupt. Heard it on the news."

"In that case, I'm glad you didn't end up helping her. I'm sure we'll see her again when we meet Thane."

Shepard went to her chair adjacent to mine, taking off her jacket. "Something tells me you're right."

As removed as we were from the rest of the people inside, we could enjoy this quieted peace, alone.

Or as alone as possible, anyway.

Yet Shepard didn't seem to mind. She gazed at me in tenderness all the same. Her sunlit eyes glimmered more in the faint lights shining in from inside the restaurant. Never too much, she stayed balanced in her regard of me: as perfect as the equilibrium all around us, with this wonderful temperature. The heated lamps near us gave off a pleasant radiance, simulating the ease and comfort of a cozy fireplace.

I felt the same in my chest, in my heart—and in my hand, as Shepard held mine in hers.

So many words, so many sentiments simmered there in her sight, completely focused on me.

I prodded her, "Something on your mind?"

Shepard smiled in such a breathtaking beauty. "You're happy with me. Aren't you?"

"Of course I am," I told her, unable to hold back my own smile. "Why wouldn't I be?"

"Maybe this is uncharted territory for me."

I had hoped she would bring this up. "Hm, what do you mean by that? I'm not your first by any means."

"No, but this is the first time I'm… _trying._ Making an effort. Mentally. Emotionally. Not shutting you out."

"And when you were angry with me for what I did, weeks ago…were you going to mentally check out?"

Head-on, dead-on, Shepard kept firm eye contact with me. "I wasn't going to at all. Not even close."

Her certainty in me bolstered mine for her. "Well…why not? Why am I your first in this way?"

"Because I can't help it. Even now, I want to do anything I can to please you."

Completely charming, Shepard lowered her lips to my hand. Pressing, kissing—her breaths warmed my skin, my knuckles, the light bend of my wrist. She had me smiling exactly as she wanted.

I told her in lightness, "Well, I hope that includes letting me pay for dinner. You should get used to this."

"You plan on making this a regular thing?"

"Not necessarily," I replied, checking the menu on the kiosk. "I mean that in a broader sense. You and I both are used to being in control. So it's interesting to me how we're able to shift from dynamic to dynamic. I only want you to be more fluid about these things. As will I. I expect this will all work out quite well." Reading through these French-American blended dishes, I already knew: "Can I also expect that you'll want to stick with a salad tonight? I'm assuming there's a particular reason you've never been here."

Shepard gave me such a silly grin. "You know I like simple foods."

"Nothing _complicated,_ hm? Is French cuisine really too exotic for you?"

"Hmm, maybe…"

I scoffed. "You're such an American."

Joyful and free, Shepard laughed.

Hearing her like this, I couldn't help smiling more.

I had to tell her, "You're lucky you're so adorable, you know. Otherwise I would think you were downright conservative in your tastes. I'll need to work around how picky you are."

Shepard bargained with me, "Hey, let's keep it easy tonight. I have a taste for salad this time. Really."

"Mmm, all right. But at least get the lobster salad. It looks rather large. Would you like us to share it?"

"Yes, I'd like that a lot. Thank you, Miranda. Pick whatever you want us to drink."

Shepard's eyes lit up upon seeing the full plate of salad, of that leafy assortment cushioning the slices of lobster scattered about on top. She also approved of the two glasses of chilled moscato I settled on.

"I'm curious now," I said. "Where did this love for salad come from? Some sort of military simplicity or scarcity? I know I've technically seen all of your memories when I put them back together. But it was all so much. I'm afraid I don't remember every single detail. You'll have to enlighten me on this."

"It's okay, babe," allowed Shepard, letting me eat first. "And no, it's not from being in the military. This goes way back to when I was a kid…" I sensed some apprehension in her voice. She'd never talked about this with anyone. Yet she decided to share with me: "My house mother didn't have a lot of money, but she made sure we ate healthy. When she wasn't doing well, or my older house siblings were busy, this was the one thing I knew how to make for myself. I didn't have to rely on them. It helped me cope."

"Oh, I see… But—your house mother? You mean the one who cared for you in place of your parents? This sounds very familiar."

"Yeah, it's just— _she_ was a gay man. She presented as a woman. Didn't have the money to transition. I can't remember when exactly: she died of a red sand overdose when I was maybe five or six. Our oldest sibling took over. She didn't last long, for similar reasons. It was a constant cycle that whole time. On top of that, our housing complex got torn down by the time I was fourteen. Gentrification in the area drove us out."

"I'm sorry to hear that… You know, something tells me you don't discuss this often."

Shepard bought some time with her drink, sipping a bit. "No. I don't. I've never talked about this at all."

"Well, I want you to share more with me. But only if you feel comfortable."

"I mean, this does tie into how different I feel. Being in a place like this. If we're only talking about money and status, then I'm supposed to fit in. Doesn't always seem like it. I grew up as a thug, killing people on the streets to survive, and to protect my chosen family. I don't really belong here."

"Have you ever felt like you belonged somewhere? Aside from the _Normandy,_ perhaps."

"Back in those days," said Shepard. "With my friends, my family. When I said I had a house mother, I meant that in a specific way. She was in charge of our house in San Diego's ballroom culture. Without that whole scene—that support system—I probably wouldn't have made it. The same was true for a bunch of other gay kids like me. Mostly black and Latino kids. That community was my home."

"Yes, I remember now," I shared. "I've certainly read about it. Watched a few documentaries."

_"Paris is Burning?"_

I smiled. "Of course."

Shepard nodded in satisfaction. "Then you know all about walking the balls. Realness. Things like that."

"Realness as _passing,_ indeed. Putting on a show, putting on a performance with that persona, and that idea. It's no wonder you were such a natural in the fashion scene. Walking for the ballroom is essentially doing a themed runway, isn't it? Winning prizes for your house. Having that true celebration together."

"Yeah, I learned a thing or two about fashion from the ballroom. Celebrating our own idea of opulence and wealth helped us escape. It gave us the chance to see what we could've had, beyond the circumstances in front of us. We all had our specific categories: executive realness, butch queen realness; serving face, serving body. Voguing was pretty big, too. I earned a few trophies myself."

"Did you, really?" I asked, intrigued. "Which category were you best at?"

More relaxed now, Shepard gave such a proud smile. "Military realness. I would _always_ walk for that one. That was my thing. It's what got me interested in the Alliance. Something about it clicked for me."

"Mmm, it certainly shows. I'm only wondering why you didn't want to become a model in that case."

"I guess…because I knew the world wasn't the same as the ballrooms. People didn't see me as that tough, aspiring marine from the House of Balenciaga. They just saw me as _Sol,_ this pretty girl they thought they could take advantage of. I was a commodity, not a real person. Then when I turned eighteen, I had to basically get rid of my past and go back to my legal name. My legal name from my biological parents who abandoned me. And now I have this current persona you know today."

"Your life does sound rather—intransient. You haven't had much stability, have you?"

Shepard sounded rather shy as she said, "You're right about that."

I wondered, "Hmm, why that reaction?"

"You represent stability for me. Even though your own life hasn't always been stable."

"Well, I feel the same way about you. Though you're absolutely correct about my life. In many ways, you're the only stability I have. The only _real_ stability I've ever had. At least ever since I lost Niket long ago."

"In your letter, you talked about someone who sacrificed themselves for you. Did you mean him?"

"Yes, I did…"

Shepard reached over to hold my hand again.

She didn't need to say anything. I knew what she wanted to know.

So I took a deep breath, and explained, "I told you about how my life was. After I ran away from my father—and the time before I joined Cerberus. Niket and I lived together. We had an apartment in an unsavory part of Brisbane, my hometown. I worked as a dominatrix to put food on the table, and help pay the bills. He was grateful. We had a few plans to save up and move someplace better. But our plans were shot down once the wrong people got involved. They found out how much money I made…"

"And they wanted to take it from you."

"Yes," I replied, weary in remembrance. "You've lived that life on the streets. You know how these things go. Niket knew. I was sadly oblivious. I was on my way back home one night when it happened. Niket was outside, surrounded by several attackers. They had guns and far worse. I couldn't have taken them all on my own. He screamed at me to run…just before they killed him. I wish I would've stayed."

"Miranda, you said you _couldn't._ You would've ended up dead."

"Shepard, I know… It was just—difficult. Losing Niket like that. Losing him at all. From a much younger age, you watched your own friends die in similar ways. I was nearly eighteen, yes, but I'd never gone through anything like that before. I didn't know how to cope. Looking out for myself seemed to be the only answer. I fled to a safe location and called the Illusive Man right away. He agreed to take me in."

"I'm glad you had that option. Even if it was a last resort. I get why you were so upset with me before. I did almost sacrifice myself for you like that."

"I didn't mean to take that trauma out on you. Niket meant a lot to me. That's all."

Shepard had to know, "He only saw you as a friend?"

"Niket never wanted anything from me. If he _felt_ something, he was respectful enough to keep it to himself. He was…safe. Comfortable. Despite the danger, those were more innocent times."

"I see what you mean. You ever thought about going back to your hometown? Maybe to visit."

"I've never really thought about it. My father still lives there. Seeing him around…it would be awkward."

She was kind enough to suggest: "If you ever wanna head down there, just let me know. We'll make it a priority. It's up to you, babe."

"Perhaps I'll consider it one of these days. Certainly not any time soon. Thank you nonetheless."

We spent a while longer eating together, drinking together, talking together—all underneath the starry night sky. I'd lost track of when we'd actually cleaned off our plate, though I admittedly had a few more glasses of wine to drink. Shepard had such an understated talent for charming me with her directness. Whenever she smiled at me as I spoke, she did so genuinely. Whenever she laughed with me, she did it sincerely. Whenever she called me beautiful, with the city lights enhancing the brightness of her own eyes, she made me feel as if I was the only woman on this entire colony. Illium could have been completely devoid of other sentient life, and I wouldn't notice or care. Not for as long as Shepard gave me her undivided attention. Not for as long as she admired me with her gaze, eternal in her admiration for me.

At some point after I paid for our dinner, Shepard offered her hand to me. She brought me closer to the balcony's railing. We stood along this view overlooking Nos Astra, raised so high above, among these sky-high towers and other buildings. As I'd had a bit more to drink than her—and thank goodness she was driving, instead of me—I was rather loose with my smiles and laughs. And it wasn't just the alcohol that had me feeling this way: higher than these sights, these scrapers and these stars shining over our heads.

Shepard held me from behind. Secure and meaningful in her hold, she kept her arms around my waist. This railing could have disappeared; I could have been on the edge of a cliff for all I knew, and I would have felt perfectly safe like this. Even though she had my body against her, Shepard's touch felt decidedly non-sexual. She continued to respect me. She continued to enjoy me as I was, without expecting sex or feeling entitled to anything.

I could have had her hands all over me.

Or I could have had her leg in between me—even with everyone inside the restaurant staring at us.

This wine-filled euphoria had my mind going there—mostly because of Shepard's restraint. Her normalcy. The way her breaths over my neck heated me all over. How her mind didn't seem to be anywhere near sex at all, and yet mine was. There was just something about her incredible, dominant, sizable, impossibly large demeanor that had me feeling this way.

Shepard eventually noticed… _something._

That alluring depth in her voice made it all worse—"Babe. What's up with you?"

I reached my hand around, easing her face closer to mine.

Closer, for her to hold me as I was, my body wrapped in her hold, draped over her front as a Grecian flow.

Close enough for me to whisper against her skin: "Shouldn't you already know?"

And then, just like a sunrise, her face reddened beneath my lips, sun-kissed to perfection.

"Miranda…"

"Shepard, I love how respectful you are. But right now, that's getting in the way of things. _I want you."_

Already I felt her heart pounding against my back—as hard and as fast as I wanted her inside of me.

Still she refused to change her façade.

I gave her some more to sip on: "You know, I don't think you understand…the depths of my desires for you. I've practically killed to have you already. And that was just the tip of the iceberg. I've needed you for so long. I refused to let anyone else have me, because I knew they couldn't compare to you. It's _your_ essence I've imagined all these years. Your spirit, your soul filling me whole. I want you to break me. To shape me. To make me yours. And for you to do it all over again—every single night. You've earned my body, Shepard. I can't believe I'm saying this, but you truly are entitled to have me."

Measured even at a time like this, Shepard wouldn't lose control. Not now. Not yet.

She insisted on asking me, "If that's the case, how exactly do you want it? I know there's a fetish you have. Something you've hinted about. Something you need me to lace in when I fuck you. So what is it?"

I was about to implode.

Because of her words. Because of her tone. Because _she knew,_ and she was in control.

Struggling to keep my own control, I told her, "You'll find out soon enough. Take me home first. I'll explain more once we're there."

Keeping one arm hooked around me, she quickly went to get her jacket.

Shepard then led me back through Mister A's, managing her quickness, as she knew I was rather tipsy. She kept the same energy in getting me to the elevator, and then back to my car. And she drove us home, going slightly over the speed limit. That speed was Shepard's only giveaway, but a powerful one.

I absolutely adored this influence I had over her.

* * *

Movement and momentum and meaning—Shepard had her hands over me, her lips on mine as soon as we entered my apartment. The second we were through the door, she swept me away. She kissed me as hard as I wanted. She groped me as firmly as I needed. She gave me everything she could at a time like this, at a moment like this. Shepard already had me against the kitchen counter, inspiring me with her touch and her breaths and her lips, finally as unrelenting as I'd imagined. I pulled her jacket off and set it aside—somewhere over the counter, maybe, I didn't know. I was more focused on consuming her as she consumed me; breathing her as she breathed me in, more so as the smell of roses had populated all around us, enhancing everything just so.

Even still, I remembered my control again.

I pressed my palm to the firmness of Shepard's shoulder, halting her.

Drugged, she groaned, and stared at me, leveraging her weight and her strength against me.

I only smiled and said, "Not yet. We're doing this on my terms, remember? You'll have to be patient."

"For how much longer?" she grunted out.

"For however long I decide. Besides, we still need to discuss a few things. Come along, Shepard."

Pulling her with me by her loosened collar, I brought Shepard upstairs to my bedroom. The whole way, I had such a devious smirk on my face, my own lips imprinted with the memory of hers. She seemed just a little disoriented. Focused on taking me, pleasing me. Shepard couldn't really imagine much else. Almost uncharacteristic, she even stared at my ass as I walked in front of her. I shared this smirk with her from over my shoulder, loving that she'd finally decided to set aside some decorum. As I'd told her earlier, her respect for me was admirable, but it did get in the way sometimes. Times like now, I preferred her to remove the filters and her gentlemanly manners—to show me how she could've lost control, all because of how much she needed to fuck me.

That second recording I'd sent her earlier, of Jacob and me, must have surely helped with this energy.

Now that we were at this stage, with no more drama in our way, she had no excuses anymore.

Yet I wanted to keep teasing her anyway, if only to make certain we were on the same page.

Upstairs in the aquatic blue of my room, these lights from my fish tank welcomed us in the night. I took the opportunity to sit down on the bed first. Expectant. Shepard knew what I required of her. Just as she had done earlier, she knelt down before me. Kind and considerate, she kept her hormones in-check for long enough, taking my boots off for me. Even feeling this outline of her touch over my legs, beneath the leather, gave me the beginnings of such an entrancing high. I felt it more once she set both of my boots aside, staying down where she was as she removed her own shoes.

Watching her closely, I explained, "I considered having us go someplace else tonight. After dinner. Maybe to Azure, or a club or bar. The mood didn't seem right. I feel better having you at home with me instead."

"I feel the same way," she shared. "We can go out like that some other time." Uncertain, Shepard deferred to me: "How do you want to have this talk?"

"Come up here and lie down on your back."

Shepard did as I said.

Her head supported well by my pillows behind her, she seemed more than comfortable.

To reward and to tease her, I straddled Shepard's waist accordingly.

Right away she moved her hands to my hips, gripping me to hold herself still. For some kind of restraint.

She dug her nails in more the moment I took off my shirt. In confidence of my own, I smirked down at her reaction, her muted shock. Shepard hardened her gaze, as if staring straight through me with a pointed heat. She did her best to only look down at my neck, or the black lace of my bra at best. Nothing lower, nothing further. She forced herself to keep still instead. Hard breaths, harder thoughts. All perfect in my eyes.

"Do I have your attention, then?" I asked.

Shepard labored to not labor her breathing. "Yes, Miranda."

"Will you behave for a little while longer?"

_"Yes."_

"Hmm, good. Now onto this topic I've briefly hinted about. This specific fetish of mine. You're right that this is something I need. The thing is, I've never had it before. It's also a very sensitive matter. I hope you're ready to listen."

"I'm listening, babe."

"Well, as you know, I was created with supposedly perfect genes. The perfect woman. The perfect sex object for men. It's safe to say that the notion messed with my head. My own personal perceptions: how I see myself. I'm used to people believing that they can objectify me. As that commodity. A bitch, a whore, a slut. That hatred is palpable. At the same time…"

Shepard knew. "It's empowering when you consent to that treatment instead."

"Yes, it is," I agreed, glad that she understood. "You remember when the old crew wouldn't shut up with their opinions of me. I've dealt with that my whole life. Turning that on its head with you, it's my own way of coping with that sort of thing. Feeling free from those hurt feelings in the past. Like I'm stronger than those words, those actions, those power structures. That specific gaze. Empowering, as you said."

"But in any other situation, you won't tolerate it."

"Of course not. In trust and consent, this is a major turn-on for me. Humiliate me, objectify me. Use me. All in that way. As long as I'm in the correct headspace, it'll drive me wild. I hope you'll be able to tell the difference. This also clashes with your manners. Your fairness. So I want you to think it over. All right?"

"I hear what you're saying. I promise I'll think about it first."

Holding Shepard's gorgeous face in my hands, I leaned down to kiss her once: deep and full of gratitude.

"You know what my other stipulations are," I whispered, right in her mouth. "When we have sex, you're to wear a condom. I want the responsibility of monitoring any possible changes with my cycle. I need your faith, your security, and your certainty. No cheating whatsoever. Not physically, not emotionally. I won't allow any other women to come between us—never, ever again. Do you understand me?"

"Yes, I understand," she vowed. "You're my only one. I'll work to keep things that way."

"I enjoy hearing that from you. But, more importantly, I'm essentially writing you a blank check. I don't have a contract for us. Mostly because I don't know what else I want or don't want. I'd like you to help me find out what those things are. I gave you my hard limit, back at Eternity, about you not leaving me alone. Aside from the other things I just mentioned, everything else is open for our discovery together."

Shepard accepted my utmost trust in her. "Okay, babe. We'll figure this out in due time. I'm with you."

"That sounds wonderful, Shepard. But what about you? Is there anything you need from me?"

"Miranda, you're already giving it to me. It's automatic for you. It's part of your personality."

"Hmm, how do you mean?"

Smirking over the obvious, she pointed out, "The main thing…we do it by default. I'm younger than you. I think I give off a certain energy you thrive on. I like catering to you. Pleasing you. You're unapologetic in the things you need from me. I really love that about you."

I laughed softly. "Don't you think I'm bossy?"

"No, you're not bossy. You _are_ the boss. There's a big difference."

Laughing more in pure delight, I had to agree. "I do enjoy the sound of that."

"I mean it, babe. Whenever you say _I expect,_ it gets me going. I want to follow your orders."

"I'll take that as the utmost compliment from you. Though I have to add— _I expect you_ to keep behaving tonight. I have one final surprise for us."

"I'll do as you say. What's this surprise?"

Opening my omni-tool, I checked the time.

Exactly 10:00pm.

Oddly punctual.

"It's something I've taken my time with showing you. I'm not sure if you remember: when we were first on Omega together, you asked me about one of the ship's facilities. _Insomnia._ It's only available to use at certain times—from ten at night to seven in the morning. It's a virtual reality game."

"Yeah, I remember," said Shepard. "I thought it was strange. I couldn't access the game myself at the time. You put some type of block. Usually, the captain has access to everything on their ship."

 _"Usually,_ yes. But I asked EDI to forbid your access for the time being. As a favor to me."

"Until you were ready."

"I'm ready now. We don't need to be aboard the _Normandy_ to access it. We're still within range."

"Well…what is this game about, exactly?"

"I'd much rather show you directly. Let's just say this game is the sum of my feelings for you. Uncensored."

Teasing more, I used my omni-tool to place a holographic headset over Shepard's eyes. Then I activated the game, sending her into the pitch black of Insomnia's first interface. Once she answered my questions, the resolution that Legion told me about would be complete. Shepard and I could explore this summation of my hard work for her, my devotion for her. We could experience this grandiose awe of what could have been in our lives. Until everything had changed.

Insomnia was what I had prepared for.

Insomnia was what I had expected throughout the Lazarus Project.

Insomnia had been my only hope across two years of hopelessness, working myself to death for this.

Professional to the last, I would have surely succeeded in my efforts. Yet now that Shepard and I were on this path, what I'd conceived before was no longer necessary. No longer needed, but the spectacle and the power and the meaning were no less so. She deserved this special treatment from me, as this gift of her unconscious mind, now linked to the broader universe: as this sleepless city of her greatness, unending.


	42. Insomnia - After Hours

_"VR Room" from Assassin's Creed Brotherhood_

**XLII.** Insomnia – After Hours

_(Shepard)_

Keying-in to all beyond my conscious view, I awoke to complete darkness.

Vaguely aware of a headset over my eyes in real life: I had my sight replaced with this game, this new reality, entirely virtual. No HUD items had transposed on my sight. I just had a regular first-person view.

But for the time being, only this pitch-black surrounded me. Still wearing my same clothes from my date with Miranda, I stood on what felt like a platform. Accurate to the detail, I didn't even have my shoes on, as I technically had them off as I lay in Miranda's bed outside the game. This cold, hard floor almost felt like glass, yet it was sturdy enough to hold my weight just fine.

Somewhere up above, clusters of stars shined and sparkled, the milky fog of that collection glimmering through this otherwise lightless dark. Through that gathering, I thought I spotted two constellations. Two specific constellations. One shaped as a quadrangle, with two leg-like balances at the longest corners—that was definitely the Libra constellation. Longer and much larger, and right next to this one, was another depiction of a winged goddess, of the Virgo constellation.

_"Shepard, can you hear me?"_

I responded, "Yes, Miranda. Where are you?"

_"You'll find me soon enough. I'll explain everything then. For now, we need to go through a few details. Do you remember when you first woke up after the Lazarus Project, and I asked you those questions, to test your recollection? We'll have to repeat this. Otherwise, the rest of Insomnia won't load properly. Though the questions won't all be the same. They can't be. Not at this point in your life. Is that all right?"_

"Okay, if that's what we need to do."

_"Good. Thank you. First, I'll need you to again confirm your background, your psychological profile, and your combat specialization."_

"Earthborn," I said. "Ruthless. Infiltrator: tactical cloak, sniper rifle and pistol proficiencies, Icarus Landing System, emergency temperature management, starvation and exhaustion suspensions."

_"Perfect. What is your rank in the Alliance? And what does it mean to you?"_

"Commander. It's part of my identity."

_"Indeed it is. Next, can you confirm the full name of your partner and love interest?"_

I felt myself grinning. "Miranda Lawson."

Laced with pride, Miranda laughed softly. _"Excellent. On to your more recent service history. The night I confessed all to you about the team, and what I had done over the two years you were gone—you made the choice to pause the mission. We then retreated to your apartment in San Diego together. You had to know there were risks involved with this decision. Why did you choose to go ahead with it anyway?"_

"It's true there were risks involved. One of the potential recruits from our dossiers ended up dead during that time. Not to mention the plague and political situation on Omega wouldn't have gotten so bad, had we arrived there sooner. The fact of the matter is, you and I were both unfocused. We needed some time to retreat. And I wanted to get to know you properly. I really did."

_"Mmm, a fine answer. What about when we did finally reach Omega? Your initial encounter with Aria was a tense one, all things considered. Tell me your first impression of her from that day."_

"I remember thinking Aria had a huge ego. A gigantic ego getting in the way of her citizens' well-being. It turned me off. She shouldn't have needed us to handle that situation. But it all worked out in the end."

_"I have to agree with you. Do you generally consider one's ego to be bad? Or otherwise undesirable."_

I wondered exactly what this had to do with my _service history._

Miranda sounded intrigued now. _"Shepard, I know you're questioning my motives. Answer the question."_

"Honestly, when someone is too concerned about their ego, I see it as a bad thing. It's too much of a short-term satisfaction. A wiser person should be able to set their ego aside for more honorable goals."

_"That's fair to say. Finally, do you believe one's ego is tied to their sense of empathy? How or how not?"_

"Mine is," I reasoned. "So I would have to say yes. If not for my ego, I wouldn't have much empathy."

_"Could you expand on that?"_

"Most of my _social_ emotions are self-regulated. I recognize my deficits. I have control over those faults."

_"Still a rather vague answer. Yet I have a feeling the details will reveal themselves in due time. Go ahead and open your omni-tool now. Your new game should begin loading. I'll see you in a few minutes."_

Checking my omni-tool's interface, I saw what looked like an N7 logo, as the auto-save icon spinning in a corner.

Once the save finished, everything loaded around me:

Deceptive in limitations, these virtual building blocks spanned out in my immediate area. Still dark with little light, my senses mainly picked up on these sounds. Those building blocks creating and packing and rising, filling the space around me beneath the starry night sky. As this indoor scenery populated the space, even the constellations above fell out of view, as this area enclosed itself. Some sort of road, or a service tunnel replaced the emptiness that used to be around me. Minor echoing sounds from this empty space filled the area, with hints of rapid traffic somewhere up above. No cars were on this road down here, except for a single vehicle waiting along the side of the tunnel, near a wall:

Colored the same shining, chocolate brown as my car back home, this ground automobile waited there for me. And I knew it was for me, specifically: the alarm lights blinked twice in acknowledgement as I looked at the car. Sharpened and styled in status, this vehicle was pretty much what my skycar would've looked like with four doors and wheels. But that tint over the windows was unusually dark. Pitch-black.

The license plate read— _PRINCE S._

Out of habit, I went to the driver's side. Expecting the alarm system to let me in, I was annoyed when the door refused to open. Peering around inside, I couldn't see anyone sitting in the driver's seat, or the passenger's seat. I wasn't sure how, but I _felt_ someone there, ready to drive me to my next destination. My own personal chauffeur.

I tried opening one of the back doors. It worked this time, letting me in just fine.

I settled into the air-conditioned space, cushioned and comforted by the leather seating. Perfectly clean everywhere. A familiar, artificial smell of the crisp, cinnamon car freshener reached my nose. I wanted to look up front to see who was there, but I couldn't—a thick, black partition separated the front half of the car from the back. So I had no way of knowing who the hell turned the car on. That anonymous chauffeur drove off through the service tunnel at a decent pace, as if they knew where to go already.

Even though this ride felt pretty smooth, not having any control had me unsettled.

The only thing I could do was look at the back of the seat in front of me. I found a screen here linked to the car's navigation system. As we drove through the tunnel, the digital map filled out a little bit at a time, following the discovery outside. Everything else aside from this path remained blank, as yet undiscovered and unexplored. I used the zoom out function on the screen to get a better look at this place. Endless and endless, I could've done this for several minutes at a time and not reach the boundary of this map.

As a reflection of that scope, I witnessed it for myself once the car exited the service tunnel:

Outside the tinted windows, I saw the massive rise of city buildings and towers and landmarks. The shape of them in strength and confidence, the stark chrome of them glimmering in the moonlight, and the golden glow emanating from the windows—they all seemed familiar, too. Rising up to the full moon peering through the heavy clouds, those buildings seemed to brood as they stared down at me. Other cars traveled the streets and boulevards of this metropolis; other civilians walked along the sidewalks, and descended to the underground transportation areas. But those cars and civilians appeared almost transparent, like they weren't quite _real_ in this virtual world. Their lives seemed real enough, though, as everyone went about their business, going from place to place with actual motivations in mind. The metropolis itself lived and breathed in more sentience and reality than the rest of the people.

As another beyond-reality experience, I caught sight of the tallest building in the near-distance.

The car approached along a diagonal boulevard, nearing the wide structure centered at the next intersection. Looking a lot like the other buildings around, this one was much larger and taller…and more obvious in how it stood out. I imagined anyone could see it from any point, anywhere in the city.

Aside from its massive size, another detail distinguished the building from the rest: something of a wide, metallic, golden halo jutted out from the topmost point. From that gold, a mist of everlasting light permeated from that place, filling the rest of the city, much like it did back home for me in San Diego. The more I stared at that halo—and this light everywhere—the more I felt like I _was_ back in my hometown. As if these buildings all around were the same brooding ones I'd stared out at my whole life.

As expected, the car stopped right in front of this halo-ringed tower.

Stepping out to the pavement, I stared up at the dizzying heights overhead. Somehow, I could almost hear the huge halo giving off sounds, ever-so-faint from here. Misting out from the light, the golden material chimed in a lonely, forlorn sense. Something about it reached at my core, as if it was from me, maybe.

This building's large, glass doors awaited up a large set of steps, shining in a rich, reflective darkness.

Out of curiosity, I glanced around the area. A few translucent barriers limited where I could go. I assumed this large building would have my tutorial inside. I couldn't progress until I cleared this first.

So I headed up the steps to the automatic doors, hoping to find Miranda in here.

Through the doors, I arrived to what looked like a foyer in a corporate building.

More darkness, more reflective surfaces, with polished marble floors of a dark, dark blue that was almost black in appearance. No bright overhead lighting to cancel out the moody atmosphere all around. Another set of stairs awaited just ahead, centered with a fine violet carpet. But here, off to the side, I found what looked like a holo-closet along the wall. Something about it seemed to call out to me.

Checking the closet, there was only one outfit:

The custom-made, three-piece suit that Miranda had gotten tailored for me at the mall earlier.

Smiling over her consideration, I changed into the outfit. Black jacket, black vest, black trousers, black shoes, black tie, and the dark, dark violet of the shirt underneath: dignified and structured all around. Fine silver of a belt buckle rested along my waist; more silver lined my wrists with cufflinks; and a hanging silver chain looped down the side of my leg. As I moved, the chain in particular made a sound, as if announcing my presence, to keep me from sneaking around. This couldn't have been a coincidence.

Mindful of this chain chiming in-time with my footsteps, I went up the next set of stairs.

As I went, I caught the sense of grandiosity in the area up above. Stairs and escalators rising upward; higher floors rising well overhead; grander, open space that told the same story as the foyer, brightened only by the red and blue floor lights everywhere. More dark marble lit up by those floor lights; wall space of the same dark color, taken up by Cerberus and Alliance logos, everywhere. Much like outside, other people populated this space, too—transparent, again. Alliance soldiers and Cerberus employees, each in their respective uniforms and attire, going from place to place. Working together. Working in true unity.

The most perfect sense of unity awaited me just at the top of the staircase.

Miranda stood there in confidence, competence. Cognizant of my surprise to see her like this: she nearly took my senses from me, looking the way she did. Wearing a variant of her Cerberus uniform, she'd modified it with a custom-made dress. Black and structured and lined with violet to match my suit, she bore practicality with the elegance about her, everywhere. Even with that flow off to the side and down her back, Miranda retained the tightness of her heeled boots, and more leather all the way up her legs. The only skin she showed was the generous view of her cleavage, as always, and the beauty of her face.

A true elevation of her femme fatale look. Perfection all-around. She had me speechless.

Miranda gave me a knowing smile.

"Hello there, handsome," she greeted, the near-crystals of her blue eyes glimmering in this darklight.

I still couldn't get a word out.

Pleased to see me like this, Miranda stepped over my way. She looked me over, surveying.

More pleasure she expressed, approving of my suit, my accessories, and my hair. She smoothed her hands down the lapels of my jacket, admiring me.

"This is exactly what I wanted," she said. "You standing here like this. At a loss for words. All while looking completely stunning. A woman of your stature and power always looks best in darker clothing. Your natural colors stand out that much more. I should know. I've spent a long time imagining this night."

On instinct, I held Miranda's waist in my hands. Watching her smirk more, I was surprised at how accurate my sense of touch was—in this game. The smooth fabric of her dress felt real to my palms.

"Miranda…what _is_ this place?"

"Well, you know the game itself is called Insomnia. I tasked Legion with creating this during the Lazarus Project. You could say it's a virtual manifestation of your mind. Specifically, your unconscious mind. Including our collective unconscious as organic species. I take it you're familiar with both concepts."

"Yes, I am. How was Legion able to recreate something like this?"

"It was rather vague on the details," explained Miranda. "But, when I put your consciousness back together, Legion was able to find enough traces of your unconscious mind. Just to drive the point home, I'll use the common analogy of an iceberg in the middle of an ocean. Our conscious mind is the part of the iceberg that's visible along the water's surface—we know what we know, and what we see. Our unconscious mind is everything beneath the waters, well beyond our view—what we can't know. Some of what's in this building—and the outer city—contains what you cannot see or know about yourself."

"What's the purpose of this game, then? What is our objective?"

"Mmm, I admit that's changed quite a bit since the onset. I had originally planned on using this place as an escape. For the two of us. During the Reaper invasion, we'll be able to come here to get away. That sort of escape isn't entirely necessary at this stage. Not like I imagined before. Things are different now."

I sensed a lot of history behind her answer. "What do you mean by that?"

Miranda almost didn't want to admit—"I'd intended to use this…to seduce you. In secret. Before everything changed. Maybe even to have an affair, if you wanted it. The thought always made me uncomfortable. I never saw myself as _the other woman._ That role just wouldn't have worked for me."

"Honestly, I think you would've pulled it off."

"You say that now. That particular future still didn't sit right with me. I'm glad we don't need to bother."

"Agreed," I said, looking around again. "So what is this building, then? From what I could tell, it's the biggest one in the whole city. It looks pretty impressive. Is this a corporation or something?"

"It _is_ a corporation, yes. Walk with me, Shepard. Let's take a little tour together—as your tutorial."

I held Miranda's hand as she led me farther inside this place.

As the area expanded, leading to all those staircases and escalators, we found what looked like the ground floor for this mega-corporation. All the translucent soldiers and executives from Cerberus and the Alliance alike—they continued to go about their own business, not even noticing Miranda or me. They all felt _familiar,_ too. Even if I didn't recognize any of these faces directly, it was possible they knew who I was in real life. These might have been actual people in that case.

They went off into separate rooms both down here and upstairs. Working there, or just congregating.

I wasn't sure how these complete strangers had jobs to do in my own mind. But I appreciated it.

Miranda asked me, "So, what do you think of this place? Does it impress you?"

"It's really impressive. Incredible. What exactly does this building represent about me?"

"Your ego."

"My ego?! Seriously?"

"Yes, Shepard," confirmed Miranda, amused. "This building is the virtual manifestation of your ego. Its appearance mirrors your self-confidence, your self-esteem, and your perception of yourself. The many rooms and tasks everywhere are what help you moderate your personality. Given that the ego has aspects that are both conscious and unconscious, this was the perfect bridge to the rest of Insomnia—most of which is your unconscious mind, and our collective unconscious, as I mentioned before."

"Okay, then why does this whole thing look so corporate? It's nothing like me."

"Well, your ego is your personal brand. So this building _should_ appear corporate. In that sense."

"Maybe…"

Smiling over my sulking, she tried a different approach—"Think of it this way: your unconscious mind performs many functions behind-the-scenes, all to keep things running smoothly. Those functions employ the many 'people' of this corporation. It's simply a well-oiled machine as a business. That's all."

"I can accept that."

"I would hope so. I'd like us to refer to this place as headquarters, or HQ as necessary. This building was the only accessible area for the longest. Things have changed, and grown, and expanded over time. Outside, other locations will make themselves available to you. They'll be procedurally generated as you grow closer with the team—and as they grow closer to one another. We're all networked together."

I wondered, "The team isn't _here_ in the game, are they?"

"If they're asleep, then you should be able to access their dreams. You don't need to sleep. The others do. That's why this place is called Insomnia—and it's only available during sleeping hours. Ten at night to seven in the morning. Outside of those hours, everything will need to recharge and reload."

"Then…is our objective to spy on everyone's dreams? To figure out their minds that way?"

"Our objective is whatever you decide it will be on any given night. There's far more to this game than snooping on our teammates' dreams or nightmares as we please. But even I don't know everything. Much of it is unknown. You'll need to explore both HQ and the city itself to find out more on your own."

"You can come with me, right?" I asked.

"Of course," said Miranda. "We're already in a party now. Check your omni-tool."

Briefly letting go of her hand, I followed her instructions. Here on my interface, I saw that we really were in a party together, with me as the leader. Just the two of us—for now? Either way, as we went, my navigation system filled out the geographic data for HQ. Miranda had us heading down a hallway leading to the central elevator. And in this hall, I picked up on that chiming from my side chain, sounding a little louder in this enclosed space, punctured by our footsteps moving in unison over the dark marble floor.

"Babe, why did you want this chain on my suit? It isn't _loud,_ but…"

Miranda smiled as I held her hand again. "I can't have you sneaking up on me later. Besides, I like it."

"You liked the one I wore on our first date, did you?"

"Perhaps that might've been the inspiration," she teased, coy.

At the central elevator, Miranda pressed the button to go up. A pleasant chime sounded; the shining surfaces of the doors opened right away, letting us in. I let Miranda through first, as always, following after her heeled, clicking footsteps onto the marble within the elevator. This cylindrical space opened up at the back half, made completely of a sturdy, bulletproof glass. These sights opened up to a full view of the city. I stared out to the night's metropolis as the elevator took us up to the 60th floor. Rising higher at a smooth, even pace, I could definitely see that this headquarters was the tallest building in Insomnia.

Miranda stood next to me, watching on with such a look of satisfaction.

"So?" she asked, expectant. "Have I succeeded in surprising you? Impressing you, even."

Still speechless in a way, I held her close instead.

Easing my lips over Miranda's face—the satisfied shape of her smile—she found my concessions.

Notoriously difficult as it was to surprise me, she'd more than _succeeded._ She'd surpassed even my wildest imagination about what she had in-store for us. She herself surpassed my every expectation with ease. And this was exactly why no one could ever compare to her, or compete with her. Exactly why I felt myself glued to her, latching to her beyond physicality; stuck to her and steadily losing my composure around her. Quietly crazy about Miranda in these ways, she felt only my controlled settings around this sense. Even in my control, her pleasure grew, with the shape of her smile widening and widening beneath my taste.

Even kissing her lips tasted the same, felt the same as in real life. I could inhale these exhalations from Miranda, feeling as the pinnacle of my ego, within my ego, with her as mine. Some of the wine we'd shared over dinner still lingered over her, filling her mouth with more flavor in richness. Lounging her arms over my neck and shoulders, she found her leverage here beneath me. Smoothing her hand along my suit jacket, my lapel again, Miranda had me under her control, even beyond my own attempts.

"I'll accept this answer," she murmured. "And I accept my victory for your challenge."

"Well-earned," I praised. "When did you come up with the idea for this game?"

"Well, I had toyed with the concept many years before. You and I are both mental creatures. I figured something like this would serve to bring us closer. By the time the Lazarus Project became a necessity, this turned into a more practical venture. _Technically,_ I've stored your consciousness here in this space. In case you happen to die again, I won't need to spend so much time putting your mind back together. I could simply upload it and be done. Or…I could upload your consciousness elsewhere if needed."

"As a last resort."

"Yes, a last resort."

"You make it sound like I could replace EDI in the _Normandy_ if I had to."

"If that was the only option, then it would certainly be possible. But I would never _want_ to do that."

I couldn't even imagine something that crazy.

As we reached the 60th floor, the elevator doors opened to the expanse of the area. Holding Miranda's hand again, we walked together to this broader space, styled much like the rest of the building downstairs. More open areas, with rows of leather couches spread out around, and decorative plants enhancing the mellow atmosphere everywhere. Those Cerberus and Alliance employees lounged along the seats here, alone or in groups. They stared out the nearby picture windows that raised up to the ridiculously high ceiling, looking on at the spread of the city tinted by the golden, misting light at night.

Somewhere in the center of the area, I spotted what looked like a giant hangar space.

In that center was a life-sized replica of the _Normandy,_ able to fit in this building with ease.

As the centerpiece of this floor, other hallways led out to various other doors and rooms.

Miranda led me to one of those halls, explaining, "Everything on this floor contains certain truths about you. Mostly your fears, thoughts, memories, and other sentiments that you might not be aware of. They are beyond your conscious perception, yet they continually influence your emotions and decisions. All in ways you will never fully understand. Most are related to your ego, as that is where we currently are. But there could be more. Do you want to look around first before we go explore the rest of the city?"

"Yeah, let's take a look," I agreed. "I want to see what's in a few of these rooms, at least."

"We'll do that, then. Though you should be aware: you won't be able to use your tactical cloak here in Insomnia. Not in headquarters, nor in the greater city. You're simply not allowed to have access to it."

"Really? Why not?"

Pure wisdom: "You can't hide from your own mind, Shepard. So I'd advise you to be cautious while exploring."

"Makes sense…"

Arriving to the first room in the hall, Miranda gave me some more advice—"I should warn you. Some of these images won't make much sense. If you'd like, I can offer my own speculation. There's no guarantee that my answers will be entirely accurate. I can only make informed guesses."

Not quite knowing what to expect, I opened the door.

Miranda walked inside with me—and we found what should have been a normal room, with a normal banquet going on. Something of a party or celebration, but with no one inside. Tables lined the area with red tablecloths. On top of those tables were several plates of food. Food on top of food on top of food, to excess—gaudy and showy meals, with ridiculously ostentatious presentations. Decorative stacks of cake, piled and piled up to the ceiling, with chocolate fountains pouring out back down like lava.

Instead of regular chairs at the tables, there were a bunch of beanbag chairs. Punctured, deflated. Fillings pouring and spilling out to the hardwood floor. Shaped the same, several large sports balls dotted the place. Again, punctured and deflated and flattened.

Unused. Broken.

Worthless.

Dead.

Farther out along the room's perimeter…lay several coffins.

Presumably, they were all full. Closed lids. They just _felt_ occupied.

Humming in concern, Miranda walked to the center of the room. There she found a simulacrum of me, shadowed in my same shape—standing with a plate of salad in my hands. Not eating it. Just holding the plate. Refusing to move at all. Clutching the plate, almost. But, again, refusing to eat a single bite.

Feeling a sudden urge to leave the room, I forced myself to stay put.

Miranda turned to look at me, asking, "Do you feel this speaks for itself? The symbolism, I mean."

"Yeah…more or less."

"What can you remember of this room's origins? How did it start? Aside from your modeling career."

"Well, growing up, I wasn't always able to eat when I wanted. I can remember seeing these types of flashy meals in advertisements, thinking it was all a waste. That extravagance and excess…it didn't feel fair to me. I think some of this related to my own self-image, too. My friends and people in other houses used to obsess over my looks. Like it was my best quality. If I lost my looks, or 'let myself go', I wouldn't be worth much anymore. I hated that feeling. I wanted to be worth something on my own merits."

"Your own skills," noted Miranda, observing my shadow once more. "Do you see what she's wearing?"

Looking closer, I saw: "It's my Alliance uniform. The military was the best way for me to prove myself."

"Military realness indeed."

"Pretty much… I also have the same problem with getting old. Losing my touch. It's a big fear of mine."

Clairvoyant, Miranda reassured me: "I don't think that's something you need to worry about."

"What are you talking about? Time's always passing. We're always getting older. It's unavoidable."

"I know that, Shepard. In fact, my father saw the same problem when he created me. I'll likely live half as long again as the average human. Even then, that quality about me has distilled to you, through this network we share. I believe it will continue to grow. In due time, our age will be irrelevant. In that sense, you and I won't grow 'old' at all. Yet there must be some sort of trade-off. I'm waiting to see what it is."

All of a sudden, I remembered Ashley's insistence that I would never get old—or even die at all.

But how was that possible?

Knowing my thoughts already, Miranda led me back outside. "Come on. Let's go to the next room."

Again with no idea what to expect, we went to the second door.

In this dark space, only a single mirror stood in the middle of the area.

Miranda joined me as I went over to the tall glass.

But as soon as I saw what was there, I wanted to turn back around and leave.

I fought against this burning sensation in my legs to run—to bolt from this room and never come back.

As I approached the mirror, my perspective of its contents shifted just so. The person sitting there was not me. Yet I could see her from this certain perspective: as if I walked up to her sitting on the floor, instead of her finite presence within my own reflection. She sat there oblivious to me at first.

Tali sat in that space. Without her mask, I could see her there, smiling to herself. Looking almost human. Almost human enough to be me. The brights of her eyes brightened even more as she stayed in place. Unprotected, but safe and happy, she held a few stuffed rabbits close to her chest. Like they were her friends. Like they were her only friends, and she didn't care at all that she was technically alone. Making up the rest in her mind, Tali found her fulfillment from the imaginary— _invisible_ —friends in her arms.

Youthful, innocent.

Not a care in the world reached Tali as she enjoyed herself there.

Yet she seemed to sense my panic brimming as I watched her.

Tali gazed up at me in a worried sort of curiosity.

I immediately wanted to cloak to invisibility. _I couldn't._ I was suddenly aware of my chain chiming at my side—right as I took a sharp step backward. But I couldn't go anywhere. One side of my back pressed against Miranda's shoulder behind me. She used her body as that stopper, keeping me rooted in place.

"Shepard, don't run."

Fighting against my need to leave, I almost panicked—"Miranda, I can't do this."

"Yes, you can. Now stay here. Don't abandon her like this. Tell me why it bothers you so much."

"You already know why."

"Maybe I do. But I want you to use your words. Talk to me. Please."

I hated this _honesty_ piercing my chest. "Because…Tali's purest self represents what could have been. With me. If I hadn't ended up the way I did. She's an alternate reality of my own personality."

"So, when someone disrespects her, they disrespect you. When someone hurts her, they hurt you."

"And when she's alone or unloved…I am, too."

Miranda pondered the deeper meaning here. "Is this why you needed to hold onto her?"

"It's only part of the reason," I admitted. "Whatever's going on with her and Jack has seriously rubbed me the wrong way. I could never explain why. I think this is it. Tali has every right to be with whoever she wants. The thing is, if they end up hurting her, I'll lose my fucking mind over it. Because of this. This imagery in front of me. It's selfish of me to feel the way I do."

"I wouldn't say it's selfish. You naturally want to protect Tali the way you'd protect yourself."

I kept on rejecting this—"Babe, my feelings for her aren't appropriate."

"Your feelings for _me_ aren't appropriate, either, given what I know of you. Yet I welcome them nonetheless. And I'm positive Tali feels the same way about you. There's no need to feel ashamed."

"I guess so."

This surface-level acceptance made Tali's image in the mirror disappear.

"Well, that's a start," allowed Miranda, smiling. "Now that you've faced this dilemma, I'd like to show you one last room. There are many others, of course. But, as you know, we only have until seven in the morning before the game ends for the night. We can always come back to these rooms another time."

"That's fine with me. Let's head over to the third one."

After what I'd witnessed from the first two rooms, I should've known what to anticipate from this third.

Even still, I felt completely unprepared for what awaited.

Some familiarity greeted me as I walked through the door.

The calming voice from my apartment's VI: _"Welcome home, Commander Shepard."_

Waves of nostalgia populated the space around me, filling in the visuals of my home back home. These warm woods, colder metallic surfaces; the tall intimidation from the windows, the blinds opening to the golds of everlasting light fogging outside, along with those dark, brooding skyscrapers in the near and far distance; my furniture and organization and cleanliness; the years I had spent here on my own, never _really_ sharing the space with anyone for any extended period of time. And the sunlight, everywhere.

I had crafted this living space as my own.

But this was the first time I truly felt safe and relaxed in my own apartment. Mirrored in my own mind.

Mirrored more, I watched another version of myself cross the space. Not shadowed, not a mere copy: this definitely felt like _me._ Wearing my Alliance fatigues with my hair down, that version of myself left the guest room, and headed to the couch in the living room. She—or I—stood behind the couch for the longest. Watching the person sitting there, lying there, lounging in relaxation. Reading. Ignoring me.

Miranda sat in that space. Wearing her nightdress. Reading something on her omni-tool. Something important. Presumably her Cerberus reports. She appeared to know that my image was there, watching her. She didn't look up to acknowledge my copy's presence. She just kept on reading over her reports.

I found it strange that this version of me did nothing. Made no attempt to make her presence known.

She fixated her complete attention on Miranda, though. Eager, waiting. Anticipating something.

Disinterested, Miranda kept reclining over the couch. She would stroke her thighs or sigh on occasion, shifting in the sexy tightness of her lace. Yet she carried on as if nothing about the room had changed.

Until she finally decided to say, _"Shepard, there you are."_ Miranda kept her eyes to her omni-tool, even as my image warmed over the acknowledgment. _"I need you to go pick up my dry-cleaning. I've an important function to attend later this weekend. Yet another company party with the usual executives. You're coming with me as my date."_ Scrutinizing, Miranda raised her brow, glaring at my reflection at last. _"Unless you've some_ game _to play—one that's more important than I am. Is that the case or not?"_

 _"No, Miranda,"_ said my duplicate. _"You're more important to me than anything. I promise."_ Miranda gave a tepid hum of approval. My image folded her wrists over her navel—hiding a growing erection from the strap-on beneath her clothes. _"I'll go with you as your date. And I'll pick up your dry-cleaning."_

_"Good. I expect you to wear the suit I recently bought. You've grown at least two inches since your last fitting. I'm certain my colleagues will notice: they'll joke and ask what it is I'm feeding you. Simply ignore their drivel and let me do all the talking. Keep me on your arm and be handsome. You know the drill."_

_"Yes, Miranda. I understand. If that's all, then I'll be on my way."_

Miranda stayed in silence for a moment longer, wondering.

_"No, actually. That's not all. There's something I need to know."_

_"Okay. What is it?"_

Glancing down at my copy's obvious hard-on, Miranda asked, _"Why are you still here?"_

Uncertain how to respond, this other version of me said nothing.

Miranda went on, _"The way I treat you is nothing short of awful. I'm increasingly demanding. I have no regard whatsoever for your time or personal business. I have absolutely no desire to change, either. And yet you cater to my whim nonetheless. Is it because of the sex? Is that the carrot on a stick? Do you find some sort of comeuppance in getting to fuck me every night? By putting me in my place, so to speak."_

_"No, Miranda. I don't need that kind of power. You don't ever have to change. I'm happy with you."_

_"How, Shepard? How is that possible? If anyone else treated you the way I do, you would end them."_

_"Well, you're clearly an exception in my world."_

_"An exception?"_ questioned Miranda, increasingly disbelieving. _"Why? What does that mean?"_

_"I love you exactly the way you are."_

Miranda only betrayed the slightest surprise on the outside.

On the inside, my counterpart's words had affected her, deeply. Even if she refused to show it.

She chose instead to recline over the couch more, returning to her reading.

Putting on a show of apparent disinterest, she ordered: _"Go and fetch my dry-cleaning now. And be careful on the road."_

_"Yes, Miranda. I'll be back soon."_

As this image of me walked through my body, disappearing, this version of Miranda stayed on the couch. Contemplating, holding her emotions in, she wouldn't let anything show—not even to the apartment itself while she was alone. Waiting in this sense, she couldn't seem to concentrate on those reports anymore. She just stared straight ahead at the television. Hoping I would return soon. Needing me to be back already. Wishing she could change her behavior somehow, to show more gratitude and compassion and love. Yet her worst habits were baked-in already. And I held none of it against her.

In reality—virtually— _my_ Miranda grabbed hold of my arm, taking me out of this room.

She said nothing until we were back out in the hallway at headquarters.

Even then, Miranda only allowed herself to say, "…I wasn't expecting that."

"I'm not surprised by anything we saw. Are you?"

"I'm more than _surprised_ by it. Can't you tell?"

"Yeah, but you picked this room for a reason. I assumed you knew what would be in there."

"Not to that extent…"

Miranda obviously didn't want to talk about this. Not in-depth. Not like before, when I was the sole subject of these rooms and visions. I figured she saw some truth in what we'd just witnessed—about herself, about what could've been with us. There was more, too. There was always more. But she didn't want to put a voice to it. Instead, she led me away from the hall, farther up this 60th floor of the building.

* * *

As endless as this place was, the stairs reached up to more places, more areas. Miranda guided me up to the highest landing on this floor. Hand-in-hand we walked up a winding staircase, surrounding a tower that raised well up to the ceiling over our heads. This tower of glass glowed an aquamarine blue, filled with water and swimming fish, and lined with ornate decorations, signaling the elevated status of this part of headquarters. The height of these stairs brought us to the sounds and bustle of conversations and clinking glasses. Those sounds grew closer and clearer as we reached the top, finding this gathering:

High-class and highly-important, multiple Alliance higher-ups were here in their formal uniforms. Glasses of champagne in-hand, they mingled with Cerberus executives in suits and dresses, with only the obvious logos over their chests marking their affiliations. Transparent as they all were, just like everyone else in HQ, they weren't aware of our presence here. They laughed and talked in a pleasant, harmonious energy, enjoying one another's company.

Somewhat out of place: the center of this room had a control panel. It looked a lot like any set of controls for flying a ship. As if this entire area was one giant cockpit. As if the building itself—or the whole city—was actually a ship, and someone could fly it with these controls somehow.

Miranda didn't seem to know much about it. She led me away from that standout, over to the window.

With those pleasant sounds of the party just behind us, we gazed out at this view of the city.

Quiet and contemplative, Miranda had a lot on her mind. She leaned against me anyway, linking both of her arms in mine. We found our ways to enjoy the moment. No matter what was on her mind; no matter what was on mine, we had each other. I wanted her to know that. Especially at a time like this.

Nudging her a bit, I asked, "What are you thinking about?"

"Even with this prodigal ego of yours…you're very talented at making exceptions for me."

"You deserve it, babe."

Miranda laughed a little in disbelief. "How do you know that for certain?"

"There's this sense of security you give me, too. I know you'd never leave me. I don't have to worry about protecting myself from that possibility. At the same time, I'm not taking you for granted. I can accept anything else that happens, knowing that we'll work things out. I accept you the way you are."

I hoped she caught my actual meaning.

Given the way Miranda couldn't look at me, this hope of mine came true.

She changed the subject, too, giving herself away even more:

"Well, in any event…this is as far as we can go within headquarters. As you can see, the building goes on for far more than sixty floors. Everything above us is sadly inaccessible—for the time being. I'm not clear on how we can gain access. But as with the rest, I assume we'll make progress as we continue to explore HQ. And the rest of Insomnia. We can head out to the city now if you'd like. Take a look around."

"We should do that. Do we need to gear-up first? Are there any hostiles outside? _Monsters,_ or…?"

"I actually don't know," admitted Miranda. "It wouldn't hurt to check what's available. You can view your skills and equipment from any active console—or with your omni-tool. Did you unlock anything?"

Opening my omni-tool, I told her, "Looks like I have something from exploring those rooms. An omni-blade attachment. Guessing this is a sword for my omni-tool for close-range combat. And I have a new ability for blending with crowds of people. I can turn them into copies of myself. But no sniper rifles."

"Hmm, I haven't unlocked anything else. When I first arrived, I found that my biotics work as normal. And I do have other skills and such to unlock. My progression system seems to be different than yours."

"Is it giving you any hints?"

"None," said Miranda, disappointed. "Nothing at all. I suppose I'll just have to find out as we go along."

"We can head down to my car," I suggested. "Drive around and see what we can find. Before we do…I just wanted to thank you. For doing all this. It's definitely the best experience anyone's ever given me. I have to say, it's magnificent."

Smiling over my praise, Miranda shared, "Well, you inspire this magnificence in me. All the time. If there was any way to visibly describe how I feel for you, then _this_ would be it. I'm eternally grateful that you like this place. That you appreciate it. I hoped with all my heart that you would like everything here."

"I more than like it, babe. Your mind is a treasure, and your heart is invaluable to me. There's no other person in this galaxy I want by my side. Only you. No matter what happens, I'm with you. You have me."

Miranda beamed at me this time, teasing, "Aren't you a charmer?"

"I try my best," I said, shrugging with a grin of my own.

She stroked my face fondly, adoring me with her touch, and her gaze for days.

"You'll have to give me more of these compliments sometime soon. Let's go back to the elevator. Your car should still be outside waiting for us."

Leaving this party overlooking the cityscape, Miranda and I went back downstairs.

Through the foyer at the entrance, and down the large set of stairs outside, we arrived to my car.

I opened the backseat door, helping Miranda in first. Once she was settled, I walked around to the other side, getting in. That mysterious driver had waited for us all this time; still separated by this dark partition halving the front seat from the back. Miranda frowned in their direction, not knowing who it was, either, before watching me open the car's navigation system. The driver expected me to set a destination. I had no idea how to do that if nothing was unlocked on the map yet…

Miranda let me know, "We'll have to find our team members' locations manually. But just this once. Even though their locations will likely change from session to session, everything will automatically reveal itself after finding them once. We won't need to go searching for them a second time."

"Sounds convenient."

Seeing the empty map for herself, Miranda spotted my confusion.

She gave me a hint: "Shepard, surely _someone's_ location should be readily available. Take a closer look."

Zooming out to the middle of nowhere, I found the one and only place already marked on the map.

Just a single dot surrounded by blank space—for now—with the person's name marked above:

_Ashley._

Tensing all of a sudden, I reasoned with myself. As far-out as her place was, we were bound to find other locations along the way. Those locations would then mark themselves on the map for our convenience. We wouldn't necessarily have to go looking that much. Then we could double back someplace else later.

Once again with no idea what to expect, I selected Ashley's place as our first destination.

Miranda didn't have to say a word. She knew.

I held her hand anyway as my car drove off.

She did me one better, sitting closer to me. Close enough to lean against my shoulder, resting a bit, while I remained as this solid rock for her. Recharging her emotions—or supercharging them—in anticipation for what awaited. Really, Miranda seemed more anxious about this than I was. She didn't give it away in any obvious sense. Not necessarily. This quiet, smooth ride through Insomnia's streets heightened my notice of her—especially with Miranda this close to me, breathing this close, thinking this close. She did her best to focus on the navigation system, already filling in other places on the map.

Outside the window, I saw the evidence for myself. Nearest to HQ—closest to my ego—was Tali's location. Surreal and outlandish, there was the entire Migrant Fleet, nearly submerged underwater. I only knew it was the Flotilla from recognizing those ship designs at the top. Those huge, round liveships stood out the most. Inaccessible as the Fleet was, naturally, since Tali was pissed off at me after my confession the other day. For a moment I wondered how I hadn't spotted these thousands of ships taking up so much space. All the windows we'd looked out before had faced the back of headquarters. Not the front where these ships spread out across the cityscape. They were pretty hard to miss.

A fair distance away from the Flotilla, Garrus and Wrex's names populated the map.

Even farther away, but still within the Migrant Fleet's general area, Joker's name popped up.

My car then took a highway that didn't look like a highway at all: lowered at ground-level, we passed over a beach that had thinned and into a long, winding bridge of sand. At either side of the sand-bridge, the ocean shore ebbed and flowed, waters glimmering in the moonlight up above.

Somewhere across the way, beyond the seas around us, Mordin's location filled itself out. Just barely, I made out what looked like a lush, tropical forest. Was that the salarian homeworld, Sur'Kesh?

It wasn't until we exited the highway that Kasumi's name appeared, still a decent distance away. Not at all surprising, her area was a gigantic bank, guarded with all sorts of security measures. No one could survive a heist in a place like that.

Farther still, we passed by Zaeed's place. Some kind of hotel. About average-size compared to the rest of the towers and buildings around, I couldn't pick out anything unusual about his location. Until I looked closer, and spotted the clientele. There were only asari going in and out of the hotel for some reason. No humans, salarians, krogan, or anyone else. Just asari dressed in revealing clothes. Specifically.

Miranda scoffed in disapproval.

I could only wonder about the actual meaning there.

Truly in the middle of nowhere, we eventually arrived to Ashley's place, well away from everyone else's.

Out in these barren suburbs for no one, only a single house existed here. A single house on fire, the flames rising up to the skies, ashes clouding the winds. The front and back yards, the picket fence, the dog house along the side, and the garage—everything burned on and on, with no end in sight. Even then, the flames didn't seem dangerous for some reason. They just existed there, heating and blazing.

Or at least they weren't dangerous to me.

"You go on ahead," said Miranda. "I'd much rather wait here. Something about this doesn't feel right."

"I know. Sit tight."

Exiting the car, I took a better look at the property.

This couldn't have been her family's home from Amaterasu, the colony they lived on. No one actually had homes like this anymore. As old-fashioned as this place was, it must've been some kind of fantasy. A mirage, or an illusion. _Someone's_ hopes and dreams had been bundled here, only to burn away like this.

I stepped onto the ashen pavement. Approaching the house, I didn't feel any increase in temperature. None of the smoke clogged my nose or my lungs. Wind and air seemed to blow around me, keeping the flames away in any meaningful way. Enough for me to go up to the front door, finding an inscription of poetry carved into the old wood:

_The town without you is barren with gold:  
Around you go, spinning as lights crossing  
My heart—sink or swim—and never gets old;  
Your immortality is plain, frothing  
At the mouth as wolves do—quiet, lonely;  
Solitude, I found creativity  
Crowned unhidden, without lying from me.  
These mental games show your proclivity  
For greatness above, so unexpected:  
For now, hiding as my artistry did,  
Until your sweet attentions perfected  
My verse to the rays of your sun as mid:  
Unrestrained in love, you need me, your bone—  
Leave your heaven for mine, here for your throne._

These words emblazoned themselves along my eyes, burning each time I blinked.

This definitely…reminded me of her.

Somewhere beyond my view, the reminder brought up old emotions for me. Old feelings. Old restraints and traumas, well-beyond my conscious sense.

I was able to touch the doorknob without burning my hand. I opened the front door to the house.

There indoors, I could see the darkness. In some of the light from the flames, I picked out a few details. Dozens of weapons and thermal clips spread out over the floor. All military-grade. Huge guns—assault rifles, mostly—scattered there in no apparent rhyme or reason. As a collection, as a precaution. They clearly belonged to the owner of this house. No other furniture existed inside. Only those weapons.

I could've walked inside. Investigated some more on my own. Given into this nostalgia for the past.

But then I turned around, looking back to the car. Miranda was still there in the backseat. Gripping her arms around herself. Fearful, anxious, worried. If I left her out here, and something happened, I would never forgive myself. Even if this was _just_ a game.

So I made my way back to the car. Hurrying along for Miranda's sake.

As I went, I saw another possible location in the distance: a tall building that looked like an Alliance base.

Inside the backseat, I sat next to Miranda again. Not having moved at all from her spot, she leaned against me as before, holding my arm in hers. Setting aside the matter of our next destination, I decided to check my omni-tool. The party menu in particular. I needed to find out some more information first.

Miranda watched as I tinkered around here.

Since I was the party leader, my profile showed up first. It showed me in my suit, with Miranda standing next to me just out of focus, with me as the center. My avatar watched Miranda in concern, while she held onto my arm as she did now—standing in the menu instead of sitting in the car. I checked my own stats, not really sure what to make of them. My shields and health were both at a whopping fifty points. I had no weapons except for the omni-blade attachment I'd unlocked earlier. And I had no skills other than the crowd-blending tool I also picked up before. Nothing in my inventory. No credits to spend yet.

The only notable stat I had was my elemental affinity:

_Air as Libra—rises above. Worsens fires and waters. Balances out earth. No weaknesses._

Curious now, I checked Miranda's stats.

Switching over to her, my avatar shifted out of focus this time. With Miranda as the center, she changed her stance, her body language. Letting go of my arm, she opted instead to wrap her hold around herself. Some show of aloofness, of pretending that everything was okay. She kept shifting her eyes from side to side, never meeting my sight directly. Of course I knew better. But I appreciated the reinforcement.

Miranda's barriers and health were at _five thousand_ points. A full hundred times stronger than mine.

She had her signature biotic abilities unlocked: Warp and Slam. And she had access to Overload as usual.

She didn't have any weapons unlocked, but with her biotics, I guessed she didn't need them.

Nothing in her inventory, and no credits, either.

Her elemental affinity…definitely explained her current state of mind:

_Earth as Virgo—reinforces all. Supplements water. Balances out air. Severe weakness to fire._

Biting back her panic, Miranda droned, "God, how wonderful. Of all things…"

"We should get out of here," I suggested, looking at the map. "There's an Alliance base nearby. Looks like it's Kaidan's location. No surprise he's this close to where we are now. Let's go there next."

_"Please."_

My car took off again, this time in the direction of that base.

The more distance we put between us and that burning house, the more Miranda relaxed against me.

I kept holding her close anyway.

We didn't need to say a word. She knew I understood.

As we neared the base, I knew that this wasn't the one in San Diego. Still with the same Alliance blues and silvers, this building felt different. Larger. More expansive. This must've been our main headquarters on Earth, in Vancouver. I'd only been up there a handful of times. But I remembered that Kaidan spent the majority of his treatment at this hospital. So he _would_ have more emotional ties here.

No security awaited us at the entrance. Miranda and I just walked inside—we reached the brightness of the hospital right away, instead of having to make our way through the base first.

These echoing halls held our footsteps as we passed by the open rooms. More transparent people resided within the bed spaces: injured and disabled servicemen and women. I expected to find a few nurses roaming around, at least. Or maybe some of the patients who were well enough to walk around. At most we found a number of patients here and there sitting in chairs throughout the hallways. They all seemed in a good mood, with little smiles on their faces as they checked their omni-tools or chatted with their neighbors. More than that, they seemed at home here. Like this was where they really lived.

Just to check on her, I squeezed Miranda's hand in mine. "Hey. How are you doing?"

Miranda gave a small smile of her own. "I'm all right, Shepard. What about you?"

"I'm fine now that you are. I wanted to make sure you were okay."

"It's sweet of you. Don't worry about me. I'm more interested in what's going on here. Is this the hospital where Kaidan stayed during his treatment and recovery?"

"Should be," I figured. "I've never actually been to this hospital before. Only the base itself."

"Well, how are we supposed to find his room? There are dozens all over."

"I don't know…"

Not too far away, we heard some other sounds of chiming chains.

Chains thicker than the one looped at my side.

Looking around, Miranda and I found the source of those sounds…somewhere near the floor. Near a few smiling patients sitting in the halls, receiving treatment from their…doctor. Their doctor wearing a Red Cross harness. Then, noticing us, the doctor came over this way, determined to meet us properly.

Distinctive features of tall, pointed ears, and a black and tan coat: the doctor was none other than a German shepherd dog. Adult-sized, but a little small, I assumed the dog was female. The silver chain around her neck sounded in-time with her footsteps. She really did have a Red Cross harness over her back, designating her as a doctor. As absurd as that sounded to me, I had to remember that this was Kaidan's dream. Of course not everything would make sense—or even be possible in the real world.

Miranda nearly stepped back once the dog neared us. "Shepard, is that…?"

"Yeah, it is. She's not transparent like everyone else. And she knows we're here. I wonder why."

"Maybe animals are an exception."

"Could be."

Dutiful already, the German shepherd sat down in front of us. She looked up between Miranda and me, her tail wagging in a gentle sort of rhythm. I'd heard that these dogs were more reserved than most, especially when meeting new people. So I was surprised that she'd decided to come up to us like this.

Miranda had the same thought as me: "Do you think she knows us somehow?"

"Probably," I said. The dog wagged her tail some more. "I get the feeling she understands us, too." Taking the chance, I addressed her: "Do you know where Kaidan's room is? Can you take us there?"

Giving a single bark, the German shepherd began leading us down the hall.

Miranda and I exchanged smiles, following after our new guide.

We soon arrived to Kaidan's room. The dog entered the automatic door first. Lying over the bed in his Alliance fatigues, Kaidan looked happy and normal enough. He had the television on along the far wall, watching the Alliance News Network. No injuries or anything to speak of: he was just here chilling out, in this bed while asleep in his actual bed in real life, dreaming a dream.

"Hey there, Doc," greeted Kaidan—the German shepherd went over to a few monitors near the floor, checking on her patient's vitals. He then noticed Miranda with me. "Oh! Hey, Commander. Miranda. Didn't expect to see you two here. You sure look nice. Out on a date in the middle of my dream, huh?"

"Hello, Kaidan," replied Miranda. "You could say we're on a date, yes. We just happened to find you."

"You know this is a dream?" I asked.

Kaidan insisted, "Of course! I've had this same recurring dream for a while now. Always in this place."

"All you do is hang out in this hospital room?"

"Yeah, it's pretty nice. I feel safe here. You know, getting away from the mission and combat. Feels like a vacation compared to all the grueling battlefields. This is the first time I've ever seen you and Miranda around. It's just been me and Doc here. Never thought I'd experience anything new in these things."

Miranda glanced down at Kaidan's doctor. "Well, I suppose there's a first time for everything…"

Kaidan laughed. "Surprised, huh?"

"To put it lightly, yes. Is there any particular reason why your doctor is a German shepherd?"

"No idea, actually. She didn't show up until a short while ago. Remember we were on Tuchanka, and that varren came up to the commander? Ever since I mentioned German shepherds that day, this dog's been here with me as the doctor on-call. Even her assistants are other animals—the head nurse is a St. Bernard! Kinda bizarre, but cute at the same time. Guess I've had dogs on my mind a little too much."

"Hmm, does she have a name?"

"She does. Some of the guys told me her real name is Major. But we're her patients, so we just call her Doc instead. No one pets her or anything. She doesn't seem to like it. Maybe it's sorta condescending, since she has such an important job. Who knows?"

"Major," I repeated.

Ears perking up more, Major wandered over this way. She circled around Miranda and me, brushing her smooth coat and her tail against us a few times. I picked up on her protective intentions.

Kaidan pointed out, "Pretty obvious she likes you two. I've never seen her like this with anyone else."

Miranda wondered, "Is she normally aloof with the other patients?"

"Aloof. Reserved. Almost like we're strangers. Just having her around makes everyone happy, anyway."

Major then went to the door, tail wagging again.

"Looks like it's that time," said Kaidan. "She has to get back to work. We shouldn't keep her."

"We shouldn't keep you, either," I mentioned. "But you're doing all right, aren't you?"

"Sure am. I appreciate the concern, Commander. You and Miranda should get back to your actual date—wherever it's supposed to be. Definitely not in this hospital. Must've lost your way. I'll see you around!"

"Okay, Kaidan. Take care."

Instead of getting back to her shift, Major led us to the hospital's exit.

Miranda speculated, "I don't think we should come back here very often. If Kaidan has recurring dreams—and he's lucid—he could grow suspicious if he sees us too much. I don't want to risk an awkward conversation about what we're really doing in his dream. Or how we arrived in the first place."

"That's true," I agreed. "I'd say it's the same for everyone else. If they keep seeing us over and over again, they might get suspicious, too. We should space out our visits. Be more strategic about them."

"You're right. Then again, I hoped Kaidan would know something about that burning house—if anyone lives there at all. He seems perfectly content here. I doubt he has much information."

"We could've asked him, you know."

"No… I didn't want to bring it up myself. Some part of me doesn't want the mystery to be solved."

At the security-free exit, Major sat down. She whined a little bit, seeming sad that we had to go.

"Sorry, Major," I told her. "Looks like you have to stay here. Your patients need you."

Miranda sighed in regret. "I wish we didn't have to be so cautious about our visits. She's too adorable."

"We'll figure something out."

Contrary to what Kaidan had told us, Major appeared to want our specific attention. She let me bend down to pet her, cheering up some with my touch. At the same time, she was happy to let Miranda scratch behind her ear, and smooth down her coat. Satisfied for the time being, she gave a contented bark before scurrying back down the hall, off to care for everyone else in the ward.

As we returned to the car, I noticed Miranda's mood had lightened much more. Setting aside that mystery from before, her emotions fully settled down. Emotional care from such an unexpected friend had done wonders for her temperament.

* * *

Driving around some more in this dark, we'd marked nearly everyone's locations on the map.

More central to everyone, Dr. Chakwas had her own hospital. Looked like Huerta Memorial on the Citadel. Appropriately, her place wasn't too far from the _Normandy._

Joker's location was the _Normandy_ itself.

Miranda and I were able to board the ship to view his dream. Yet as soon as we did, we wished we hadn't. We found Joker asleep in the cockpit-turned-bedroom. Shirtless, wearing only a loose pair of boxers, he breathed on, dreaming himself asleep like this. All around him, multiple EDI bots were sprawled out on the floor. They all had their legs open in a suggestive position. Each one of them looked used and discarded, their expressions contorted into absurdity, eyes crossed and lulling. And there was something about Joker's breathing that hinted at his true state: how disturbed he was. Bothered, worried, broken—on an emotional level. Something of his issues with intimacy had spelled out here.

Nearby, Wrex's place resembled Tuchanka: that slope of broken stone leading up to his throne. Since he wasn't there, I assumed he was actually awake at this hour. Or sleepwalking, as he used to do years ago.

Miranda reasoned that EDI and Legion wouldn't have anything here. They were synthetics, after all. Our collective unconscious was supposed to be for organics only. Maybe this could change somehow in time.

The only other person remaining was Jack.

We hadn't found anything for her yet.

I also wondered if, on the off-chance, we might've found something for Liara.

There was nothing. Or her place was just that difficult to find, like Jack's location apparently was.

Driving around for what felt like hours, we were about to give up and head back to HQ for the night. Our time was running out: already, the skies had lightened, tinting with the approaching dawn. We had to exit the game before seven in the morning. Miranda warned that we might get stuck here if we weren't able to get out in time. So we couldn't afford to keep wandering around like this.

Miranda sighed. "What a coincidence that she's the most elusive of our teammates."

"Are you really surprised, though?" I asked.

"I suppose not… I'd actually hoped to snoop on her dreams. I want to know what's going on with her."

"I'd tell you to just ask, but knowing Jack, she wouldn't give you a straight answer."

"Yes, precisely. That's why I wanted a more direct avenue to her mind. But this is a bit much."

"Yeah, I know…" I felt hopeful once we drove through the city's red light district—lines of clubs and bars and restaurants packed block after block, with wild, drunken citizens hopping from place to place. I could've sworn I spotted Aria's Afterlife club not too far away. "Wait a minute. Jack likes to party and let loose. Shouldn't her place be somewhere around here?"

"It should be. Now where is it—?"

Just barely, we heard screams of panic from the upcoming street.

My car followed the noise—in the direction of the largest place on the block. Giant, blazing letters spelled out Club Inferno at the very top of the tower rising to the dawn's skies. At the ground level, several civilians ran out the front doors. I worried that this was all part of Jack's dream—as the navigation system had finally marked her name at this club—but that wasn't it. Piercing over those screams, I heard the familiar sounds of particle rifles going off. Clicking languages, and wings buzzing: several Collectors rushed out the building, opening fire on the civilians around, rushing them non-stop.

I blurted out, "What the hell are the Collectors doing here?"

"Jack must be having a nightmare," reasoned Miranda. "I'm not sure if we'll be able to help… There are far too many hostiles. Look at all of them."

"I don't have a weapon, either. This damn omni-blade won't do much."

"I know. I have my biotics, but I don't think it's worth it. Maybe…we should turn around."

My car followed Miranda's suggestion, driving away from the madness of Jack's apparent nightmare.

Frustrated, I looked through the upgrades I hadn't unlocked yet.

"I can't unlock any guns at all. I can only buy them from shops. But I don't have any credits. Everything I can unlock here looks stealth-related. Not for actual combat. How are we supposed to help someone having a nightmare like that?"

"Well, this could be the game incentivizing us to leave. When everything refreshes and reloads for next time, you could find a different story. I understand you're frustrated, Shepard. But this isn't a typical game. It's far more cerebral than the usual reward-based approach. Not everything is as obvious or straight-forward as it could be."

"We can't come back any time soon, though. You said it yourself."

"Unfortunately not. We need to give Kaidan some time to forget seeing us. He'll assume it was a mere coincidence. Since it's almost that time, we should exit the game using our omni-tools. Everything will save automatically. We'll reappear in my bed in real life."

"All right," I said, taking one last look out the window. "Hopefully we'll figure the rest out soon enough."

Miranda soothed me: "We will. You know we will. It's only a matter of time." She pulled my attention back to her, the dawn glimmering over her sight, her skin. "Once we're back in my room, I want you to see how you feel. Depending on how this goes, we could have quite an eventful morning. It's up to you."

Smirking now, I asked, "What are you hinting about, babe?"

Smiling in innocence, Miranda wouldn't say.

I was just about to persuade her to give me a bit more.

Sudden collision against something outside: the car came to a halt, steel grinding as a crash. In this whiplash, I grabbed hold of Miranda, protecting her from this suddenness as best as I could. When everything stopped, we were able to breathe. I checked her over; she seemed okay. Nodding to me, Miranda looked around, the both of us clueless as to what had happened. We got out from the car to investigate.

Smoking in ruin, the front of the car had been completely totaled. This wreckage looked like a full-on collision against something ahead.

Something, or someone.

Just ahead, rising as a field of flames, _someone_ stood there. Menacing before the blaze of the dawn, that armored person wore the cage of their own mind, locked and jailed behind those bars aflame. Burning, standing, living in my mind, she was there, wielding that same M-7 Lancer assault rifle I remembered. Well overhead, several Collectors filled the skies, flying and buzzing and about to descend, coordinated with this heated shock.

Here on the ground, she aimed that gun right at Miranda.

_We both knew exactly who this was._

I stood between them anyway. Shielding Miranda with my own body, as pitifully weak as my shields were in this game.

Miranda couldn't, wouldn't think to attack. And even if she could, the enemy, this boss before us only had to shoot her weapon, sending us to a _game over._

We had no choice but to leave. Cowardly as it felt, there was no other way.

We used our omni-tools to exit the game—dissolving all back to Miranda's bedroom, back to the morning light, and far, far away from danger.


	43. The Justicar

_"Samara" from Mass Effect 2_

**XLIII.** The Justicar

_(Miranda)_

Reappearing in my bedroom like this, I adjusted to the sudden change in perspective. Shifting away from Insomnia's virtual reality to the actual reality of my apartment, I had to take a breather. Breathing just so, yet unable to physically shift—I felt the comfort of Shepard's weight on top of me. We both still had on our clothes from our date the night before—though my shirt was still off, leaving me in the black lace of my bra. Rather thrown as well, Shepard stared down at me. She did her best to not fixate too much. She swelled an even stronger comfort in me, deep within my spirit, simply from the energy of her gaze. That visceral need she had to know that I was all right. Emotionally and more. Pure protection I felt once she shifted her weight, enough to touch my face with her hand.

The heat of her skin warmed my own.

Breathing in the fresh scent of roses that had wafted up to my room, I tried to reassure Shepard that I was just fine. Touching her touch, the back of her hand, the ridges of her knuckles beneath her smooth complexion. I found her sunlit eyes lighting even more in the early morning rays. Lighting in worry, lighting in question, lighting in her vivid attractiveness. Swelling my heart to the size of the sun outside. But even as I did this, already I worked to push to the back of my mind certain memories from that game. Much like with these unknown prospects surrounding my sister, I couldn't bring myself to linger over this issue. I couldn't truly acknowledge how I felt about any of it.

I didn't even want to _think_ about what had happened back there. I just couldn't.

Still focused on me, Shepard asked, "You okay?"

Unable to answer with words yet, I brought her face closer to mine.

Shepard took my gentle momentum and added her own. Brushing her lips against mine, she moved into me more, one movement at a time. This taste of hers forever layered over me as transcendent. As transcendent as she was tender and touching, touching me in the softest of ways, yet still decisive. Still showing the suggestiveness in her thoughts, mirroring over me now. Shepard wasn't at all shy in turning her tenderness into far more. She listened for my reactions as her permission, muting her own to focus on me again and again. I felt my hands moving on their own, needing her so much closer.

She only stopped when she realized she'd started gripping my hips, her hands against my bare skin.

Having her touch on me like this changed so much. I barely realized myself that I had taken off her shirt, leaving on the white of her sleeveless undershirt. Coming to my senses, I reinforced it all, running my hands down the soft cotton shaped over her back. These undulating grooves of texture beneath my fingertips held the deceptive strength of her muscles; the winged sharpness of her shoulder blades as she shifted, settling her light weight over her forearms straightened over the bed, at either side of me.

Barely, just barely, I saw a flicker of doubt flash through her eyes.

I ran my hands through her hair, setting it out the way. I found more of that doubt—she couldn't look at me. Not directly. So I tangled Shepard's hair, gathering this beautiful assortment of her shades of brown and blonde, holding it all along the back of her head. Her furrowed brow, I could see much more clearly with her edges pulled back and tautened just so. For as much as she wouldn't make eye contact with me, I felt my eyes drawn to her neck. The quickness of her pulse, hammering there, nearly knocking through her skin. And how her collar bone had started shuddering with her breaths, steadily unsteady.

Somehow still at peace, it was my turn to ask, "Shepard, are _you_ all right?"

She wouldn't say the words. The obvious. Those emotions softened her eyes, melting her usual intensity to a more tender impression. Impressing upon me, Shepard only gave me this gentleness, mixed with such anxiety and apprehension. Her hesitations nearly boiled over—nearly forced her to look away from me—yet she made the effort to stay present. Present with her heart. Present with me.

Knowing that she'd made this choice to be vulnerable, I felt higher and higher than before.

Love for her deepening, I soothed, "Tell me what you're afraid of. Please. _Tell me everything."_

Shepard still wouldn't say it.

Surely she sensed and felt all that had deepened in me, deepening the depths of her dilemma.

That chasm, I overlooked as I looked up at her.

I let her hair cascade from my hands, shifting down to hold her shoulders now. This strength and control, I felt reflected in her hardened muscles, and even in the fine smoothness of her skin. Her biceps, the bends of her arms as she propped herself on top of me: I found Shepard's command over my body, immovable as she was. Stout and stoic and resplendent, Shepard pulled at me without physically pulling at all. She pushed at me without moving her hands from my bed. She owned me without saying a word.

I found in her emotional distance a marathon to run. And I immediately set off past the starting line.

Immediately, I reached my body up to kiss her. Hoping to encourage her. Hoping to have more from her this morning, as the sun continued to rise over us. As insulated as I was from those rays, sheltered within the curtained falls of Shepard's hair, she gave me more. Shadowing me beneath her, she leaned down just enough, pushing me back down—her lips over mine, into mine, within mine, letting me feel what she wanted me to feel, and nothing more. Only what she allowed. Only what she commanded.

Completely cerebral in her intentions, Shepard made herself clear.

As she did, my heart could have gone off in desperation, begging for more, begging for her attention.

Her attention as she lorded herself over me without lording at all. Lording only as any lord should have, expanding my scope of thought, my very imagination. I begged more while saying nothing, only sounding more for her attention—her attention she gave me as she wanted. Her attention she chose to curate, to remind me who was truly in charge between us. Her attention that I basked in and bathed in and breathed in as my single breather, breathing in this life from her again and again.

All just as she pulled away.

Shepard pulled away just enough—enough to leave me shaking beneath her. Shaking as she stared at me, studying. Finding my openness to her, exposed as I was. Cutting through me more with her purposeful distance, instrumental in her mind, using this instrument of her eyes to shape me as she desired. And I lay here before her, as the image of _her_ imagination, imposed upon me so lovingly.

Imposed and imposing as she was, I felt how my regard of her had shifted. _Changed._

Laser-focused. Loving, loving, loving. Yet still entirely relaxed. Leisurely in my spirit laboring for her.

"Are you hungry, Miranda?"

Light and languorous as my gaze, I managed to say, "Not at all."

"We have business to take care of today," she established.

"Yes, of course we do… But not until much later. Why do you sound as if you're going to head off?"

"If I do anything more to you, we won't leave this bed."

As high as I felt, I was _this close_ to asking how that was a problem.

Shepard noticed, and raised her brow. Shaped, strong, slender. She could've taken me with that alone.

Yet I realized how inappropriate my timing was now.

Waking up somewhat, I told her, "Well, if you don't trust yourself, I'll just have to accept your judgment. I only wonder if you're using this as an excuse to run from me. Even after everything we talked about."

"I'm not running from you."

"Are you certain about that? Did something in Insomnia trigger this change?"

"More like the opposite. Before we take that next step, there's something I have to show you."

"Hmm, what do you mean?"

Shepard decided: "After we pick up Samara and Thane, we'll go back to San Diego. Unless the Council needs to speak with us before then. I have a feeling they will. I'm sure I'll get an email from Anderson sometime soon. Either way, this something is in my hometown. You'll see when we get there."

"If you insist…"

"You sound disappointed."

"Because I know you're going back to the ship at any moment now."

"I should," she justified. "Whenever Vasir sends you that intel on Samara, I need you to forward it to me ASAP. The same goes for Shiala's availability. Can I count on you?"

"Of course you can," I promised. "You already know that…"

"Miranda."

 _"I know._ I know, Shepard. I know… You need to be prepared to lead us properly. You can't do that if you spend all morning fooling around with me. I understand. This isn't what I hoped for, that's all."

"Then what did you hope for, exactly?"

I nearly scoffed. "Do you _really_ have to ask?"

Shepard shifted her eyes, at once annoyed and pleased by me. Annoyed with my attitude; pleased that I had deigned to be this honest with her. But there was another sort of pleasure mixed in there. Pleased as she was that her mind was her own. No matter what I had witnessed, and no matter what I could guess, her current thoughts would forever be unknown to me. That minor secrecy gave her comfort.

She then chose to compromise instead:

"Listen. I'll stay here with you for a little while longer. But after that, I have to get going. Is that okay?"

"Yes…that's fine," I conceded. "Thank you."

Shepard let herself rest over me. I held her close without stifling. As much as I could. Savoring her, savoring the sheen of her hair and the undulations of her back, her shoulders—I needed her so much.

Gentler this time, she asked again, "So what did you hope for?"

"…that you would be more emotional. Sensitive. Open. Even passionate. While you had sex with me."

"It's going to take some time, babe. I didn't realize this before. I'm sorry."

"I respect your choice, Shepard. There's no need for you to apologize."

I truly did accept her assessment.

But those words from her soured me with regret.

I wished I'd had the courage to approach Shepard sooner.

Maybe by now we could have been somewhat even. Balanced. Measured.

Maybe she wouldn't have still been playing catch-up with my obsessive devotion for her.

* * *

The rest of the morning, I spent lying in bed. Alone, still down to my bra. Fantasizing. Smelling the vestiges of Shepard's cologne that had filled my sheets, my pillows. Missing her terribly, terribly so.

I'd already put in my designated time off with the Illusive Man. No work assigned to me; nothing to occupy my time with. At least until the mission later, which I presumed we would get to sometime this evening. For a long while, I considered speaking with my boss. Perhaps sending him an email for some sort of clarification. After this time had passed, I began questioning the source of our strife. Surely I wanted things between us to go back to normal. I wanted us to have our working relationship again—the same one that had sustained us both for nearly two decades now. Even as I should have continued questioning his motives, I instead gave him the benefit of the doubt. Predictably so, as he knew I would.

I couldn't bring myself to reconsider the past. My own judgments. The extent to which I trusted the Illusive Man to be upfront with me. Maybe this was all a simple misunderstanding…

Or that was what _I wanted_ to believe.

As the sun continued to rise outside my windows, I'd shifted my mind to other topics. Since calling Shepard was out of the question, I thought about my sister. Our ridiculous 'encounter' at the mall yesterday continued to linger, worrying me. She'd obviously known about me for quite some time already. Whatever traps Shepard had fallen into with Oriana's mischievous wiles, she hadn't necessarily given away some big secret. Then again, if my sister really was as smart as I was, I shouldn't have been surprised. She had every reason to know who I was in that case. Why hadn't she contacted me, then?

I resisted the urge to monitor my sister through the usual surveillance.

Even as I avoided these hard topics with the Illusive Man, I couldn't do the same with Oriana.

Perhaps as a reward for my choices, I received two conveniently-timed emails.

Opening my omni-tool, I felt relieved to have these confirmations:

_From: Shiala – Re: Meeting up on Illium._

_Miranda,_

_I apologize for the continued delays. Thankfully, I have good news this time._

_Tomorrow, I will at last be available to meet with you and the commander. I have looked over the materials you forwarded to me on the Reapers and indoctrination. Your discoveries mirror my own. I hope that I will be able to provide additional insight. Commander Shepard's role against the Reapers will no doubt be critical to our very survival. I would be happy to confirm that you are in fact her protector._

_Please let me know if and when you would like us to speak tomorrow. Your patience is appreciated._

_-Shiala_

.

_From: Vasir, Tela – Re: Justicar Samara._

_Lawson,_

_Here's that update I promised you. A little ahead of schedule. And for good reason. You and Commander Shepard will want to be prepared for this._

_To start off, some background: a not-insignificant number of Illium's indentured servants have gone missing within the past few months. Sadly, no one seems to care. Because the story's gone under the radar, I hadn't been able to make much headway. I believe the same ardat-yakshi suspect from the other night is to blame for this. She's taking advantage of the fact that no one cares, preying on these servants for her own amusement. Every single time I've managed to locate a victim, the cause of death is the same. Severe brain hemorrhages. Overpowered nervous systems. You can assume the rest._

_I was able to pinpoint a location for the suspect's lair. The latest victim was lured there last night. Fortunately, the victim called for help in time. She was able to get away safely and make a report to us._

_Unfortunately, it looks like the ardat-yakshi slipped away. A few Eclipse sisters smuggled her off-world. The good news is, she left a great deal of evidence behind in her room. The bad news is, the Eclipse mercs are keeping a close watch on this room, blocking off everyone's access, including the police. You'll have to find a way inside, locate any possible clues on her current location, and get out before causing too much trouble. If I go with you, the mercs might catch on to your plans. So I'll have to sit this one out. It would be nice if you could find some way to get the police inside the building. If not, I'm sure you and the commander will handle this as necessary._

_Samara will be at the suspect's lair tonight, looking for information. It's an "underground" club called Deep Azure, right in the middle of Eclipse territory. Sex, BDSM, exhibitionism. Not exactly family-friendly. They open at 8:00pm. The justicar will be there on time. She'll know to expect you and your team._

_I'll meet you in-person tomorrow to help with the drell assassin. I doubt you'll need me to come along with you. But, I'll at least make sure you reach the Dantius Towers unharmed._

_-Vasir_

.

After re-reading the emails a few times, I forwarded them to Shepard directly.

I could have called her, of course. Or sent her a few messages in our chat room, providing the information that way. I chose not to take the risk. Even after Shepard promptly responded to me, giving her thanks—I felt my heart pounding, raw and real. I continued resisting these temptations. I continued putting her first. Needing to be patient, needing to accept these changes: we couldn't rush this. I couldn't push her into moving any faster with me. I realized now it had been naïve of me, assuming that Shepard would be completely tender and vulnerable. At least this soon. Later, _yes,_ certainly. In due time.

Shepard chose not to run away. Now she merely stood in place before me, holding her emotions in.

I supposed that was a start.

Finding my own optimism, pointed and pragmatic, I turned to other distractions. I sent Jack a private message, asking if she still wanted to see me. She was rather quick to respond, saying she wished to meet up at Eternity. We hadn't interacted at all, the last time we were there, so this seemed the best way to make up for that. We agreed to meet there in a few hours once they opened for the day.

By the time those hours did pass, and by the time I put my Cerberus uniform back on, this time had afforded me few favors.

I continued resisting these powerful urges—to contact Shepard despite her obvious wish for distance; to make sure that we were all right. We, us, together. Pressing on my mind as I made my way to Eternity, our relationship stayed at the forefront. I didn't at all see this as Shepard _leaving me alone._ But the circumstances of her change of heart had me slipping into something. Worries and worries and worries nearly brought me down. The mission was supposed to come first. My personal feelings came too close to compromising that.

This balancing act proved more difficult than I'd expected.

I arrived to Eternity a bit earlier than Jack had requested. At this time of day, the music and ambiance took up more space than the actual people around. I could relax a bit without anyone staring at me.

Sitting alone at one of the couches, facing a window, I couldn't humor the idea of having a drink. I instead spent the time sending an announcement to the team, letting them know of recent developments, and to expect a briefing sometime this evening. But as soon as I hit send, I felt my feelings about to catch up to me. My truest longings to have Shepard here with me. The closest I could get to this was tabbing over to our private chat room.

Again, I contemplated sending her a message. At least to check up on her.

Surprising me in a wonderful way, heart fluttering with joy—Shepard was already ahead of me:

_[15:36:02] Shepard: Babe._

_[15:36:07] Me: Yes?_

_[15:36:22] Shepard: You good?_

_[15:36:31] Me: I'm quite all right. What about you?_

_[15:36:55] Shepard: I'm fine. Just wanted to check up on you._

_[15:37:12] Me: Really, Shepard? Is that all you wanted from me?_

_[15:37:30] Shepard: I think you know the answer to that._

_[15:37:45] Me: I'm afraid I don't. Care to enlighten me?_

_[15:38:20] Shepard: Where are you right now?_

_[15:38:56] Me: I'm at Eternity, waiting for Jack to show up. She's supposed to meet me here. I suspect Zaeed will also make an appearance. You didn't answer my question._

_[15:40:11] Shepard: I want to know why Jack's interested in being your friend._

_[15:40:59] Me: I'll allow this extra sidestep of yours, then. I believe Jack has many reasons. She's nosey about our business together, you and I. Maybe she also sees something valuable in the perspective I offer. I don't think her motives are entirely innocent. But I'm not worried about her. She is who she is._

_[15:41:13] Shepard: That makes sense._

_[15:41:23] Me: It sounds as if you don't trust her._

_[15:41:50] Shepard: It's hard for me to trust anyone other than you._

_[15:42:44] Me: Are you not interested in building trust with the team? No matter what happened with Tali, I thought you at least trusted her. Perhaps Garrus and Kaidan as well, since they've been around for so long. Joker included._

_[15:43:22] Shepard: Tali did something to lose my trust._

_[15:44:00] Me: What did she do?_

_[15:45:02] Shepard: She poked her nose where it didn't belong. In my personal space. Way beyond my personal space, actually. I think you know exactly what I mean._

_[15:45:36] Me: Yes…I do._

_[15:45:59] Shepard: Is that how the Illusive Man got to you? Did he bring this up?_

_[15:48:01] Shepard: Miranda, answer me._

_[15:48:20] Me: I'm sorry. Yes. He showed me proof._

_[15:48:47] Shepard: Send it to me._

_[15:49:32] Me: I will. I promise you, I will. Before I do that, I have to know. What we saw in that game last night—did something in there trigger your anger? This is such a drastic change from before._

_[15:50:03] Shepard: Maybe so. But that isn't the real issue._

_[15:50:22] Me: Then what is the real issue? What's truly bothering you? Please, tell me._

_[15:51:20] Shepard: When we first met. While we were on the shuttle to Freedom's Progress. You said something to me. Something important. I remembered your words this morning, while I was on top of you in bed. And I realized they might not have been true._

_[15:51:40] Me: What do you mean…? What did I say?_

_[15:51:58] Shepard: You said you couldn't lie to me. That you were incapable of doing it._

_[15:52:06] Me: Shepard, wait a moment._

_[15:52:20] Shepard: Lying by omission still counts._

_[15:52:34] Me: Shepard, please, we shouldn't do this over text._

_[15:53:42] Shepard: Miranda, I set that shit aside before. I moved past it. I asked you to be with me. Maybe something in Insomnia triggered this. If it did, it doesn't matter. I can't just let this go._

_[15:54:20] Me: You're entitled to feel this way. I'm not trying to argue against that. I want to know everything. I want to know what's running through your mind. Even if your words end up hurting me._

_[15:55:05] Shepard: I don't want to hurt you._

_[15:56:37] Me: And I don't want you to worry about that. Isn't it more important for us to be honest? We promised each other before that we would. I gave you my word. I went back on what I told you. I'm sorry for that. I didn't realize it would still be a problem—not after we talked about it the other day. We don't have enough trust built up. Not for sex; not for anything outside of the mission. I understand that now._

_[15:57:02] Shepard: That's not the only problem here._

_[15:57:20] Me: What's the rest of it? I have to know._

_[15:58:12] Shepard: The way the Illusive Man influenced you. No one should have enough power to do that. No one except me. Especially not him, or your father. Not anyone. I won't tolerate it._

_[15:58:45] Me: Understood. You're perfectly clear._

_[15:59:13] Shepard: Why are you going along with this? Why aren't you fighting against me?_

_[15:59:36] Me: Your sense of justice is sound. I'd never fight against that._

_[16:00:12] Shepard: That can't be the only reason._

_[16:00:27] Me: You own me. I belong to you. I am your property. I need to be worthy of you._

_[16:00:58] Shepard: Are you just saying that to placate me?_

_[16:01:10] Me: Absolutely not. I mean every word of it._

_[16:01:20] Shepard: I believe you._

_[16:01:35] Me: Do you, really?_

_[16:02:02] Shepard: You're too smart to lie about this._

_[16:02:50] Me: Even so, I want to make amends for what I've done. I'll send you the proof from the Illusive Man straightaway. We should speak after that. In-person. Are you back on the Normandy?_

_[16:04:02] Shepard: I'm in my cabin. I thought you planned on spending time with Jack. Maybe Zaeed._

_[16:04:23] Me: They're irrelevant right now. I have to see you. Immediately. Please, Shepard._

_[16:05:04] Shepard: Fine. Send over what you have._

_[16:05:17] Me: Sending it now. I'm on my way._

I forwarded those chat logs to Shepard without delay.

Not long after I hit send, I saw the change at the bottom of the message. She'd opened and read the email within seconds. And now time began ticking down. I needed to go to her. Right this second.

Yet as soon as I stood up, I ran into a roadblock.

Blocking my way—I nearly bumped into Zaeed, who almost stumbled back against Jack behind him.

"Jesus Christ, Lawson!" blurted Zaeed. "Where're you rushing off all of a sudden? What's going on?!"

Jack pressed me, "Seriously, what's up with you? You're acting like someone fucking died!"

I didn't owe them a real explanation. "Don't be ridiculous. Something urgent just came up. I have to go."

Pushing past them, I hurried out of Eternity. I knew Jack and Zaeed watched me go, reeling in my wake, yet they were wise enough not to follow after me. Alone I rushed back down to Nos Astra's trading floor. Knowing I'd attracted more stares and attention, I weaved my way through the crowds of haggling customers and dubious dealers. Singularly focused on this task, on moving this quickly in my heels—I forced myself to move as fast as I could. Quickly, faster, back to the docks where the _Normandy_ awaited.

Where Shepard awaited me, soon to render her judgment. Whatever she decided, I was prepared to accept the outcome. _Proudly._ I needed to take responsibility for my mistakes.

Nothing was off the table in my submission to her will.

* * *

Arriving to the _Normandy,_ I realized the embarrassing reason behind my speed.

Confusing, arousing—Shepard's clear authority had me wet. This spread between my legs beneath my uniform…I'd felt it so many times before. Never quite like this. The tightness of it all made the sensation unforgettable. Inescapable. As tight as I was; as welcoming and inviting and needing as I was, waiting for her and _waiting for her_ to take me. That closeness from her felt as the surest reward for my efforts. My efforts in working on our relationship; my efforts in being worthy of her; my efforts in not making any further mistakes that could have cost us everything.

Time wasn't enough.

I had to put in the work. I had to be dutiful about this. We both did.

This taste, this tenseness, this taut strife felt as an odd release. A reminder of where and when I was. A reinforcement that the two of us were in fact in a relationship, in the middle of a proper argument, yet with no real threat of breaking up. No matter how this seemed, I trusted Shepard to work with me through anything. That trust continued to propel me faster, quickening my long strides down the bridge.

Delayed, I caught wind of Joker sitting alone at the helm. He'd appeared caught up in his thoughts—until I'd burst my way through the airlock. Snapping back to reality, he hurried to hobble out of his seat.

Alarmed, Joker called after me, "Hey, Miranda, where's the fire?!"

That was _not_ a helpful metaphor right now.

Ignoring him, I made my way through the empty CIC, and over to the elevator.

I requested permission to go up to the captain's quarters.

Immediately afterward, the elevator shifted with Shepard's authorization, taking me up one level.

Hands sweating beneath my gloves, I waited this forever-short-forever time. The machinery of the elevator. The slight chill from the ship's internal cooling systems, marking this heat that kept spreading between me. All of it spelled out this waiting, waiting, waiting—until the ride stopped accordingly.

Leaving the elevator, I crossed the short distance to Shepard's door.

Unlocked already. That green light greeted me in such an unexpected welcome.

Even if I wanted to knock—just to be polite—it would have been a waste.

As I walked toward the door, it opened automatically. Automatically, categorically, I passed through to this familiar novelty of Shepard's room. I had been in here before. Setting up the painstaking details everywhere. Recreating the layout from her quarters aboard the SR-1, accurately so. Stocking her mini-refrigerator with her water and wines. Ensuring that she had this calm, quiet space to call home.

Brimming with an ambient comfort, the blue of Shepard's fish tank lit my path. The blacklight from elsewhere in the room dimmed my perception. Lowering my guard more, lowering my ego far more so, I kept my head down. Even still, I found Shepard within my periphery. Standing just down the short flight of steps between her fish tank and desk. Right next to this half of her couch, leather running parallel along the lowered wall. Standing there, rightly still; watching and waiting as I approached her.

Shepard allowed some space between her stature and the low couch.

If I continued to stand, I wasn't sure if my balance would hold me.

Mouth and throat parched, I asked, "May I sit?"

Measured, collected—Shepard gestured to the couch.

Sitting down beneath her, facing her bed along the opposite wall: I felt the full shame of these circumstances. The first time she allowed me into her room, and it was for _this._ I didn't enjoy the occasion, and I didn't enjoy the associations. But I needed to face her, at least this much. Running away was never an option.

"Miranda," stated Shepard, nearly melting me. "I'm not trying to be a jackass with this. We need to have a real discussion. What we talked about before—it wasn't enough. This has to be more thorough."

"I agree," I said, unsticking my throat. "We should discuss everything. Whatever's necessary."

As Shepard prepared to lead our talk, I thought I knew how this would go.

I assumed she would ask me about the chat logs. About how the Illusive Man had acquired them. About how foolish I had been to let him manipulate me in the first place. And how I should've told her sooner.

Instead, Shepard gave me the shock of my life—"There's a reason why I trusted EDI enough to unshackle her."

Waves of understanding washed over me, flooding.

Holding myself around my waist, I almost doubled over from where I sat.

She answered _so many_ of my questions with only a few words.

Kneeling down now, level with my bending body, Shepard asked, "Are you mad at me?"

"Not at all… This is your ship. Your operation. You're entitled to everything and everyone aboard."

"You don't seem surprised."

Sighing, I admitted, "Well, I suspected something. You're unusually clairvoyant. This explains why."

Shepard noticed, "You're making exceptions for me. Sounds like a double-standard, isn't it?"

"You're allowed to do as you please. Especially after the mistakes I've made. I'm the one at fault here."

"Your mistakes aren't the end of the world."

Hearing that from her assuaged me…somewhat.

I'd spent my entire life believing my every mistake was a sin. Heinous. Heretical.

And now here was Shepard, smoothing her warm hand along my face. Trying to get me out of hiding.

"Babe, listen," she soothed. "More than anyone, you understand where I'm coming from with this. I've kept my own secrets from you. I'm sorry for that. I was a hypocrite for almost losing my temper earlier. I think…we both need to let go of those bad habits. Those instincts we have. Never really trusting anyone. Going at it alone. For survival. You don't need to _survive_ from me. The same is true on my end with you."

"I know," I accepted. "I know… I'm setting all that aside. It's only gotten in the way of things. I can't help but wonder—how you knew. How did you verify Tali's knowledge without the logs? She didn't _tell you."_

Shepard chose to be frank with me: "Tali let a few things slip here and there. Nothing major. Nothing that made me suspect anything concrete. Now that I think about it, she gave it away not that long ago. When I went to visit her home on the Flotilla. Like I said, we didn't have sex. I kissed her. That's all."

I remembered the sight of Tali's unmasked face, staring back at me through that mirror in Insomnia.

If they'd had sex, then her entire body would have been visible instead. Unhidden by her enviro-suit.

Oddly enough, having this confirmation bothered me not at all. I felt…relieved, actually.

Relieved that another woman could know Shepard's mind this intimately, yet hold no sway over her.

Leaning into her touch some more, I asked, "Does she know that you're aware?"

"No, I didn't mention it. I really shouldn't. It doesn't matter anymore. That ship has long-since sailed."

"I'm glad you told me," I shared. "The discussion we had before wasn't quite like this. Even though I was determined to face you, I still felt terrified. I remember what happened the last time someone lied to you. I was petrified of making a similar mistake. But you've made exceptions for me as well. Why?"

"Babe, you know why…"

_"I need you to say the words."_

"I don't know how anymore."

Those specific words should have broken me.

Partly because I was the same. Just—not _anymore._ For the first time.

Until I fell for her, I'd had no understanding of what this feeling was. This sacrifice. This commitment.

Not a simple emotion, but continuous actions. Over and over again, despite everything and anything.

Those actions, and that feeling, Shepard gave to me through example. She guided me to move with her, lying down over her as she lay on the couch. Considerate as always, she had a snug blanket here already—violet, for me—covering our bodies with it. Resting this way, I kept my head over her chest, listening. Listening to Shepard breathe. Calming herself. Containing herself. Configuring her reactions and her emotions to suit the moment, not in a forced way, but as that continuous sacrifice…for me.

Shepard's heartbeat beneath my ear may as well have been my own.

As she stroked my back up to my shoulders, and down again, she eased the surprise from her next observation—"Why did you take down those picture frames from your wall? In your apartment."

There was no hiding from her.

"I didn't want you to think I was obsessed with you…"

No malice at all as she pointed out the obvious: "But you are."

I wasn't sure what to say to that.

"Miranda, you don't have to run away from this. We both have some more growing to do. Growing away from our pasts, and into our present and future together. That means unlearning old habits. I'm not saying it's going to be easy. I'm only asking for one thing. Don't ever look me in my face and _lie."_

"I understand, Shepard… Really, I do. I'm happy that you've chosen this path with me. That you've made these choices for us, our relationship. Do you honestly think it's possible for the two of us to change?"

"We are who we are. People don't change."

That unexpected bluntness nearly stymied me.

I questioned her, "Then why do you seem so optimistic about us?"

"Because I'm not asking you to change who you are. Only your choices with _me._ Nothing else."

"You truly don't believe anyone is capable of changing for the better?"

Nonchalant, Shepard claimed, "They just get better at hiding who they are when it's convenient."

I shifted to look at her properly, finding cynicism and optimism blended as all-gold in her eyes. Drilling her point home, I received an ill-timed alert to my omni-tool. Another email from someone. _Someone_ who had used a new email address to reach me this time.

Knowing, tranquil, Shepard asked, "Who's it from?"

"…you already know the answer to that."

"Open it, then. See what he has to say. And then I want you to think carefully about what I said today."

Wary of her advice, I read this message with a heavy heart:

_From: Lawson, Henry – Your sister._

_Miranda,_

_I heard about your run-in with Oriana yesterday. Reports say you and Commander Shepard were humorously caught off-guard. Had you responded to my last email instead of blocking me, I would have warned you about her._

_Your sister knows about you. She's incredibly social media-savvy. Eternally plugged-in to the extranet. There are a number of stories out there about you and your ties to Cerberus, though nothing of substance. I've also worked behind-the-scenes to catch and kill any particularly salacious stories about your previous private business. The remaining information is only public knowledge, but Oriana has consumed it all. She's as smart and clever as you are. You really shouldn't have been surprised._

_I wish you would let us speak, you and I. I've made too many mistakes over the years. Losing you was my worst one. Though I suppose it wasn't a mistake when you took Oriana from me. I know why you did it; I can no longer fault you for your decision. Your sister appears to be living a normal, happy life. The kind of life I couldn't give her, if your upbringing is any indication. So, should the mood strike you, I would appreciate if you returned this message. And if you don't, then I will just have to keep trying._

_-Your father_

Even though he refused to apologize directly, I had to concede some effort on his part. He certainly _sounded_ more…sincere. If that was possible, for him. But that was all I allowed myself to recognize.

Shepard had already made herself clear.

She refused to tolerate my possible tolerance of my father. She saw exactly how naïve I could be.

Nevertheless, he would keep trying until I responded to him.

I worried that he would rope my sister into this. As leverage. Or perhaps he wouldn't.

That was too obvious, after all.

Surely, my father would find some other way to get my attention.

Between him and the Illusive Man, I feared what I'd gotten myself into with these men. These two, powerful men who were determined to maintain some hold over me. To varying degrees. I had no idea how to proceed, and so I set the issue aside. Whenever this reached a boiling point, I would need to lean on Shepard's wisdom for guidance. Because I couldn't do this alone. She knew this, and I felt her determination to shelter me, here and now—until this colossal problem became too much to ignore.

* * *

Presumably, Shepard had been productive during our hours apart earlier that day. Because she allowed me to stay with her until the briefing. We remained in her room, in the same position, in the same place of healing and growing closer, as we both needed. She continued to baby me the whole time: comforting me, and feeding me, and ensuring I had plenty of water to drink before the mission. Even with her dulled cynicism blanketing her thoughts. Yet I couldn't mind that at all.

At the appropriate time, I went down to the comm room on my own. Continuing this tradition of the two of us arriving at staggered times. Shepard's goodbye kiss stayed fresh on my lips and on my mind; I made my way down the elevator, renewed and reinvigorated. As much as I could have been, what with everything that remained on the horizon. I could focus on the mission, anyway. That was what mattered most now.

I entered to the mild bustle of the comm room. Ignoring everyone's conversations—dimmed now that I was here—I took my place near the head of the table. Across from me, Legion gave me an entirely muted stare, unemotional as it always was, and should have been. I wouldn't look anywhere near it, instead keeping my stare fixed on a corner of the room. Even as I kept my arms folded, in this clear desire to be left alone, I felt too many other eyes on me. In particular, Jack frowned at me in a disapproving sort of worry. Zaeed did the same. I still wouldn't look at them, either. My affairs were none of their business.

Elsewhere at the table, Garrus, Kaidan, and Mordin were most careful to _not_ look my way. Their efforts were far too obvious. Clearly, Zaeed and Jack—and perhaps Joker as well—had gossiped about my rush to get back to the _Normandy_ earlier. Kasumi seemed intrigued, a curious smirk shadowed beneath her hood, polite as she was to not stare straight at me. EDI was the same, smiling in a more casual sense.

Tali remained unreadable. I felt jealous of her relative anonymity behind her mask. And I felt her own envy wafting toward me—for obvious reasons—even as she refused to look my way. Whatever the case, she seemed determined to disappear into herself right about now.

I did find this whole dynamic intriguing.

Everyone's mood was completely dependent on mine; on Shepard's; on our harmony, together.

She and I both knew we would be just fine.

The others could continue wondering on their own.

As the culmination of their wondering, they all quieted down once the door opened.

Soundless in her all-black stealth suit, Shepard entered the comm room. Indecipherable as always, the team could only look on as she crossed the area. Taking her spot at the head of the table, she made the point of only making eye contact with me. I warmed my gaze, thawing this ice for her and her alone. Shepard did the same for me. This one thing moderated the temperature among the team, their worries and curiosities sated enough—for the time being, anyway. I knew they would continue to gossip later.

So long as they kept their salacious stories out of the main chat room, the rest didn't matter to me.

Equally as unconcerned about the team's social life, Shepard began the briefing:

"Shore leave's over for the time being. We're picking up our newest recruit tonight. She's a powerful asari justicar named Samara. In case you're unfamiliar, justicars are warriors, part of an ancient order with a strict honor code. They typically don't leave asari space. Samara's chasing after a dangerous fugitive who was last seen on Illium. We're going to help Samara find clues about this fugitive's next location. After that, she should be willing to join our fight against the Collectors.

"Samara will be at the fugitive's last known location: a particular club guarded by Eclipse. The mercs won't let us in with our weapons. And I don't plan on using force to help Samara with her objective. We have to remember that a number of civilians will be at this club. We can't go in guns blazing. We need to be subtle about this. In the event the mercs do put up a fight, I need people who can fight without weapons. That's the shortlist for who I'd like to come along. But only if you're comfortable going."

Kaidan raised his hand, asking, "What do you mean, _if we're comfortable?_ It's just a normal club, right?"

Garrus chimed in, "Is it like Chora's Den or something? Reminds me of our earliest days back on the Citadel, running and gunning against Saren's agents. Pretty nostalgic."

Shepard paused.

I folded my arms tighter, wondering how she would explain this to the team. They appeared to know very little about Illium's sex entertainment industry—just how vast and sprawling it was.

They would learn soon enough.

After a short while, Shepard came right out and said it:

"It's a BDSM club. Deep Azure. People will be having sex and playing with each other. Out in the open."

Kaidan's entire face paled considerably.

Zaeed let out the most absurd bunch of coughs, masking his sudden, uncomfortable laughter.

Jack smirked with a sadistic glee, rubbing her hands together in excitement.

Garrus made his best attempt at dissolving into the nearest wall.

Even Legion shifted its head flaps in a clear sign of alarm. Whatever that entailed for a synthetic.

Mordin tried to contain his amusement and intrigue, though he wasn't successful. Kasumi certainly gave him a run for his money, as amused as she _always_ was, about all things. EDI rounded the trio of them.

Aside from me, Tali was the only one to give no reaction whatsoever. No visible reaction, anyway.

Shepard was wise enough to note, "Judging by your reactions, we have our volunteers who fit the criteria. Miranda, Jack—you ready to go?"

Jack made a victory fist. "Hell yes!"

Already knowing how this would go, I remained neutral for the mission. "Affirmative."

"Samara will be at the club waiting for us. We'll meet up with her; find out what she knows. Then, I'll find a way to sneak through the club and get what we need. The two of you and Samara will remain on standby. If the mercs cause any problems, you have permission to deal with them. We'll get out as soon as I find those clues about the fugitive's next location. Again, we're not bringing any weapons. That includes sidearms. So let's skip the armory and head out."

As we left the _Normandy_ together, Shepard remained consistent with me. Even after our argument earlier, and even with Jack's persistent staring, she still made sure to hold my hand. Nightfall had also brought out Nos Astra's truest colors, sprawling with a sophisticated, festive sort of mood. The three of us passed through that mood, passing by a number of passers-by, each on their way to whatever parties were on that evening.

As I had never been to this part of Nos Astra, I allowed Shepard to lead the way to our destination. In this area of the city, that teeming sense of partying and jubilation reached a fever pitch. A red light district in its own right, this place had just about every type of club or bar around. Everything became less vanilla as we went along—the crowds of asari and humans progressively had on more leather, more belts and buckles, and more fishnet clothing, as those more obvious signs of this lifestyle. I half-expected to witness some form of public exhibition—here outside the club—but no one had taken the chance.

Deep Azure itself looked exactly as I'd imagined. Rising higher in the sky than Aria's Afterlife club, this tower of deep blue glimmered just right in the moonlight. With so many other clubs around, their music and sound systems all competed for attention, each as a joined cacophony of booms and beats at their own rhythms. As we approached Deep Azure in particular, this hard texture of industrial, synthy rock stood out much more. That hardness closed around us as we took our place in line.

By the time Shepard, Jack and I were due to enter past the Eclipse bouncers, someone had started a scene. Some loitering volus had begun ranting at the bouncers for no apparent reason, his pressure suit's inhalation sounds puncturing every handful of his words. Annoyed, Shepard and I waited for this nonsense to resolve itself, while Jack simply looked on in enjoyment. The bouncers tried unsuccessfully to shoo the volus off, growing more irritated. So this nonsense went on and on.

While trying to walk around, the volus bumped into Shepard's legs, barely reaching her knee as he did. Staggering and bouncing backward, he nearly fell over, like a turtle rolling over on its shell. The people in line behind us began to laugh. Shepard glared at the volus, clearly wishing he would get lost. But he refused to go.

"I am a biotic god!" cried the volus, his pitiful biotics glowing around his limbs. "I think things—and they happen! Fear me, lesser creatures, for I am biotics made flesh!"

Shepard warned, "I don't know what drugs you're on, but stay back and I won't punt you out of here."

The volus fired back, "You will regret your scandalous words! I am a great wind that will sweep before me, like a…great wind. A great biotic wind!" God, I couldn't believe this. "Yes, the asari injecting so many drugs into me was terrifying. But then I began to smell my greatness! They may laugh when I fall over, but they don't know what I know in my head—that I know that I am amazingly powerful. Fear me!"

Jack shrugged, almost feeling sorry for him.

Unamused, Shepard merely told the volus, "Good luck with…everything."

"Wait, Earth-clan!" said the addict. "You're just in time to witness my crowning achievement! The leader of the mercenaries is in this club. I shall toss Wasea about like a ragdoll!"

I interjected, "Shepard, having this incapacitated volus running around could compromise us."

Jack quipped, "Fifteen credits says the little guy doesn't get five steps in before the merc explodes him."

The lunatic went on and on—"I will tear her apart! My biotics are unstoppable!"

"Charge," droned Shepard, gesturing for him to run off already.

"An ill wind blows upon Wasea, Captain of the Eclipse sisters! After me!"

He was about to attempt hobbling inside the club, as his way of forcing himself through—to _charge._

But then, the club's manager—an asari civilian—hurried outside.

Sensing the tension brewing in the air, she said forcefully, "Sir, I'm going to have to ask you to leave."

While the manager wrangled verbally with the volus, the Eclipse bouncers allowed us to go inside.

I'd had enough of that ridiculous volus to last a lifetime.

As modern and upscale as Deep Azure was—much like the rest of Illium's buildings—I noticed a stark difference. The club's patrons paraded around this open area, the place exuding a more indie, underground type of grit. The all-black walls thudded with the beat of the bass, with several sex toys and kink equipment hanging along that black in display: whips and floggers, spare collars, paddle boards, gag bits, blindfolds and more. Partying hard, no-holds-barred: the humans and asari mingled and laughed and danced in this mezzanine. The handful of people standing around had gravitated toward the St. Andrews Crosses parked along the walls, those black symbols standing out in form and function.

Shepard had us go downstairs, where the grit of the club truly was, the music somehow booming louder.

Out in these spaces, a number of couples and threesomes and more had spread out into their respective areas. Consensual sex acts on display, the dominants led their submissives through play. The bare blues and violets of asari skin, and the ranging tones of human complexions caught my gaze—covered as many were with varying amounts of leather, or lace, or biotic bondage wrapping around their bodies. Simple fucking with other eyes casually watching them; light impact play with bare hands, paddle boards, or floggers; to brat tamers handling their bratty subs, doling out easy punishments at this early hour of the night. I even spotted a few coloring stations around, with littles and a few middles indulging in their coloring books, generally removed from the more 'adult' partying in the background. Nothing too extreme at all. And everyone remained easygoing with one another, clearly enjoying themselves. As I was quite used to these things, they all looked perfectly normal to me.

Posted along the walls as security—a fair distance away—more Eclipse mercenaries observed the area. A series of private rooms lined the far wall, with hallways winding down well past my view. The Eclipse mercs focused their patrols in that location. I presumed one of those rooms belonged to Samara's fugitive, as her coveted lair, likely filled with the clues we needed.

Even as they watched the partying and partners playing, the mercs seemed on-edge. Like they expected something to go wrong at any moment. Or that something already had gone horribly wrong.

On instinct, Shepard held my hand tighter. Protective as always.

I began to worry that we wouldn't simply find Samara waiting around for us.

Jack wondered out loud, "Sure are a lot of mercs here. Think they get off to this?"

Shepard shrugged. "It's possible."

"Hey, Shepard, you're pretty comfortable. Made the team's reactions during the briefing even funnier. I swear Alenko was about to shit his pants. Did you _really_ think more of them were gonna come along?"

"I expected it would just be you with us."

"What, you didn't figure I'd be a giant prude?"

"Jack, you're anything but a prude," said Shepard, humoring her, much to my surprise. "You fit right in."

"Maybe," conceded Jack. "I guess. Not like I've actually been to a place like this before. Might've crashed a few house parties with sex going on out in the open. But _these_ kinda clubs? Nah, not my scene."

"Why not? If you don't mind me asking."

"Think it's the whole trust thing you have… I'm used to fucking faceless strangers. Or people I plan on killing later anyway. I'd never trust anyone for something like this, let alone just having sex wherever. Like, yeah, I've had some threesomes with guys and girls in my day. That's as far as it goes with me."

_"In your day?"_

"You know what I mean!" argued Jack. "Anyway… About this justicar we're picking up. Samara. Remember when you recruited me, Shepard? You said I'd be the second strongest on the team, at least with raw power. Is Samara gonna be the strongest one now? Pretty sure she's the one you meant."

Shepard reconsidered that. "She's supposed to be. From time to time, Aria will also join us as a guest. At least when we're fighting the Collectors. I'm betting those two will be our 'strongest' team members."

"Oh, yeah, Aria. Looks like I might be third, then. No idea if she could beat this justicar, though. Isn't Samara a matriarch? She's like a thousand years old or something, right?"

Still searching for Samara, I felt Shepard's instincts prickling at more possibilities.

I assumed she shared my worries, if she hadn't already done so before.

"Perhaps," I supplied. "We assume her age is somewhere around there. Her maturity will reflect this."

"Sounds wild," said Jack. "A thousand-year-old asari superhero's gonna join the team. I'm guessing she's seen a lot of stuff. No tolerance for bullshit. That sorta thing."

"I have to agree with you."

As we passed by an unguarded room, I could've sworn I heard some commotion coming from inside.

Out of an abundance of caution, Shepard cloaked before opening the door.

Jack and I remained at the ready by her side, following the faint glimmer of her transparent form.

We entered to what should have been a large, private lounge for anyone to have sex in. Yet as soon as the door closed, someone sent an Eclipse merc flying our way. The yellow and white of her armor flew right by us. She collided against the wall, her misshapen body crumpling to the floor with her shotgun.

A number of other mercenaries lay strewn elsewhere, their corpses long-crushed by biotic force.

On the other side, up on a raised platform, an injured Eclipse sister backed away from someone:

Someone obscured from my view, but whose self-possessed, dignified aura had already found me.

"Those were my best troops," fretted the lieutenant, backing away more; fearful in trembling.

As she moved, another silhouette reached my sight, glowing a faint biotic blue. Pacing toward the merc, her heels lengthened her elegant stride. Tight red and black of her uniform rose up her tall form, lined with a certain gold that caught my eye. That gold continued to rise, matching with the beauty of her neckpiece from her jaw down to her collarbone. The strength and sharpness of her jawline held the striking uniqueness of her face. Ethereal blue of her eyes: emotionless, focused; prepared, determined; intimidating without meaning. And jewel-like reds formed over her forehead as a segmented crown.

This mystic warrior held herself well, handling the confrontation perfectly on her own.

Raised above all, she spoke with such a low, clear voice—imperious without ego. "Tell me what I need to know, and I will be gone from here." She circled around the merc, eyeing her target. With her words remained the threat of death, _when_ this Eclipse merc decided not to comply. "Where did you send her?"

"You'd think I betray her?! She would hurt me in ways you can't imagine…"

"The name of the ship. Your life hangs on the answer, Lieutenant."

More terror welled in the merc's eyes—"You can kill me, but one of us will take you down, Justicar!"

As this lieutenant brandished her gun—in some frail attempt to project strength—the justicar reacted:

Aiming her biotic-powered grip at the lieutenant, she immobilized her from a distance. Lifting with such ease and strength, the justicar tossed the merc aside. Furniture destroyed, the lieutenant flew well across the room, landing battered and broken on the other side. Her weapon too far out of reach, she had no other recourse. Yet still she held on in stubbornness. The justicar jumped from that raised platform, hovering down, biotics glowing, lifting, lowering her in grace. In complete control, she landed before the Eclipse mercenary, who tried to scramble away. All she did was delay the inevitable.

Seeing where this was going now, Shepard uncloaked. She continued to observe in a stoic intrigue.

Samara stamped her heeled boot over the lieutenant's neck.

She stopped just short of killing, clamping that flesh between her tall heel and the slope of her shoe. In that stopping, the merc gripped at Samara's ankle. No leverage, not enough strength left to fight—she could only look up in fright as Samara stared down at her. The merc had nothing left, except defiance.

Angling her long, svelte leg as a final warning, Samara inquired, "What was the name of the ship she left on?"

The lieutenant choked beneath her weight. _"Go to hell."_

Grief and sorrow flashed through Samara's eyes—before she dissolved all back to her honor, her determination.

"Find peace in the embrace of the goddess."

Shifting her shoulders in-place, Samara snaked her momentum down her body. She twisted her heel with a significant force unseen. Just enough, she snapped the Eclipse sister's neck, ending her in that single motion. Samara stared down at that corpse, lingering in the moment, the aftermath. While the booming of the club's music blasted on beyond this room, she considered the weight of her actions.

Jack raised her brows in approval. "She can get it."

I nearly throttled her. "Jack…"

_"What?"_

Ignoring Jack's antics, Shepard stepped forward first.

Samara moved away from her slain victim, making direct eye contact with the three of us, one at a time.

"My name is Samara. I am a servant of the Justicar Code. The Council Spectre, Tela Vasir, mentioned you would find me here. She did not say you would be unarmed. I find this unusual. Especially for you, Commander. I have heard the legends of your skill as a sniper. Are your companions also biotic users?"

"Yes, they are," replied Shepard. "We didn't want to scare the civilians. Risking a fight with all these Eclipse sisters isn't the best idea, either. We'll have to get by without guns for this mission."

"That is wise."

Still, Shepard had a bone to pick: "That merc was wounded and helpless. Every dead body in here brings us closer to alerting the guards outside. Do you just kill anyone who won't help you?"

"If my cause is important enough, yes," stated Samara. "Are you different?"

"I've killed enemies—even someone who meant everything to me—but always with good reason."

Pausing for but a moment, Samara found that past choice in Shepard's eyes. "I answer to a code that is clearly defined. If my actions are true to that code, I am just. If they are not, I am unjust. I don't pretend it is a simple matter, or that it seems right to everyone. But I sleep well at night, and that is more than most can say. Though I understand the consequences. It is very possible I will alert the other sisters."

"So aside from your Code, why'd you jump the gun like this? I know Vasir said we'd help you out."

"I apologize, Commander," entreated Samara, bowing. "Whether I attempted to wait for you or not, we would have arrived at the same outcome. The Eclipse mercs found my demeanor suspicious; they brought me here in an attempt to intimidate me. It did not go well for them. I am now concerned that my mission may not be successful. The mercenaries are strengthening their defenses inside the building. They will make it increasingly difficult for us to find the clues I need. I may lose track of my quarry."

"That's what we're here for, Samara. I can take care of that. I just need you to follow my lead. Outside of this operation, I'm up against suicidal odds, and I need the best. That includes you. Let me help you find those clues. After we're done here, I want you to join our team. We're taking down the Collectors."

"I sense the truth in what you say, and it humbles me. The Eclipse sisters smuggled my quarry off-world. I must find the name of the ship she left on before the trail goes cold. Her old room is heavily guarded, but it no doubt contains the information I require. I can then resume my investigation, and track this fugitive down at a later time. I will gladly accept your assistance in exchange for joining your mission."

"Good," said Shepard, pulling up her omni-tool. "I have the schematics for this club. Do you know which room the fugitive was in?"

Samara used her own omni-tool to transfer the location data.

As she did, Shepard's radar tracked the target room—suddenly surrounded by a mountain of enemy signatures. Far too many for us to take on in a straight fight. Even with our combined biotic strength.

"That is my dilemma," noted Samara.

Shepard mapped out a path. "We've handled this kind of problem before. Getting around won't be an issue. The mercs actually don't have security cameras in this place. Probably so they can respect everyone's privacy. I'll sneak my way inside, get the information, and then get out. The simplest route is through the vents. I'll have to go through the women's restroom. Shouldn't take me too long."

"Sounds like a plan," I said.

Samara agreed, "As you say, Commander."

"Definitely," added Jack. "What about us? Should we…wait here?"

"Not here," ordered Shepard. "The mercs could decide to check this room. They'll start a scene. I need the three of you to go hang out in the club. Remain on standby. Don't attract attention. Act natural."

* * *

 _Acting natural_ wasn't as simple as Shepard made it sound.

Between Samara's eerie sense of calm, my perpetual worrying over Shepard being on her own while unarmed, and Jack turning into a chatterbox, I had no idea how this mission would go. I settled on ordering a glass of water, using it to distract myself—somewhat—as the three of us found a place to sit. Taking the chance with an open, crowded lounge, we sat together on a leather couch. Facing away from the playing and festivities seemed like the best idea. The music was loud enough to drown out the noise.

Jack and Samara conversed while I listened on, sipping my water.

"So, Samara," prodded Jack. "That Code of yours seems pretty strict. What's up with that?"

"It may seem so to you, but this is my oath. The expedient path may be fast and simple; that does not make it the right path. Otherwise, I may have attempted to battle every Eclipse sister on my own."

"Yeah? There's nothing in your Code that says you can't be here? You're not like a blue nun, are you?"

"There is nothing in the Code that forbids me from being in a place such as this. We are individuals who have forsworn family, children, and worldly possessions aside from some weapons and armor. We travel asari space righting wrongs, as defined by the ancient sutras we have each memorized. I understand that Illium is outside of asari space. Yet my quarry fled here, murdering many indentured servants and other innocent victims. I am sworn to hunt her down, and I will follow anywhere she goes. If I suffer for it, I will accept that."

Jack wasn't convinced. "You sure justicars aren't just nuns who can fight?"

I rolled my eyes. "Jack, the title you're thinking of is a warrior monk. Not a _nun,_ for God's sake."

Samara supplied, "The other close equivalents for your species would be a knight-errant, or samurai."

"They all sound badass to me," said Jack. "You're always on the trail, then? With your investigation."

"It is my life's work to find and kill this fugitive."

"No shit? You don't ever stop and mess around? Like going to a bar, or someplace like this. Get wasted; get laid. Hell, you're like a thousand years old. Don't you have a kid or two by now?"

Anyone else would have bristled, or snapped back. So many probing questions.

Composed as always, Samara pointed out, "You are an inquisitive one, Jack."

"I mean, _obviously._ What else are we supposed to do? Watch those people fucking on the other side?"

"Perhaps you could learn from Miranda. There is nothing wrong with silence between friends."

Getting the hint loud and clear, Jack reclined in her seat, choosing that golden silence.

This didn't last long, however.

Lying down at my side, Jack poked my shoulder.

"Hey, Princess," she bothered, making me roll my eyes again. "What was up with you earlier? You know, back at Eternity. You rushed off as soon as I got there with Zaeed. I thought we were supposed to chill together? We're kinda doing that now. Not exactly what I had in mind! I guess it's good enough."

"You should tell me why Zaeed was there in the first place. You said nothing about him joining us."

Jack grumbled. "Look, it's not my fault, okay? He's been following me everywhere!"

"Following you?" I questioned, not liking the sound of that at all. Samara's attention also sharpened.

"Not in a creepy old guy kinda way!" insisted Jack, sensing my thinking. "There's _something_ up with him, though. Like when we went to that straight bar I told you about, I basically told him to fuck off. I was done being his lame ass wingman. Then he got all depressed and weird. Zaeed tried to play it off with sarcasm like he always does, but I saw right through his bullshit. He only stopped once I said I needed to get some VR training in for the night. So then I brought him with me to see you 'cause I felt bad."

"Jack, your description of these events still appalls me. I'm not comfortable with the way he's behaving. He's well over twice your age; and he's clearly dominating your time with little regard for your personal space or boundaries. I can't allow this to continue. Has he ever expressed a romantic interest in you?"

"What?!" blurted Jack. "No! The only thing he's ever talked about _loving_ is some shitty old rifle of his!"

I puzzled, "Zaeed is in love…with a rifle?"

"I don't know, maybe? It's some gun he calls Jessie. He's always telling me stories about it. You know how guys like him love going on about the good old days? His missions with that gun were like that."

"Interesting."

"Look, Miranda, it's cute that you care… He's seriously not like that. Yeah, he's a pain in the ass, and he never leaves me alone, like you said. It's getting on my nerves. I wasn't sure what to do, 'cause I know he's sad or something, deep down. I'm not the person he can lean on for that kinda shit. He gets that. I just think he sees someone in me from his past. If I ask him, he's gonna get attached. I can't handle it."

"Then let _me_ handle this. I'm going to have a talk with him soon. His behavior with you is inappropriate."

"Okay, _Mom,"_ chided Jack. But then she lowered her guard, mumbling out, "Thanks…"

Turning to look at her properly, I gave Jack a look, showing her that I did care. Genuinely.

She scoffed and folded her arms, glancing away from me. Yet I knew she understood. That was enough.

I felt Samara's quiet approval.

Shepard finally contacted us via radio: _"Miranda. Are Jack and Samara still with you?"_

"Yes, Commander," I answered. "We're here. I've already added Samara to our team's frequency."

Samara asked, "Do you have any updates, Commander? Were you successful in your pursuit?"

_"I have the name of the ship. Your…ardat-yakshi fugitive left here yesterday on the AML Demeter."_

"Shepard, you impress me. You fulfilled your part of the bargain, and I will fulfill mine. I am prepared to join your team immediately."

_"How's this supposed to work, exactly? You're sworn to follow a code that dictates your decisions. But I'm running a military operation."_

"You wonder if I will refuse to follow orders because of my code?"

Shepard asserted, _"I can't allow that to happen."_

Samara informed her: "By agreeing to follow you, I am compelled to swear the most difficult of justicar oaths—the Third Oath of Subsumation. After I do, your orders will override the Code. You should know, however, that I'll still give my opinion if the situation warrants. Before we leave this place, I must first be sworn to your service."

 _"You mean we have to do this_ now?"

"Yes, Commander. It is of the utmost importance."

_"Understood. I'll make my way back to you. Sit tight. And be careful. The mercs are still on high alert."_

"We're not going anywhere," I said, longing to see her again soon. "We'll wait for you."

_"Copy that."_

As Shepard ended the communication, Jack sat back up, noticing—"Hey, you see those mercs over there? Looks like they're shutting the party down. I got a bad feeling about this."

Brandishing their weapons at the civilians, those Eclipse sisters threatened the club-goers to stop everything. Frightening, terrorizing, the mercs held half-dressed and undressed people at gun-point, barking questions at them about their motives. Those screams of terror from the civilians rose above the music playing on.

"Shepard's not gonna like this," said Jack. "The mercs are blaming the civilians for their dead people."

"There's nothing we can do right now," I cautioned. "We have our orders. Stay here." Looking to Samara, I was surprised she hadn't moved. "Do you plan on taking matters into your own hands?"

Samara remained still. "I do not," she replied. "Though I have not yet sworn my oath to Commander Shepard, it is my decision to wait for her. I will then act accordingly once the oath is satisfied."

I couldn't imagine having to restrain her. "Good to know."

We waited a few more terror-filled moments before Shepard found us.

Well-aware of the scenes going on elsewhere, she made sure that I was all right first.

She then stated, "I hope you know what you're doing, Samara. Getting out of here will be a nightmare."

"I must be sworn to your service, so that I am never forced to choose between your orders and the Code."

Uneasy, Shepard watched as Samara's eyes glowed as pure white light. Closing her eyes, Samara then knelt down before our commander, head bent and one hand on the floor. Jack and I both stood up on a sudden reflex. Shepard merely stared down at her, listening to this sworn oath of fealty:

"By the Code, I will serve you, Shepard. Your choices are my choices; your morals are my morals. As Miranda is your second-in-command, her will is an extension of yours. As the woman you revere above all, she is also my charge. In the event you cannot reach your loved one, it is my utmost duty to protect and serve her. I will lay down my life as necessary—as you both require. Your wishes are my code."

In awe, Shepard took in the meaning of those words, capped off with Samara's entire being glowing a biotic blue.

I honestly hadn't expected her oath to include me at all…

Jack commented, "Never thought I'd see anything like _that_ before. You justicars sure are something."

Standing anew, Samara warned, "If you make me do anything extremely dishonorable, I may need to kill you when I am released from my oath. However, I have studied your actions and your morals a great deal, Commander. I remain confident that we will not run into any such issues. You are a paragon of ruthless excellence. The balance you maintain is impeccable. I do not imagine this will ever change."

Wary of the ongoing chaos in the background, Shepard still expressed, "Thank you, Samara."

"Truly, the life of a justicar can get lonely. I admit, I am looking forward to serving with a company of honorable heroes. Shall we return to your ship when this is over?"

 _"Whenever_ this is over, yeah…"

Armored boots pounding upon the ground, heavy artillery clicking with their movements—a large group of Eclipse mercs rushed over in our direction. They aimed their guns straight at us.

"Hands in the air, now! Do it or we'll shoot!"

Shepard simply said, "Samara."

"Commander," she acknowledged.

Just before the mercs fired their weapons, Samara protected us. Extending her arms, she produced a potent biotic bubble, keeping us safe within. Those gunshots did little to breach her defenses. As the mercs found their weapons ineffective, they stopped, gaping at us—at a loss for words. They'd assumed we were mere civilians, only to be proven wrong.

Now was the perfect time to strike back.

Gesturing her head in the mercs' direction, Shepard added, "Jack."

"You got it!"

Permission to go on a rampage: Jack sent out a forceful shockwave, sending the Eclipse mercs flying in all directions. She then charged forward, knocking away any strays around. Giving her all, Jack held nothing back, taunting the mercs and laughing at their screams of agony. In her sadistic delight, I knew she was at risk of tiring herself out, as always. She'd certainly made some progress since Horizon, yet the possibility remained regardless.

Samara sensed the same. She looked to Shepard, and then to me. Shepard gave her the go-ahead to help Jack out. But Samara wanted to make sure everything would be all right. I nodded to her, knowing what this meant. Taking my confidence to heart, Samara dropped her barrier and rushed ahead. Her Reave attacks blasted straight through the Eclipse sisters' reinforcements. Personal barriers boosted, Samara had free reign to continue for as long as necessary. Jack was strategic enough to combo her powers with Samara's, detonating several biotic explosions in a row. Those blasts ripped across the club, seismic shaking keeping the mercs in control. Jack's vicious calls of, _"I will destroy you!"_ let me know her stamina would hold. I trusted that the two of them could handle things just fine over there.

Staying at Shepard's side, I stared up at her in worry.

No sniper rifle, no sidearm, and such weak shields compared to mine, to Jack's, to Samara's.

She had no business being here. Not in the middle of this firefight with no end in sight.

"Shepard, you should leave," I stressed. "Activate your cloak and escape. This is non-negotiable."

"Miranda, I'm not leaving my team. I can't abandon you."

"Do you _really_ have the luxury of deciding that? With everything going on right behind us?"

"There's always a choice. I won't leave your side."

"God forbid something happens to you again… Why would you take the risk?"

More reinforcements arrived. They pushed past Jack and Samara's flank. Grabbing Shepard and forcing her to get down, I shielded her in my hold. Those bullets battered against my back. _Unending._ Determination blistering, I forced my shields to compensate. They held, as I held Shepard in my arms, even as she grunted over her apparent cowardice, unable to do anything except kneel here with me.

"Damnit, Shepard, you're too vulnerable! You need to get out of here, _now!"_

Cradled in my hold, and still refusing to go, Shepard instead fiddled with her omni-tool.

The onslaught against my back stopped after a time—Jack charged into the crowd while Samara cleaned up the rest.

While Shepard kept on with her omni-tool, sending a few alerts out, the worst was already on its way.

Heavily-armored, powerful kinetic barriers glowing, the leader of the Eclipse sisters showed up. Captain Wasea, the same asari that lunatic volus had been ranting about earlier. With her arrival, the carnage everywhere stopped. The other sisters stopped terrorizing the civilians. The other mercs halted their attacks against Samara and Jack, watching their leader. In turn, our teammates also paused, taking Wasea in—waiting for her next move. Watching as she approached Shepard and me.

Those bold, orange markings over her face hardly obscured her rage.

We had clearly disrupted her business here, and she wasn't at all happy about it.

"Everything's gone to hell since we smuggled that filthy creature off-world. First a justicar shows up, and now you're with her. If I was in a better mood, I'd take pleasure in turning your heads into a pulpy mass. But you've pissed me off with this shit you pulled in my club. So here's what we're going to do."

With one gesture from her, the Eclipse sisters responded in-kind.

They brandished their guns at each of the civilians. Panicked screams, trembling—those defenseless people cowered upon the ground. Any attempts they made to reach out to their friends or loved ones nearby, the mercs cut short. Stomping on extended hands and arms, or shoving weapons harder against crying faces, the civilians were at their mercy. As spread out as everyone was, Jack and Samara could do nothing except remain still. Any sudden moves from our teammates would provoke terrible carnage.

Captain Wasea snarled at us, "Surrender yourselves. If you don't, you know what's next. That'll be their blood on your hands. Every last one of them! I'm not fucking around."

We had our implicit orders to protect the civilians.

Shepard wouldn't allow any harm to come to them.

Even still, I didn't sense her immediate wishes for us to stand down.

"Shepard…?"

"Miranda, just hold on."

Wasea sharpened her tone. "This isn't a game! It's time to do as I say, otherwise—"

Bursting through, a score of armed police officers showed up, storming the area with guns drawn.

The foremost leader among them looked to the mercs, and then to our team, deeming all of us a threat.

Exactly as Shepard had planned…despite the clear inconvenience of getting mixed up in this.

_"You're all under arrest!"_

* * *

Brought to the nearest police station, and stuck in the sterile white of a holding cell, this mission hadn't at all gone as I'd expected.

Our team was together, at least. And we had hope on the way. We simply had to wait until they arrived.

The police had been kind enough to send the civilians home. No one had been injured too terribly, though none of them would want to return to Deep Azure any time soon. With Captain Wasea locked up, it seemed unlikely that the club's operations would continue. Their competition would take over.

I was grateful to Shepard for her planning and foresight.

But sitting in a jail cell with her wasn't my idea of a good time.

Lounging not too far away from us, Jack appeared perfectly at-ease. Seeing as this was nothing new for her, I supposed I couldn't fault her calm and comfort. Lying over her back, she had her ankle over one knee, with her interlaced hands supporting the back of her head. Her baggy pants shifted with her slight movements, the leather of her vest acting as a decent-enough cushion over the hard floor.

Samara also seemed at peace, meditating in a nearby corner. Legs crossed, back straight, eyes closed, she hadn't moved an inch since we arrived here. I envied her mood-management skills right about now.

Shepard sat against my back behind me. We supported each other like this, with her back as my wall and mine as hers. I let her hold my hand, anyway. Languorous, lazy, we kept our gloved hands on the floor next to us. This loving ease about her reached me, calming somewhat.

The occasional stroke of her thumb over mine reminded me to breathe; to set my irritation aside.

If only we could've had a moment like this _outside_ of jail.

Still lounging in place, Jack spoke aloud, "Hey, Samara. You were pretty good back there. I've got a lot to learn from you. Think I could ever beat you in a straight-up fight?"

Dimming her meditation, Samara responded, "You are stronger than many asari I have faced. Some of whom were hundreds of years old. I must admit some surprise, as I have never encountered a human biotic as powerful as you are. Your raw capabilities are quite remarkable for one so young."

"So, is that a yes? I could actually win against you?"

"You would…almost be a worthy foe."

 _"Almost?!_ What the hell is that supposed to mean?"

"While your strength is great indeed, the same cannot be said of your control. Had the police not arrived when they did, I suspect your stamina would have soon run out. Such a weakness is exploitable. In battle, I would merely have to hold out until you became tired. You would no longer be a threat."

"Damn, Shepard said the same thing! She's not even a biotic and she saw it. What a pain in the ass…"

Samara counseled, "Fortunately, this is a flaw you can correct. I believe you are making an effort."

"Yeah, I'm working on it. Hitting the VR training every day. Changed my diet. That kinda stuff."

"Much more work needs to be done."

Jack groaned. "Well thanks for rubbing it in my face, Samara!"

I shifted the subject: "We're lucky we got out of there when we did. Even if it was…unconventional."

Shepard justified, "I had to call the police. It was the only way to help the civilians in time."

"I agree with your decision. I just wish there was some other way we could've resolved things."

Samara said, "I also feel this was the honorable choice to make. I am already proud to serve you, Commander. Had it been my decision alone, the Code would have dictated that I kill anyone in my way in order to escape. Including innocents. Such a tragedy would have weighed heavily on my conscience."

Shepard wished to know, "So, your Code lets you skip the whole due-process?"

"Such legalities are immaterial. It is no different than your broad authority as a Council Spectre."

"Point taken."

That specific authority helped us escape this place at last.

Once the guards let us out of this holding cell, we were allowed back out to the main floor of the station.

Waiting for us was Vasir, with a rather bemused look on her face.

"Shepard. Lawson. Bailing you and your team out of jail was _not_ on my to-do list tonight."

"Vasir," I said. "I apologize for taking up your time. Trust me, this wasn't on our agenda for the evening."

"Oh, I believe you," she replied. "After everything's said and done, let's just call it even between us."

"Agreed… Thank you."

One of the detectives nearby told us, "You're free to go. But if I ever catch you doing something like this in my district again, don't expect to get off so easy. That includes you, Justicar."

Samara bowed to her. "Understood, Detective."

As we all left the station, Vasir went on her way, with promises to meet up again tomorrow. She also gave me a reminder, to expect another email about the drell assassin, Thane Krios. I could only hope that his recruitment mission wouldn't be as eventful as Samara's had been.

We returned to the _Normandy._ I'd already made the announcement to the rest of the team, asking them to make their way to the comm room for a debriefing. Given the late hour, I expected some of them to be tired and distracted. But they showed up anyway, doing their best to stay alert for Shepard's sake. They seemed eager, as well, to meet this justicar that had taken us so long to recruit.

As soon as Samara walked in the room with us, the energy about the team changed. Yes, they fell silent as always, yet there was something more. I felt their sense of awe, taking in Samara's natural majesty, as emotionally-removed as she was from everything. They watched as she remained by my side, as I allowed Samara to stay near the head of the table with me. Tali in particular had a specific sort of amazement. Even from here, I could see how the brights of her eyes widened beneath her mask, nearly child-like.

Samara noticed as well, and gave her a mild smile.

Tali returned that smile with a gentle one of her own.

I did find it curious that Zaeed refused to look Samara's way at all.

As Shepard led the debriefing, everyone was shocked to learn of all that had happened. While they had their answers for why we'd taken so long to return, I spotted their own personal relief. Relief, indeed, that they hadn't come along after all, evading the possibility of winding up in jail.

Shepard then introduced Samara to the team.

"Everyone, this is Samara. As you know, she's a justicar. I've seen her biotic powers at work. They're substantial. She has her own investigation going separate from the mission. But she's made it clear that the Collectors will also be a priority."

"Of course," said Samara. "My quarry is dangerous indeed. She is a true predator who grows stronger with each kill. Based on her crimes here on Illium, it is clear she has grown bored, and is seeking out more challenging targets. I must continue my search into her current whereabouts. However, in the meantime, I will devote all efforts to aiding you in your fight against the Collectors. As promised."

Shepard offered her hand, officially. "Welcome to the team, Samara."

Samara shook her hand in a grateful grace. "Thank you, Commander. It is a privilege to serve you."

"With your skills, I think you'll be an excellent addition to our team."

"That is high praise indeed. I will be prepared for whatever we encounter."

I asked her, "Well, Samara, do you have any preferences for where you'd like to stay on the ship?"

Not a hint of irony: "A room that looks out on the great empty void would be most comforting."

"In that case, we can offer you the starboard observation room on deck three."

"Thank you, Miranda," accepted Samara. "Once our business is finished here, I must continue meditating on the day's events."

As she said that, I realized just how much this long, busy day had weighed on me.

I felt myself about to shut down…but I didn't want to do that. Not when I had Shepard to lean on.

I still wasn't sure how to go about any of this. Was I supposed to _ask?_ Or was she too tired as well?

Would she expect us to simply go to our respective rooms after this? Regardless of our reconciliation earlier, did it mean anything? Was she upset with me? Had we taken a step back in our relationship?

I didn't know.

I didn't know.

 _Not knowing_ made my worrying worse and worse.

Shepard concluded the meeting: "We have one other potential recruit here on Illium. Thane Krios, the drell assassin. We're expecting to get some information on him soon. We'll meet again tomorrow to go over our next plan of action. Get some rest until then. You're dismissed."

As everyone else left the room, I remained rooted in place.

Garrus, EDI, Legion, Zaeed, Jack, Samara, Tali, Mordin, Kasumi, and Kaidan had all departed by now.

Only Shepard and I were still here.

And I was reminded, then, that she hadn't left earlier. Before. At Deep Azure. When I'd told her to run. When I'd ordered her to abandon me. When I'd insisted that she save herself and leave, not thinking about what that would mean for me. Not quite remembering that she could have cloaked with me and left. I wasn't sure why that fact had slipped my mind. Maybe the day had already gotten to me by then…

Shepard held my hand. Supportive and strong, exactly as I needed right now.

She led me outside the comm room. Around to the elevator. We went up, back to her private cabin.

As soon as we made it to her calm, quiet space, Shepard gave me the rest of what I needed.

She pulled me into her arms. Cradling me this way, she returned the favor from our time at the club, and then some. Hiding my emotions along the warmth of her neck, her breathing—Shepard brought me back to this critical state. She took the initiative. Shepard reiterated with her strength, her protectiveness that we hadn't lost trust. Not at all. If anything, we'd truly moved forward together.

"It's going to be okay, Miranda."

Hearing her say that as well, whispering over the roots of my hair—she heated me, heating these stresses and concerns away. Stresses and concerns about my father, about the Illusive Man, or something somehow happening to Oriana, about the rest of the mission: everything dissolved for this moment. She stabilized me. Everything about me. Everything beyond this room ceased to matter.

"Everything will be all right. I'm not going anywhere. I promise."

Absolute relief passed over me.

Even more relief chilled me, soothed me, as Shepard brought us to her bed. Chilling and soothing as the crispness of her sheets, welcoming me for the first time. Taking this time, holding me here, Shepard truly kept her promises. She returned me to the security I needed with her. She pulled me into this blanket, this refuge, this certainty I'd had with her just yesterday, bolstering all even more. And even though she'd forgotten how to say the words to me, she shared them in this way, in her own way:

Devoted as she was to this justice of protecting me, in her safe, stoic silence.


	44. The Assassin

_"Thane" from Mass Effect 2_

**XLIV.** The Assassin

_(Shepard)_

Starting over with Miranda in this way—on Illium, anyway—we'd spent all night and morning in my bed. Talking. About everything and nothing at all. Even the nothing felt consequential, in that we'd chosen to take _nothing_ for granted. So by the time we did separate, with Miranda returning to her room to shower and get ready for the day—and to send Samara her official welcoming email—I still felt her next to me. I felt her in my arms as I took my own shower, with her as this misting mirage as I held myself, in reality.

The simplest image of me standing behind her, kissing the slope of Miranda's neck. The more vivid moments of her movements over me, into me. Touching her face just so. Admiring. Listening to every breath she took for me, every sound she made for me.

I regretted shying away from that.

I regretted not jumping into things when we could; taking Miranda in her bed, in her apartment.

At the same time, we couldn't rush. Miranda needed us to do this right or not at all. That still applied.

For now, my imagination had to compensate.

More immediate, Miranda and I had certain plans for today, before the next mission.

Shiala agreed to meet with us this afternoon. I looked forward to hearing what she had to say.

Before then, Miranda had one other obligation. She'd already told me about her plans to speak with Zaeed, and why. I'd noticed how well he and Jack got along. Knowing that there was something more psychological behind their bond, I wasn't sure how to feel about it. Not to mention, Miranda and I had both noticed that Zaeed's work productivity had fallen recently. Whether it was because of how many team members we had now, or because of his personal issues, this problem couldn't go on. All the more reason for us to pick up James Vega, our arms master to help in the armory.

I'd given Miranda my blessing to handle this issue with Zaeed as she saw fit.

While she spoke with him, I decided to take this extra time to prepare for the mission with Thane.

First, I looked over Vasir's intel that Miranda had forwarded to me earlier:

_From: Vasir, Tela – FW: Thane Krios._

_Lawson,_

_Once again, time is of the essence._

_I have confirmation: Krios intends to assassinate Nassana Dantius tonight._

_I recommend locating Krios while he's infiltrating the Dantius Towers. Whether you catch him before, during, or after the act, it doesn't matter. No one will lose sleep over Nassana's death. Just be sure to find Krios during this window. Otherwise, he'll disappear again. This is your best chance to recruit him._

_Even though Krios is an enigma, I managed to find some personal information on him. When you told me he was a drell, I wondered if he had Kepral's Syndrome. It's a genetic disease that erodes the lungs, leading to severe respiratory problems, before eventual death. After the hanar rescued several drell from their hostile homeworld, and brought them to Kahje, the drell couldn't handle the constant rainy, humid climate on the hanar homeworld. This disease is an unfortunate result of their rescue. Krios used to have Kepral's Syndrome. He made a rare, miraculous recovery, thanks to genetic engineering from the hanar. Although there was a dark period when it looked like he was going to die. Could be the case that he's trying to atone for whatever he's done in his life as a career assassin. Just making an educated guess._

_Meet me at the cargo transfer level tonight at 7:30pm. I'll drive you and your team to the Dantius Towers. If you want my advice, you should limit this operation to as few people as possible. Nassana has her Eclipse mercs out in force. Partly due to paranoia on her end. But some areas of the Dantius Towers are currently under construction. You could exploit this weakness if you so choose. As long as you're aware of the risks. Sending a team to meet Eclipse at the front door will only slow you down. Given you have the best infiltrator in the galaxy as your commander, you might want to lean on that instead._

_-Vasir_

With Vasir's advice in mind, I spent a long while going over my schematics for the Dantius Towers.

Going through the vents, and taking hidden pathways up through the towers' many floors: usually the most reliable option. This time was no exception. I was able to map out a number of viable paths this way. One other question remained. Would I do this alone, or would I bring someone with me?

We had Kasumi and EDI available. I wasn't the only infiltrator on the team anymore.

Their infiltration skills lent themselves more to combat, and breaching security systems. Crawling around the ducts and moving quickly in limited spaces was more my style. Maybe they'd be best suited to create a distraction elsewhere.

I was about to make a decision about this—until Miranda sent me a quick message. Finished speaking with Zaeed now, she asked me to meet her on the bridge, so we could go speak with Shiala together. Already wearing my casual Alliance blues, I shelved my pre-planning and went down the elevator.

When I found Miranda waiting for me, she looked just as annoyed as I'd anticipated.

"Hey, babe," I said, giving her a quick kiss.

"Shepard," she murmured, letting me hold her hand. "Thank you for coming to find me so quickly."

As we left the _Normandy,_ I gave Miranda some time to calm down.

She seemed to appreciate the gesture.

By the time we arrived to the rapid transit station, her mood had mostly returned to normal. Especially once we made to the air-conditioned chill of one of the cars, escaping the sunny heat of the afternoon. I held Miranda close to me. Sensing her improvements, her relaxations after a while. Even though she was okay again, I could tell she still had a lot on her mind.

I prompted her, "So, how'd everything go with Zaeed? Did he listen to you?"

Miranda sighed against my shoulder. "More or less. You know how he is with me."

"That doesn't sound good."

"It was fine, really," she insisted. "He knew he'd gotten too attached to Jack, unnecessarily. But Zaeed wasn't at all forthcoming about his reasons why. Jack's speculations about his past were quite accurate. I know he has some unfinished business with that Vido Santiago character, from the Blue Suns. This doesn't seem to be related to that old grudge of his. This appears to be far more emotional on his end."

"Well, speaking of that," I remembered, "I should bring this up with him. Vido Santiago, at least. Maybe at some point he'll talk about his other personal issues. This opens up an opportunity, though."

"Hmm, what opportunity do you mean?"

"We already took care of Mordin's personal mission. I'm assuming everyone else will have something similar. Their own pressing issues they need help wrapping up, before we hit the Collector homeworld."

"That's true," agreed Miranda. "Ideally, we could get through these over the next several weeks. No one should be distracted once we make the jump through the Omega 4 Relay. In Zaeed's case, it looks like he has more than one issue bothering him. He'll need to decide which is more important."

"I'm thinking the same. I'll have a one-on-one with everyone soon. Find out what they need."

"I'm glad you're taking the initiative on this. I'm sure the others will appreciate it."

I had to ask, "What about you?"

Nearly startled, Miranda asked back, "What about me?"

"Do you have…a personal mission you need us to take care of?"

"Shepard, you already know what's been on my mind lately…"

"The Illusive Man. Your father. And your sister."

Miranda reasoned, "Yes, and I don't have a _mission_ in mind for those three people."

"Well, I still want you to think it over."

"If you insist. To be honest, I'm more concerned about this talk with Shiala. At least right now."

"What do you mean?" I wondered.

"Considering the knowledge she has—it would be nice to hear her say the words. Confirming what we already know. It's been so long since the two of you first spoke on Feros. Zhu's Hope was an age ago."

"You're right. It'll be good to have that confirmation, like you said."

We soon found Shiala waiting for us along an overpass, gazing out to the view of Nos Astra. The sunny weather had mostly dimmed, with clouds beginning to come in, obscuring the day's light. Humming in concern, Shiala gazed up at the change in the skies. She then spotted Miranda with me as we approached. Smiling in a warm greeting, she looked glad to see us.

"Commander Shepard," said Shiala. "Miranda. Thank you for meeting with me today."

"How are you doing, Shiala?" I asked. "Where did you go after Zhu's Hope?"

Shiala bowed, explaining, "I am doing well, Commander. After leaving the human colony on Feros, I decided to travel around, searching for any information I could find on your immunity to indoctrination. My search led me to Thessia, where a number of records are kept about the Prothean Empire. Without the context of my knowledge, the records would not have made much sense to me. Yet I was able to glean just enough, confirming that the Protheans once used your exact methods. Of course, they were not very successful in their endeavors. But the fact remains that you are replicating their attempts."

"If the Protheans had more time, they might've won the war. They might still be alive today."

"This is true. Already I can see that much has changed over the past two years, since the Battle at the Citadel. Luckily for all of us, your victory should not be an isolated event. You are on course to repeat it."

Miranda seemed surprised. "You're able to gauge Shepard's state that quickly?"

"Indeed," replied Shiala. "Ever since the incident with the Thorian, I have remained in-tune with the commander's state of mind. I believe I was privy to the exact moment when her protector changed. I can tell that it was a seamless transition. Your bond feels much stronger than the previous one."

"You're able to confirm that I'm her protector? Is everything working just fine?"

"Yes, this much is evident. You are the commander's protector, Miranda. There is no chaos that marked her previous bond. No clashing forces or obscured facts. The knowledge I have gained over the years has helped me see with more clarity. The bond you share is one of harmony, balance, and mediation. Psychologically, you are both equals, and you each provide what the other lacks. You are on track to gain a much greater understanding of one another."

I liked the sound of that. "So we can only go up from here."

"Absolutely. You and Miranda have nothing to worry over. Although, there is something."

"Something?" I echoed.

"Someone appears to be waiting for you, Commander. I sense their patience, devoted and unyielding."

"What do you mean, Shiala? _Who_ is waiting for me?"

Shiala gave me such an unusual look. Knowing, otherworldly.

And then she said softly, "I believe you will soon find out. There is no need for me to tell you anything further. It is best that you discover the truth on your own."

"Hmm, if you say so."

Miranda still wanted to know, "Is it true Shepard can only have _one person_ influencing her this way? Protecting her?"

Shiala noticed the source of her concern. "As with anything else, our bonds with others will always influence us, to a certain extent. However, in this case, it would not be enough to protect Commander Shepard from indoctrination. They cannot act as any sort of safety net, either. I would merely call them supplementary bonds at best. Everything hinges on what the two of you share together. No one else."

I noticed how anxious Miranda seemed, having this confirmation as well. This spike in her worrying, her concerns, her self-consciousness—as ever, she feared what would happen whenever she made another mistake. Thankfully, the discussions we'd had recently helped to calm her…as much as possible, anyway. She was able to breathe with me, leaning on our trust together. Whatever happened in the future would happen, regardless of how hard we tried to stop it. We had to keep moving forward. No matter the cost.

We spent a while longer talking with Shiala about this.

Mostly Miranda asking questions, down to granular details—with Shiala happy to answer her.

I stayed quiet. Listening. Watching the way Miranda absorbed the information. Because she knew how important this was. How the fate of the galaxy depended on this information; depended on the two of us staying together, and staying alive. As capable as Miranda was, I trusted her to stand by my side. I trusted this time we had, from now until roughly the end of the year, when the Reapers would arrive. Time for us to grow closer, to get to know each other more. To figure out how to make this all work.

As much as Miranda and Shiala could've kept speaking, there was only so much _time_ left.

We had a handful of hours until the briefing with the team—before meeting Vasir for Thane's mission.

Still, the skies above had spoken. Thickening, darkening rain clouds. We had to get inside.

So we decided to part ways. Shiala had a transport scheduled to return to Thessia. She promised to stay in-touch with Miranda via email, if anything else came up. She wished us luck and went on her way.

"May fortune smile upon you both."

Fortune was really what it came down to, in the end.

Miranda and I returned to the rapid transit station, discussing how to spend the rest of our free time.

A sudden email she received seemed to answer that for us.

"Oh, God," she muttered, voice trembling. "This can't be happening…"

I held her shoulders, steadying. "Babe? What's going on?"

"One of my agents shadowing Oriana just contacted me. My sister wants us to meet. Face-to-face. _No hiding_ this time. I have no idea how she managed to get in-touch with my agent. Then again, my father tried to warn me about this… Oriana is apparently quite resourceful. And stubborn. I shouldn't be surprised."

"Are you ready to meet your sister like this?"

Miranda lamented, "Shepard, I doubt I'll ever be _ready_ … But I don't have a choice. She deserves an explanation from me. She deserves the truth. Whether I'm prepared or not. I owe that much to her."

"Okay, then," I replied.

A moment passed, with Miranda set to reply to the email, her shaking hand hovering over her omni-tool. She kept blanking out, unsure of how to proceed. Unprepared. Not ready at all.

"Miranda, do you want me with you? While you talk to her."

Remembering herself, she finally breathed in and out. "Yes, I want you with me… Or at least somewhere nearby."

"We should go to a secure location. Either the _Normandy_ or your apartment."

Breathing more, calming more, Miranda could think clearly now.

"Let's go back to my place," she decided. "I'll ask my agent to send the message along. Oriana can meet us there. Hopefully before it starts raining. Then again, after how things have gone with you and me, perhaps the rain isn't an omen. Maybe it's a good sign after all. That's what I'd like to believe, anyway."

* * *

Back at Miranda's apartment, the rain chose not to wait for us. The downpour poured on outside the picture windows, drenching the glass in thin rivers, obscuring the gray of the cloudy day beyond. Sitting in the living room just near those windows, and that gray, Miranda dealt with her nerves. She stared out at that misted obscurity; here in the kitchen, I stared at this other mist, of heat rising from the whistling kettle in front of me. I knew Miranda smiled in this exact moment—my grumbling over the noise, I was sure she could hear from where she was. Even while I was grumpy, I liked giving her this little bit of joy.

Pouring this steaming water into Miranda's tea cup, I wondered how this whole thing would go. I wondered just how much of the truth Miranda would give to her sister. Or if she would instead choose to be as vague as possible, likely leading to disagreements and hurt feelings. Chamomile heat and honeyed sweetness seemed to be the best way to meet the moment. I hoped it would do the trick.

As I brought Miranda her tea, I had to admire her.

There she sat over the black leather of her couch, one long leg crossed over the other. The blue, black, and orange of her Cerberus uniform shined in this gloomy light from the windows, reflecting the rainy day outside. Such a deep look of contemplation: Miranda's beauty exceeded my perception. She gazed out at the day, thinking over a thousand problems at once. Her grace and stature refused to falter, holding her composure well. Even as she touched the collar around her neck on occasion, she never once gave herself away. Not even here in the comfort and safety of her own home.

I had a feeling her walls and barriers wouldn't last for long. Maybe the tea would melt that her ice as well.

Mindful of her emotional state, I knelt before Miranda's place on the couch.

"Here, baby," I said, offering this tea to her.

Blinking as quickly as the rain spattering over the windows, she turned her stare to me.

"Shepard…thank you," whispered Miranda, accepting the cup with both hands. "You're a sweetheart."

As she took a sip, smiling in satisfaction, she seemed to notice something else. Delicate, she placed the tips of her fingers along the length of her throat. Hiding the sounds of her swallowing; the reality of it.

"It's too quiet," she grumbled. "I don't mean to be rude."

"Rude?" I asked. "What do you mean? It's only me." Miranda turned the television on anyway. At a lowered volume. Just to have some white noise around. "Babe, you know I don't mind any of that."

"I know… I've always censored myself this way. Held back. Even while I was completely alone."

"You don't have to do that with me."

"You're right. Old habits." Staring out the window again, Miranda rolled her ankle around, seeming anxious again. "I wonder how long it will take Oriana to get here. My agent told me she's driving. I wish she didn't have to. I don't trust those people out on the road, in this storm… What if she gets into an accident? While she's on her way to see me? It would be all my fault… I couldn't live with myself."

Sensing where this was going, I tried to calm her anyway: "Miranda…"

"God, I know. I'm not helping."

 _"You know,_ but you're still worrying."

"Well, sometimes, worrying feels like a survival tactic. Like I'm preparing for the worst ahead of time."

It hurt to hear that from her. "Are you not letting yourself accept the upside? The positive. The good."

Miranda struggled to admit—"I have such a difficult time accepting positivity. I keep expecting something bad to happen. Something terrible. Something to balance out the good feelings. All as some sort of reminder that I'm not meant to be happy. _I'm not meant_ to be okay. I'm not allowed to be…"

I spotted the way Miranda's gloved hands trembled as she held her tea.

Gently, I took the cup from her, setting it over a coaster on the coffee table.

Miranda gripped her hands together instead. Self-regulating. Controlling herself. Nearly failing.

"I don't want my sister to go through the same thing. I worry that she will, once she knows more about me. I worry what will come to pass, once she's aware of what I've done. The normal life she has with her friends and family… Compared to what I've had, it's practically idyllic. Perfect. Too good to be true."

Sitting next to her now, I felt how close Miranda was— _this close_ to spiraling.

She let me hold her hands. She let me see this about her. She let this show:

"What if _I'm_ the problem? What if I'm toxic, and I infect her with this disease of misfortune? What if there's something wrong with me…?"

As much as this broke my heart, I found the resolve to stay strong for her.

I did my best to say, "I don't think there's anything wrong with you."

Staring down at our locked hands, Miranda shook her head. "I want to believe that."

"Then what's stopping you?"

She couldn't answer me.

Not with words.

Crystalline wetness coated her eyes, downcast and blurring as the rain did to the windows.

Trusting me with such ease, Miranda let the same fall from her eyes. She let me see her like this. She allowed me in like this, letting me see everything. Her struggling, her sniffling; her softness in not controlling herself to such extremes, all the time. She opened herself to me in ways I couldn't. In the same ways I'd refused just yesterday. Blame removed, undistributed, she let herself _be this_ with me.

"Hey, come here," I said, easing her closer. "It's all right."

As this reflection of the times, I held Miranda in my arms. She buried her face beneath mine, emotions slipping down the slope of my neck. The blue of my shirt absorbed that slipping, darkening and growing this wet spot, larger and larger. Even as it stuck and grew cold, I wore Miranda's trust as this badge of honor. Directly over my chest, badged just so: Miranda stayed right at this spot with me, never once pulling away. Never once shying away, moving away from my hand stroking the back of her head. A reflection, truly, because she faced me this time—our positive image from the first time I'd held her on the _Normandy._ That night in the comm room, when she'd allowed me to pull her back from the abyss.

I loved being this for her.

I loved the way she held onto me, gripping. I love that she relied on me like this, shame dissolved away.

Miranda sniffled and said, "I just want her to be okay, Shepard. I just want her to be happy… Because I never was. And I know what it's like! I don't want that for her. I can't allow my sister to suffer like I did."

"Oriana's going to be fine," I soothed. "She'll be better off once you have this talk."

"How do you know for certain…?"

"She'll be a lot happier, knowing she has a sister who loves her."

Needing to believe me, Miranda's breathing steadied.

Calming, slowing, she found her own center again, right here in my arms.

She couldn't stay like this for very long. Soon enough, she pulled away a bit, enough to wipe her face.

"I'm being ridiculous," she criticized, sniffling more. "I can't let her see me like this."

Reaching to the tissue on her table, I pulled some over to her.

Miranda accepted the softness, murmuring her thanks. She quickly turned around, needing a moment.

I smiled anyway, watching as her body hitched with her movements, her heart's momentum.

She then spoke with a stuffed noise, voice thickened, "My sister's going be here soon…"

"You sure you want me to stay?" I asked.

"Yes, please… You can use my terminal to continue preparing for the mission, if you'd like. Having you around will help me stay calm. I just—need a few minutes to breathe. Before she arrives. That's all."

"I understand. I can go wait for her outside the building."

"If you could escort Oriana inside, that would be wonderful. I'll feel better knowing you're there."

Sealing this promise, I kissed the back of her head, lingering. "I will."

"All right," accepted Miranda, sighing with relief. "I told my agent to direct her to the parking lot across the street. She has a white car. I'm sure she'll recognize you right away. Take my umbrella by the door."

"Okay. I'll be back with her in a bit."

Taking Miranda's umbrella—and one of her jackets that were too short for me, upon her insistence that I not catch a cold—I went downstairs to the lobby. I passed by a few other tenants who'd gotten rained-on, annoyed as they were over the sudden change in weather. Their distractions kept them from recognizing me. I enjoyed the relative anonymity while I could.

Outside in that parking lot, I soon found Oriana's white car landing from the skies.

I made it to her car door just as she opened it, revealing her smile, her happiness to see me again.

"Commander, is that you?" asked Oriana, beaming in softness.

"It's me, Oriana," I confirmed. "Your sister's waiting for you upstairs."

"You didn't have to come out here for me. Thank you so much. You're very sweet."

Dressed for the sunny weather, this rain had no doubt caught Oriana by surprise.

Miranda's sister complimented me more, as I took off this jacket, settling it over her shoulders instead.

She was happy to walk with me under the umbrella, as I escorted her to the apartment building.

"Sorry about what happened last time," she said, as a calm, gentle echo of her sister. "I was being silly. Trying to get her to come out of hiding. I knew she was there. _Somewhere._ I didn't mean to bother you."

"You didn't bother me," I replied. "Don't worry about it."

Oriana giggled softly. "You did seem a little flustered, you know."

"It was…a complicated situation."

"Yes, I'm sure it was."

Talking with her as we headed up the elevator, I noticed so many contrasts. Oriana's natural tenderness compared to Miranda; the stark differences in their temperaments. Miranda was such a hard woman. And for too many reasons. Reasons she'd managed to shield Oriana from, in choosing to rescue her, and give her this life with her family here on Illium. This was exactly what Miranda had wanted for her. But I could tell that there was something missing. A few pauses here and there in Oriana's speech. The faint wandering of her tone whenever she mentioned Miranda by name. Her many unanswered questions.

Once we made it to the 60th floor, heading down the hallways, I saw more of those questions.

Maybe she wondered about the possibilities: if she could've lived here with Miranda instead.

Whatever the case, I felt Oriana's awe over this place. Elevation and esteem.

_What could have been._

Entering Miranda's apartment, her sister's amazement swelled even more, well up to the high ceiling.

Miranda was already at the entrance. Waiting for us.

When she saw that I didn't have her jacket on anymore, I saw those worries growing.

But then she saw Oriana wearing it instead. And she saw my displays, as I took the jacket off from her sister's shoulders: mindful and courteous. Miranda knew what I'd done. Pure love for me filled her eyes.

Subtle enough, I stood off to the side, drying Miranda's umbrella and fastening it away.

Smiling in that softness, Oriana went over to her.

"Hello, there," she said. "It's wonderful to finally see you up-close. You have no idea."

Miranda tried to set her nerves aside. "The feeling's mutual… It's been such a long time. How are you?"

Oriana gave the simplest response, of giving her a warm hug.

Warmed by that warmth, Miranda smiled into their embrace. She smiled at me, too.

The two of them went to the living room together. Sitting on the couch, they spoke over tea, going over every single detail they could think of. I sat in Miranda's office at her computer, continuing my preparations for the mission tonight. Every now and then, I'd tuned back into their conversation. Even-toned and full of understanding, they listened to each other. They gave each other the benefit of the doubt. They forgave, and reasoned, and sympathized. They had such parity with one another, already, despite never having spoken before this day.

Miranda answered each of Oriana's questions truthfully. About why she rescued her from their father. About what had brought her to that decision. About how she'd done it, and when. And about how she'd chosen Oriana's current family, who still remained completely unaware. Miranda explained everything about Cerberus, and why she personally chose to join the organization, despite their terrible reputation. Oriana was shocked to learn of Miranda's personal struggles, but as with the rest, she quickly understood. She couldn't fault her older sister for those choices.

"It must've been awful for you, losing everything like that."

"It was. I never wanted you to go through the same thing. I'm glad you're okay here with your family."

Their conversation hit a wall over the current day. Miranda's current mission with me, with our team.

Maybe using the term _suicide mission_ was a bit much so soon. Even if it was the brutal, honest truth.

Because, again, Oriana understood. She knew that we had to deal with the Collectors; that this was important, and that it mattered. But learning the harsh reality still set her back. She stayed quiet enough, yet I knew her emotions had found her. And just as I had done earlier, Miranda took on my role, being that protector for her sister this time.

"I'm sorry. If I could stay here with you, then I absolutely would. I know this is a shock."

"No, it's all right… Your mission's important. You tried to shield me from your life. I see that now."

Less forthcoming, Miranda explained her reasons why. The reasons for that shielding, coddling.

Even though Oriana didn't like it, she chose not to complain. She simply asked if things could be different from this point forward. If they could stay in-touch from now on.

Miranda couldn't give her an answer. Not right away.

They both went quiet for a while.

Eventually, the day began to darken. The rain continued on. And our free time today was nearly over.

Filled with regret, Miranda told Oriana the truth. That she had to leave with me for a mission. She couldn't give the details. Only that it would be dangerous. Oriana understood, as always, but her sorrow remained. More silence punctured their moments together. This reality put a damper on things.

By the time we escorted Oriana back to her car, she managed to find more forgiveness. More understanding. More sympathy, more empathy. At the very least, Miranda offered her email address, promising to write back if Oriana messaged her. And Oriana promised she would write to her soon—after taking some time to think things over. No regrets: she embraced the both of us, Miranda and me both, showing her appreciation one last time. When she drove off, Miranda stood beneath this umbrella with me, at once glad for the catharsis of their meeting, and worried about the pressure this would bring. Pressure to do well, and to keep her sister from missing her loss. That many more reasons to do her best; and many, many more reasons to avoid making any irreversible mistakes, for her sister's sake.

* * *

Getting ready for the briefing—and the mission itself—I spent this extra time in my private cabin, alone.

Already in my stealth suit, I sat on my bed, staring up at the window space above. Illium's nighttime rain continued to fall, blurring the violet lights of the _Normandy's_ kinetic barriers. I already knew my shields would keep me dry from the storm. So I tried to factor in how this mission would go with the weather. Not every section of the Dantius Towers would be indoors. Especially at the very top—near Nassana's penthouse—where the construction took place, up near a bridge. The wind hazard up there was already a problem. Getting a team across with several Eclipse mercs in the way, with the rain causing even more hazards—it sounded like a disaster to me.

In the end, I found myself leaning on Vasir's advice to only bring a few people along.

Or maybe I could just handle this by myself. That was always an option.

Yet I worried that Miranda wouldn't let me go alone. She would insist on joining me no matter what.

With that obvious information in mind, I made my way down to the comm room.

And I recognized what felt like the end of an era. At least for these briefings before recruitment missions.

Officially, after we picked up Thane, Lieutenant James Vega was the last person on our list of dossiers. I didn't plan on making a big deal out of recruiting him. We would all go back to my hometown soon enough. I already let him know to expect us within the next week or so. The two of us would meet up, have a talk, and then I'd send him to the _Normandy._ Nothing more.

To that end, I soaked in the moment as I entered the comm room.

Everyone's sudden silence.

Everyone's reverence and respect for me. Especially Miranda as we made brief eye contact.

As I made my way to the head of the table, I took special note of the progress we'd made. Building our team from that very first briefing before Omega, with just Miranda and Legion with me: we'd nearly filled out the center table with this standing space. Miranda, Legion, Zaeed, Mordin, Garrus, Jack, Tali, Kaidan, Kasumi, EDI, and now Samara—they each stood at their respective spaces, in order of joining us.

Halfway to the suicide mission, after we took care of everyone's personal worries and concerns.

I estimated we would get through a dozen of those operations by late summer. Conservatively.

But, for now, Thane awaited.

I began the briefing:

"This is our final mission on Illium. We're here to pick up Thane Krios, a drell assassin. He was trained from childhood as an elite killer. Tonight, he's set his sights on Nassana Dantius, a corrupt businesswoman known for abusing her employees with slave labor contracts. She's holed up in her penthouse in the Dantius Towers, expecting a visit from Thane soon. I'm not interested in saving Nassana at all. What matters is that we find Thane before he escapes again. Nassana will have her Eclipse mercs everywhere. Going in as a full team isn't practical. We'll need to play it safe and smart.

"To that end, I'm not taking any risks. I want all of you to stay here. I'll go in and handle this myself. I've already mapped out a simple plan to reach Nassana's penthouse, while evading any Eclipse mercs in the way. It's only a matter of getting it done. It won't take me that long."

As I expected, Miranda objected—"Shepard, I can't let you do that! It's too dangerous for you to go by yourself. Nassana's defenses are top notch. Who knows what other traps she's set out? Ones you might not be aware of. This _is_ a risk and you know it."

I completely disagreed, but I wasn't about to argue with her in front of the whole team.

Besides, they all looked wary about this plan, too.

Despite the missions I'd handled as an infiltrator in the past—including the Citadel—they clearly didn't want me doing this alone.

I humored them, "Am I overruled?"

Almost everyone gave me a look that spoke for itself.

Kasumi proposed the exact backup plan I had in mind: "Hey, Shep, why don't you bring Miranda along? At the very least. If I heard right, I'm pretty sure you can cloak with her. Can't the two of you handle this as a team? That way, no one's left worrying about where you are."

"I have to agree," added Kaidan, even as Miranda looked uncertain. "Sure, you've soloed the _Citadel_ for God's sakes, but this is totally different. You shouldn't be by yourself unless it's unavoidable!"

EDI pointed out, "Your suggestions are sound, yet it would appear Miranda is unprepared."

Legion was more direct: "Operator Lawson lacks the experience Shepard-Commander possesses as an infiltrator."

Defensive, Miranda fought back, "It can't be that difficult. Shepard, you'll primarily be climbing through the vents, won't you? That's the path you've mapped out. If that's the case, then I can go with you."

"For the most part, yes," I replied. "Every now and then, we'll have to cloak and walk around the building to find the next set of vents to climb through. The main obstacle will be getting to Nassana's penthouse. It's directly across a bridge that's currently under construction. On top of the rain, the wind will make things difficult. Not to mention all the mercs stationed out there. Getting across is going to be a real challenge. I'm serious. If you come with me, Miranda, then I need you to be prepared for that."

"Understood, Commander," said Miranda, steeling her resolve. "I'm going with you. End of discussion."

"I'll allow it."

Kasumi encouraged, "Don't worry, Miranda. You've got this. You're a total Bond girl."

Jack snorted with laughter.

Baffled, Miranda said, _"James Bond?_ You think I'm…a Bond girl?"

"Yep. Biotics as gadgets. Weapons. And you're a superspy bombshell? You have the whole package."

By the look on Miranda's face, she didn't know whether to be offended or not.

"Speaking of that," I mentioned, "Since we're going to do this, we need some added distractions. Kasumi, EDI—I want you both on interference duty. Head to Tower One and create as many problems for the mercs as possible. Keep your cloaks up and stick together. Miranda and I will make our way through Tower Two to the bridge. With your distractions, the mercs near us should head over to your location. I doubt they'll clear up around the penthouse. This should help us get around more quickly."

"Of course, Commander," accepted EDI.

"Sure thing, Shep," said Kasumi. "EDI and I will do our best."

"Good. Miranda, EDI, and Kasumi—come with me to the armory and gear up. When we're done, we're going to meet Vasir at the cargo transfer level. She'll drive us to the Dantius Towers. Everyone else, head to the bridge with Joker. I'll link up my optical camera for you to watch our progress. Let's move out."

* * *

Right on time, Vasir picked us up in her car. I sat in the passenger's seat; Miranda stayed in the back with EDI and Kasumi. This rain pouring through the skies still hadn't let up, with no plans to stop any time soon. As we drove through Nos Astra's cityscape at night, Vasir continued filling us in:

"That clerk I mentioned, the one with details on Krios? Turns out she used to run security for Nassana. Conscience got the better of her once she found out a thing or two about her boss. Poor thing actually tried confronting Nassana about it, then ended up getting fired. I wouldn't say she has a bone to pick, but her information's good. Everything she's given me so far is legit."

"What else can you tell us?" I asked. "Mainly about the mercs, how they operate."

"They're high-tech killers," said Vasir. "Undisciplined, but very well-equipped. They don't much care who they kill, as long as they're paid for it. But, the second you present them with a real challenge, they'll get too aggressive. Same thing you went through at Deep Azure last night. So if you plan on distracting them in Tower One, make them think you're weak. As long as they feel like they have the upper-hand, they'll let their guard down. Probably get bored and start goofing off. It'll be much easier to sneak past them."

EDI decided, "Kasumi and I will need to make apparent errors in our distraction attempts."

"That'll be easy," agreed Kasumi. "We can make it look like we're amateurs. Draw them into a trap. For as long as we can, anyway. After that, we'll have to get creative."

"I trust you two to handle it," I told them. "Vasir, do you have any other intel on Thane?"

"Not much," replied Vasir. "He allegedly said he's not doing the hit for money. Nobody hired him. The clerk wanted to know who she was helping, and he said he's doing this job on his own. That he had to 'restore the balance of his life.' It's why I'm convinced he's trying to atone for something he's done. Or maybe he's just crazy. I don't know."

Miranda pointed out, "I doubt he's lost his mind. Thane sounds like a spiritual person."

"Hmm, true. I hadn't thought of that."

Just in our view, the Dantius Towers appeared, looming clear over everything else in the near distance.

Vasir went on, "You know the drill, Commander. You and Lawson will head up Tower Two, and cross the bridge to the penthouse. Once I drop you off, I'll take your teammates to Tower One for their operation. I'm glad you're taking the stealth option this time around. The Eclipse mercs will be well-fortified by now. As long as you're able to stay hidden, you should be fine. It's just that bridge you'll need to worry about."

"All right. Let's do this."

"Hold on."

Taking us in, Vasir landed at the well-lit entrance, raindrops pouring down over the bright pavement.

I exited her car, helping Miranda out the backseat. EDI and Kasumi gave us their reassurance.

"Don't linger too long," warned Vasir. "They'll be here to greet you soon enough. Good luck, you two."

"Thank you, Vasir," responded Miranda.

Once I closed the car doors, Vasir took off, getting Kasumi and EDI to their destination across the way.

Not wasting any time, I held Miranda's hand in mine, cloaking us both to invisibility. Off to the side, I spotted the vent we needed to access first. And I was about to activate my optical camera and call the team via radio; get everyone in on our progress. But something told me to wait before doing any of that.

Just overhead, the Dantius Towers lettering lit up our immediate area in a light blue. That light surrounded Miranda's transparent form, glimmering in the rainfall, just as it did to mine. Behind us, around us, the rest of Illium raised up through the night skies, those buildings and windows and skycars in winding lines of traffic, all reminding us of where we were. With our surroundings, I saw Miranda's form, the shape of her face—how she stared up at me, the roundness of her eyes wide in surprise. Or maybe not _surprise._ Some type of temporary emotion, preceding her preparedness for this mission.

Now more than ever, Miranda needed my guidance. We had to move quickly, but I couldn't rush her.

I gave her the rundown: "We'll mostly be moving through the vents. They'll take us up several floors at a time. Then we'll find our way to at least one elevator. With EDI and Kasumi creating those distractions, we should only run into a few Eclipse mercs here and there. Should be easy enough to slip past them. Once we make it to the highest level, that's when we'll head for the bridge. I'll need to analyze the best way for us to get to the penthouse from there."

Miranda steadied herself. "All right… I'll follow your lead. I take it you don't expect us to fight anyone."

"If everything goes well, then combat should be off the table. We won't need to fire a single shot."

"Here's hoping. How will we escape the penthouse later? Nassana's mercenaries won't just let us go."

I knew she wouldn't like this—"We'll escape out the window."

_"You don't mean…?"_

"We're going to jump, Miranda. The nearest landing spot is less than two kilometers down. You upgraded my Icarus Landing System to handle heights like these. Now's the perfect time for a test run."

Anyone else would've lost their nerve.

Miranda nearly staggered back, but she centered herself again. Leaning on her trust in me—she accepted what was to come. But she still chose to be honest about her feelings.

"I might be having a few regrets," she admitted. "Truth be told, my best asset as an infiltrator comes from providing information. Not actually being in the field like this. I'm worried I'll only slow you down."

"This is an exercise in trust. I think it's something we both need. You know exactly why."

"You're right. We should get moving, then. I'm ready."

"Okay. I'll start up my optical camera for the team. Just keep your radio on for the audio."

"Of course."

Activating the audio and video feeds, I contacted the others.

"Joker, do you copy? Can everyone see from my eyes on your end?"

 _"We got you loud and clear, Commander!"_ confirmed Joker. _"The live feed looks good, too. Hey, is that Miranda in front of you? She's actually invisible like you are?!"_

"Yes, Joker, it's me," said Miranda.

_"Dude, that's like magic or something. Still can't believe it."_

_"I know, right?"_ agreed Jack. _"Useful as hell, too. Know how much damage I could do if I was invisible?"_

_"Uhh…think I'd rather not know."_

Kasumi informed us, _"EDI and I are almost in position, by the way. We're heading to our first target."_

 _"Yes, we're making progress,"_ said EDI. _"We are also keeping a visual on you and Miranda via omni-tool. Knowing your exact location will help us to plan accordingly."_

"Keep us updated," I ordered. "Everyone else, I want radio silence as much as possible. We need to concentrate on what's in front of us. So keep the chatter to a minimum. Am I clear?"

The rest of the team responded with some variant of, _"Understood, Commander."_

Just as I was about to lead Miranda to that vent, something caught my eye across the way:

A few salarian workers fled from one direction, all together. Right behind them, LOKI and FENRIS mechs followed after them. They shot the terrified workers in the back, murky green of their blood spattering everywhere as they collapsed. The dog mechs finished off the job, pinning down the ones still fleeing. I barely heard their screams over the sounds of the rain. And I already knew none of them would make it.

Miranda stopped herself from going over there.

"Did Nassana send her mechs after the workers? Just because she could?!"

"There's nothing we can do for them now… Come on. Let's get moving."

Wordless, she followed after me, keeping her hand in mine.

We crawled our way through this first vent, with Miranda staying behind me. I knew to pace myself so she could keep up. This limited space—and the need to stay quiet, to keep from making too much noise—had already started taxing her. Miranda did the best she could, keeping up with my already-limited pace for her sake. But if there was any not-so-experienced person I'd want with me, it would always be her. She knew how to adapt; even as I began moving faster up a sloped ramp, Miranda pushed herself even more. As capable as she was, I trusted her to learn on the job, better than anyone else could have. I stayed hyper-aware of her energy levels nonetheless. I couldn't push her too hard yet.

The main issue Miranda created was noise.

_A lot of noise._

She tried to stay quiet. But in between her muttered cursing over the cramped space, or the occasional pain from the constant crawling, she wasn't as silent as she could've been. I was glad Kasumi and EDI had those distractions going, as they'd already updated us about. If not for them, the Eclipse mercs would have heard us a long time ago. We would've been detected by now, causing too many problems.

Just to give her a break, I diverted us to the main floor space of our current landing. This stark lighting and dark shadows—plenty of space around, and a long set of picture windows close by, overlooking the city. We could use this mezzanine to stretch our legs. Still cloaked, we climbed out from the vent. Ever-so-slight, I heard those extra reminders from Miranda's heels: the other impediments to her career as an infiltrator. As much as I loved her style, it wasn't her best asset right now. Not by a long-shot.

And I heard quite a few mercs across the way, chatting while on-duty.

There was a cargo elevator on the other side. We needed to go up several floors. Taking the vents at this pace wouldn't be enough. We would only end up losing Thane at this rate. We had to take the risk.

I picked Miranda up, carrying her in my arms. "Stay quiet. Cover your breathing if you have to."

"All right," she whispered, covering her nose and mouth.

One step at a time, I walked out to the open area. Dozens of mercs were stationed there, the yellow and white of their uniforms making them stand out in this lighting. They socialized with their guns drawn, cracking jokes with each other. Not a single one of them noticed me walking around them, carrying Miranda as I went. I trusted in my tactical cloak, relieved for these extra upgrades. No migraines, no pain from staying invisible for too long, I could keep going like this for as long as I had to. As was necessary.

Completely unnecessary, the mercs kept on joking around, their voices sounding as an echo in here.

"Hey—I think he went in there," said one of the human troopers, speaking of Thane.

"Well, go get him," kidded one of the asari vanguards.

"You go."

"You're lucky I don't have to take you seriously. Nassana's not paying us to stand around."

"She's not paying us to do _anything._ Thank God. You hear about the mess going on in Tower One? Some kids must be playing pranks over there. You couldn't pay me enough to deal with that crap!"

"You're telling me. I'd rather chase after these stupid shadows instead."

Still walking around the groups, sticking to the perimeter: I followed the windows to a larger area. The elevator was in sight. Making up for the mercs' laziness, several mechs were on patrol, pacing around.

I steered clear of the mechs and their scans.

Eyes set on the elevator, I stayed mindful of the mercenaries ambling along behind us. Meanwhile, Miranda measured her breathing. She pressed her face closer to my chest, muffling herself against the material of my stealth suit. I held her a little tighter, reassuring her without words as best as I could. More than that, I felt the tenseness among the team as they watched us. I knew how badly they wanted to say something; to ask how I was able to do this. Thinking and acting as a ghost came naturally to me.

As this ghost, I kept blending into our surroundings.

Even while this group of mercs kept on, obviously making their way to the cargo elevator.

Miranda knew where this was going—she braced herself, gripping me around my shoulders.

Still joking around with each other, one of the mercs pressed the button to hail the elevator. Going up, thankfully. But I felt the team tensing again, on the other end of the line. Their quieted expressions of shock and awe: they weren't entirely sure I could pull this off. Yet I had to. There was no other way.

Entering the cargo elevator with the mercs, I knew to stay away from them. The view of Illium from these heights stayed right at my back, outside the glass just behind me. The rain sweated along those windows as much as I could have, should have. I remembered my training. I remembered my resolve.

As the mercs laughed and cajoled each other, I slipped into a far corner with Miranda. She stiffened her body to keep from shaking. Those enclosed echoes of voices, laughter, mocking—they bounced all around us, creating even more movement in this tight space. Tighter than all, Miranda held onto me as tightly as she could, tighter and tighter as the moments passed. The elevator took us to the upper levels, right to where we needed to go. I focused on the reality. Miranda focused on her breathing—breathing right against my N7 logo over my chest, warming me through this material, heating my skin underneath.

As the perfect distraction, Nassana contacted them via radio, demanding an update.

The mercs all rolled their eyes, already of the mind to start bullshitting her.

 _"Where the hell is the assassin?!"_ shouted Nassana.

"He's all over the place," claimed another trooper.

_"What do you mean?"_

Another one clearly lied, ribbing his neighbor in jest—"We've got reports of him on multiple levels. We think he's traveling through the ducts…"

_"Don't lie to me! Get your asses back to level one! I've lost teams down there. Find them or you're next!"_

"Right away, Nassana…"

While the mercenaries groaned and commiserated, I sharpened my focus. The cargo elevator continued heading up. I darted my eyes around, observing; measuring every inch of distance between Miranda and me and them. No one went to elevator panel. No one pressed the button to change their destination.

One of the mercs went over to the panel. She hovered her hand over the button for _level one._ "Come on, guys. We'd better get down there. I don't wanna hear her mouth about it later."

"Man, screw her! No matter what we do, she's gonna bitch about it anyway."

"Yeah, but the less time she spends moaning and complaining, the more we get paid. Remember?"

"I guess so…"

The elevator arrived at the top level.

The door opened.

The mercs played _will they or won't they,_ moving to the door, then retreating back inside.

They kept this up, and their jokes, for what felt like hours.

I took the next risk and moved—slinking around them, slowly. Suffocating any wind from my movements with Miranda. Reinforcing her stiffness, her tenseness, solid as a statue of stone in my hold. I moved with her as one the whole way. Well until I made it out the elevator, and the mercs finally decided to stop fucking around. Out of an abundance of caution, I waited along the side wall. Leaning there. Staying there for now. Waiting, staying, and listening as they convinced themselves to follow orders, pressing the button at last.

The elevator closed, shutting away their lingering conversations with it.

Those echoes carried back down, gone for good.

I heard some other merc's voice, but not near enough to turn into a problem.

Miranda muttered against my shoulder, "Set me down, please… I need to stand."

I did as she said, moving as carefully as I could. She leaned against this wall, taking a few minutes. Uncloaking as well, I let Miranda return to reality in a way. She needed to stand; she needed to see herself. I couldn't blame her at all. But that lone merc's voice nearby gave me cause for concern. I signaled for Miranda to stay here, while I went to investigate.

Standing by a window, facing the glass, the merc communicated with someone else over his radio. He was so focused on his conversation; he didn't spot my reflection through the glass, transposed over the outside towers lighting up the night.

I approached him from behind, listening.

"I haven't heard from Teams Four of Five," he said, pacing around in casual movements. "Don't worry, my team is always ready to go… I don't know where he is, not yet. We might need reinforcements up here pretty soon. I'll take care of it… It's under control. I'll go down there myself."

Miranda couldn't help herself. She walked over here, the sounds of her heels giving us both away.

Picking up on those clicking sounds, the merc froze in place.

I had no choice. If he called for those reinforcements, they would only get in our way.

I told him, "Turn around, very slowly."

Alert now, Miranda aimed her sidearm at him.

Facing me over his shoulder, the trooper cursed—"Damnit!"

"Tell me where the assassin is, and I might let you live."

Facing us now, he backed away. I stepped closer to him. Closer to the window. "If I knew that, I wouldn't be wasting my time talking to you. You're not one of Nassana's mercs. Who are you?" Then he got a better look at Miranda next to me. "Oh, you're _definitely_ not one of Nassana's people. She has a strict dress code. Actual _armor,_ for one. There's no way she'd let anyone whore around in that outfit."

I stepped even closer to him—menacing, threatening: _"Tell me where the assassin is."_

"I've got nothing more to say to you—"

I shoved him straight through the window. Glass shattering, he fell all the way down to those depths. Screaming for his life through the rain; limbs flailing in that loss of control.

Sneering down in his wake, I taunted, "How 'bout _'goodbye.'"_

Miranda scoffed over the inconvenience. "They're just too predictable at this point."

"I know. Come on. We're almost to the bridge."

"With you, Shepard."

Spotting several enemy signatures on my radar, we had to return to our stealth. I held Miranda's hand again, cloaking with her; leading her through the next door. Nassana's mercs stayed clustered in the center of the huge, open area—congregating together, socializing together, just like the last group. Normally, we would've crawled through the vents again. But with the rainstorm still ongoing, those overhead sounds masked Miranda's footsteps. I found it easier for us to circle the perimeter instead.

Walking around all the cargo everywhere, I took special care to avoid the mechs again. They were the only ones actually _working._ Still avoiding them, Miranda and I eventually rounded a corner, reaching a ramp leading upward. As we went, we passed by a console, with Nassana's voice shouting at the top of her lungs. The mercs just ignored her.

_"Where is everyone?"_

_"Will somebody please give me a report!"_

_"Answer me, damnit."_

_"Somebody get down there and find out what's going on!"_

I was tempted to mock her through the console, but that would've blown our cover.

I continued on with Miranda up the ramp—up to the highest level at last.

Construction ongoing, several walls and roofs remained unfinished. Several cargo boxes and support beams everywhere, this place opened up to the storm, bright lights shining through the cascading rain. As with before, that rain masked our sounds. Again I guided Miranda near the walls, away from the mercs up here. Not quite fucking around like the other teams downstairs, these groups took more to standing still with their weapons out. Grumbling over the rain pouring down over their shields and barriers, they stared out at the city's view, wishing they were anywhere else but here.

I guided Miranda along a wide walkway lined with construction vehicles, with a view of the city along our left side. We skirted around the mercs, who kept having to shout at each other over the rain. Even for a simple update that there were no updates, Miranda and I kept hearing, _"What?!"_ or _"I can't fucking hear you! Speak up!"_ every few seconds. They eventually started clustering together, giving us another advantage. We moved faster, with Miranda's heels a complete non-issue at this point.

Finally, we arrived to the bridge leading to Nassana's penthouse. The penthouse itself, I observed just across the way, raising up past these half-completed structures and beams. At this altitude, and in this storm, the winds were most severe along the bridge. The small army of mercs populating the bridge itself—they had to hang onto the cargo nearby just to stay in place.

Miranda spoke right into my ear, "Shepard, we should be able to get across. The wind will be a problem. You'll need to hold on to me."

"Hold on to _you?"_

"The wind is strong enough to blow you away. If you were alone, it would have."

Taking a closer look, I saw that she was right.

I couldn't have accounted for something like this when I'd made my plans earlier.

Guiding my arms as needed, Miranda moved to my left side, opposite the wind's direction. She made sure I held onto her body. She then latched her grip around my back, my shoulders, supporting me. We then set off across the bridge. And as soon as those gusts hit us, I tensed my whole body, feeling what could have happened. This sudden slip that could have been, this feeling of being thrust away, how I almost could have: only by the grace of Miranda's foresight did she save me from that possibility. She grounded me. She gripped me, steeling me still with her. Cementing.

And then she made us keep moving.

One step at a time, Miranda led us across. We moved around the mercs glued to their rigid placements. They all kept holding on to the cargo, refusing to move an inch. Their heavy armor kept them rooted enough, but they weren't up for taking any chances. Whenever they seemed to consider moving, all they had to do was look down and around, and they changed their minds. All around us, the night skies held the long drops of those consequences. Skycar traffic wound through the city at a blistering rate, raised well above those same drops. And the windows of Nos Astra's towers and skyscrapers stared at us through the night, watching; waiting for someone to slip up and fall way down.

Every time I should've gone flying off this bridge, I felt myself pushing against Miranda's fortitude instead. She only breathed harder against me each time, holding me tighter, and then kept us going. As ever, I felt the team's attention on us through my optical camera. Their bated breath. Their anticipation. Even their sense of novelty, knowing that I'd never specifically relied on anyone like this before. Not to this extent. Not to this extreme, with my life hanging in the balance, barring an emergency landing with my augmentations. All between these gusts blustering in one direction, and Miranda acting as an impassable wall on my other side.

Kasumi and EDI simply let us know that they had to retreat from their position. On their way back to the ship, I figured this was best. But even if I wanted to order them otherwise, I couldn't make myself speak.

Miranda knew exactly how I felt.

She spoke low enough to keep the radio from picking up her voice:

"I've got you, Shepard."

For this short moment, I stopped tensing. I actually let her hold me. My pride didn't matter anymore.

By the time we made it across, we had some free space to catch our breath. Here in a corner by these stairs, our target was just through the next door. My radar picked up on a couple of hostile signatures ahead, with several more inside the penthouse. But there was someone else up above, inside, crawling through the vents. Friendly. It had to be Thane. Perfect timing.

Miranda and I went up the short flight of stairs. Slipping past these last few mercs, we entered the door.

Within the dry, safe space of Nassana's penthouse, I analyzed our surroundings. The moon's eye of the cloudy, stormy evening shined through the windows around the perimeter. Normal living space filled with Eclipse mercs everywhere: Nassana stood right at the fore of the area, behind a long console, paranoid and pacing around. Surrounded by guards as she was, their shields glowing in the moonlight, Nassana couldn't stop her habits. Looking over her shoulder. Staring out to the skyline, expecting her killer soon.

Knowing where this was going, I uncloaked.

Miranda appeared as normal with me.

Walking side by side, we approached Nassana and her guards. She turned to face us, just as her mercs drew their weapons our way. After a brief moment, she quickly recognized us both.

"Shepard. Lawson," said Nassana, with such disdain. "I should've known it was you."

Miranda mocked her, "How wonderful to see you again, Nassana. Your little temper tantrum at the restaurant the other night didn't escape my notice. You know exactly why you're in this position, don't you?"

"Of course I do! And now you're here to kill me."

"Maybe I just missed you."

Nassana blew her off—"Screw you, Lawson."

"Charming as ever," teased Miranda.

"I'm sure you and Shepard find this all very ironic. I asked her to find my sister years ago. To take care of her. And now you're here for me… Well, you've made it this far. Now what?"

I couldn't believe her. "You really think we're here to kill you?"

"Do you have another reason for destroying my tower? Sneaking your way up here without a peep?"

"We're just looking for someone."

Not hearing Thane's obvious racket overhead, Nassana glared at me. "You expect me to believe that?" He made a little more noise. Probably as a signal for Miranda and me. "Is it credits? Is that what you want? Just tell me your price! We can make this problem go away."

"Nassana, you already tried this before. You couldn't buy me then, and you still can't buy me now."

More sounds from the vents up above. Nassana's mercs pointed their weapons in every which direction.

"What?" sniped Nassana.

"I heard something," said one of the commandos.

"Damnit. Check the other entrances!"

Just as the commando ran off, the other mercs grew distracted, confused. They lost their focus.

Slipping down from the ceiling as a quieted, quickened shadow, Thane landed on the floor.

Not knowing any better, Nassana stared us down. "You… Stay put." Focused, exacting—Thane cupped his hand around a merc's mouth, twisting their neck in near-silence. Punching another merc at a precise point, he took them out, then pulled out a gun. "When I'm finished dealing with this nuisance, you and I are going to…"

Thane shot a third mercenary dead. Full of momentum, he turned his velocity around to Nassana herself, moving her gun arm out of the way. He set the barrel of his own gun at her abdomen.

_"Who…?"_

Thane fired his weapon.

Blood spattering, Nassana bent over, with the cradle of her neck along Thane's shoulder. Careful, and full of compassion, he set her body down over the console. As Nassana drew her last breaths, Thane folded her arms over her front. Leaving her there in such a peaceful position, shadowed by Thane's form before the rainy moonlight. He lowered his head in prayer—hands clasped in front of him, eyes closed.

Spirituality.

He carried himself with such a cold confidence, blending with that piety.

As a sign of my own mysticism, I had the worst feeling about this person standing across from me.

Thane remained as he was, focused on prayer. The dull shine of his black and gray, fitted, suit-like outfit gave him a look of distinction. Professionalism. The green tones of his skin—or scales—and the shape of his hairless head, the webs of his hands keeping his fingers together: completely alien, but still familiar enough for me to place. This man had clearly seen a lot in his life. Experienced a lot. Learned a lot of harsh lessons; and maybe, just maybe, he hadn't fully learned to live with each one of his demons.

This quiet sense of foreboding I felt: like a long, long calm before the storm. Even with the rain outside.

Glad that the threat was over, I told him, "I figured you'd show up when you did." Thane kept on praying. "Hey! I just snuck through this whole place looking for you. The least you can do is look at me."

"I apologize," sounded Thane's calm, gravelly voice. "But prayers for the wicked must not be forsaken."

Miranda remarked, "She certainly was wicked."

Thane held in such a weight of guilt and shame. "Not her. For me."

His wide eyes stared through me, black as an abyss. That single look filled me with such depths of mistrust. Meanwhile, I felt the measure of Miranda's attention: she sympathized with him instead.

"The measure of an individual can be difficult to discern by actions alone. Take you, for instance. The way you snuck through an entire tower without alerting a single guard." He walked away from Nassana, from the console—Thane gave me such a peaceable look, as if to lecture me. I bit back the full menace of my scowl. "After what you achieved on the Citadel, I should not be surprised. That you managed to repeat your efforts with a non-infiltrator at your side… It is a testament to your skills. Even I had difficulty tracking you tonight. I was curious to see how far you'd go to find me. Well…here I am."

Still holding myself back, I asked him, "How did you know I was coming at all?"

"I didn't. Not until your colleagues began making a ruckus over in Tower One. They provided a fine distraction, allowing you and your partner to slip by undetected. Nassana had become paranoid. You saw the strength of her guards. She believed one of her sisters would kill her. She did not expect me."

"Let's cut to the chase," I said. "I need you for a mission."

"Indeed?"

"You're familiar with the Collectors?"

"By reputation," replied Thane, pensive.

"They're abducting entire human colonies. Freedom's Progress and Horizon were their handiwork."

"…I see."

Noticing Thane's lowered energy, I went on, "We're going after them."

"Attacking the Collectors would require passing through the Omega 4 Relay. No ship has ever returned from doing so."

"My ship will be the first."

Thane stared out at the cityscape, questioning me—"You'd like me to protect humans I've never met, from aliens no one knows anything about, by going to a place no one's ever returned from?"

"Yeah. That's the gist of it."

"Some time ago…a job like this would've been my last." Eclipsed by the cloudy moon, Thane told us what we already knew: "I was dying. Once. I moved past my illness, yet those dark days have left their mark on my spirit. Low survival odds don't concern me. The abduction of your colonists does. Besides, the universe is a dark place. I'm trying to make it brighter before I die. Eventually. Someday. Many innocent workers also died here today. I wasn't fast enough, and they suffered. I must atone for that—and much more. I will work for you, Shepard. No charge."

Sounded to me like Thane's quest for atonement would always take precedent.

If he wanted to chase his guilt away by going after the Collectors, that was his decision.

Yet I resolved to keep his true priorities in mind. When push came to shove, we'd see how he behaved.

"Let's wrap this up on the _Normandy,"_ I ordered. "Do you have a way out of here?"

"Yes, you needn't worry. I will await you and your partner back at your ship."

Just like that, Thane slipped off into another vent.

Miranda gave a pleasant hum. "He's quite the character." I moved up ahead to the windows, planning our escape. "Shepard, are we really going to do this? I know you need to test your landing system's upgrades… I wish you could do it in a more controlled environment instead."

I held her hand, knowing that the team still watched us. "This is as controlled as it gets, babe."

"You're right. I suppose it's my turn to trust you again. I'm ready when you are."

From the top of this tower almost the size of a Reaper, I kicked the nearest window, breaking it open.

Errant shards of glass flew away as shattered specs in the rain. I stared down at the drop, finding the vague sight of our intended landing spot down below. On the other end of the radio, I heard some of the team groaning and panicking—quietly—over the sharp drop. I'd obviously never jumped from a place this high before. This was practically skydiving in the middle of a metropolis. But now was the time.

As I picked Miranda up again, carrying her in my arms, I heard the team's growing rumblings.

I could clearly picture Joker covering his eyes with his cap. _"Aw, crap, here we go…"_

Even Mordin seemed uncertain. _"Length of fall appears…problematic."_

Nervous, Garrus interjected, _"Hey, Shepard, are you_ sure _about this…?"_

Cloaking with Miranda again—just in case—I walked closer to the gap in the window.

Kasumi barely controlled her own nerves. _"Well, this is…something else."_

 _"No kidding,"_ muttered Kaidan.

EDI speculated with facts: _"The commander's Icarus Landing System allows her to safely survive falls from up to two kilometers. That is the approximate height of a capital-class Reaper ship. The Dantius Towers are within this estimated range. It is all but guaranteed that she and Miranda will be fine."_

Samara pointed out, _"This may be true, yet the rest of the team remains unassured. I must also admit to some apprehension on my end. You and Legion are the only ones holding on to these logical details."_

 _"Yeah, no shit!"_ exclaimed Jack. _"If it were anyone else, they'd die from a fall like that!"_

I leaned my weight and momentum with Miranda out the window, taking this leap of faith with her.

In seconds, I heard Zaeed's grunting panic— _"Son of a bitch!"_ —and Tali's barely-muffled scream of fright.

They just had to see this for themselves.

Falling through the city's night, life and time and space went on as normal. Traffic went on; the rain went on; civilians went on their way along the walkways in my view. No one noticed me. Unseen, I sped down through the air with Miranda safely in my arms. She forced herself to keep breathing, to stay calm, finding remarkable success. Just as our shields kept the rain away, she found her own Zen with me.

I sensed her feelings, as sure as our continued falling:

Even if we died, Miranda could accept it. This was the only way she wanted to go out. _With me._

If it happened now, tonight—she'd found her peace with the possibility.

I had to wonder if Thane's premature influence had something to do with this.

I wondered, but there was no need. These winds brushed past us with such speed. Alarming alacrity in any other situation—even as much as my omni-tool's alerts went off, warning me of the dangers. Past that panicking, mechanical and from our teammates in our ears, Miranda stayed warm with me. Warm even in this chilly, rainy night, as my emotional support. Emotional support with me as her life support: I cherished the feel of her on me, the backs of her closed eyes along my neck. Her steadied breathing over my collar. Her arms draped in tightness around my shoulders, mostly relaxed with me like this.

Miranda gave me the focus I needed to finish this right.

Our landing spot within reach, my systems activated automatically.

Decelerating, that familiar golden glow surrounded Miranda and me both, joined as one for this. The electromagnetic field helped to slow us to an exact velocity, as if landing from a simple jump. Fall damage negated, I landed with knees bent as my hydraulics, completely unscathed.

As I set Miranda back down, letting her stand as normal, I deactivated our tactical cloak.

Knowing the others watched her through my eyes, too shocked to speak, Miranda smiled at me anyway.

Gently playful, she stroked my face. "My hero."

I felt my neck heating in this chill. She noticed, smiling even more.

"Come on, let's get back to the ship," she suggested. Hands interlaced, we made our way to the nearest rapid transit station.

* * *

Returning to the _Normandy_ with Miranda and Thane, I spotted the change everywhere.

We entered the debriefing room among this change. The team had spread out to their usual spots ahead of time. They'd clearly shared their tales and gossip with each other: their smiles met me, _specifically,_ as I entered the room. While they spotted Miranda's uncharacteristic lightness, they chose instead to focus on me. And I could barely look at them. I masked everything well enough behind my usual attitude. But their attention on me felt stuffy, stifling. Like I was in the middle of a scorching room.

I knew Miranda was amused by the changes. That little smile on her gorgeous face said as much.

But I hated giving people something to talk about. I preferred…staying invisible to that kind of thing.

Taking my place at the head of the table, I did my best to push all of that aside. It wasn't important.

Thane remained dutiful at my side, next to Miranda. He kept his hands behind his back, shoulders straight. Privately scoping out the energy in the room. I saw that slight glimmer of joy in his dark eyes.

"Thane needs no introduction. We've seen him at work; we've seen what he does. I'm sure he'll be another valuable asset. No one should worry about having an assassin watch their back. He and I are the same in what we do. The only real difference between us is that I can cloak, and he can't."

I looked at Thane, and found his gratitude.

But I hardly believed my own words. I wanted to give him the benefit of the doubt—especially since Miranda seemed impressed by him.

My instincts kept telling me something else, even as I held my hand out to him.

He could never know.

"Welcome to the team, Thane."

"Thank you, Shepard," he said, shaking my hand in a firm, precise grip. "I believe an assassin is a weapon. A weapon doesn't choose to kill. The one who wields it does. To that end, my arm is yours."

Miranda agreed with him. "A wise assessment."

"I would hope so. Where shall I put my things? I'd prefer someplace dry, if anything is available. Though I have conquered Kepral's Syndrome with medical aid, my prognosis shall only hold if I am careful to avoid humid locations. Prolonged exposures could prove to be my undoing."

EDI informed him: "The area near the life support plant on the crew deck tends to be slightly more arid than the rest of the ship."

"Ah. An AI in a mech's body? My thanks."

I continued on, "Now that our business on Illium is finished, it's time for us to move on soon. I'm waiting for an email from Councilor Anderson about our next mission against the Collectors. I should hear from him within the next few days. That'll give Samara and Thane some time to get settled in first. After our meeting with the Council on the Citadel, they're going to keep us on-call until the next mission begins. It's happened before and I fully expect it to happen again."

Garrus, Tali, and Kaidan knew exactly what I meant.

"For our next diversion, after meeting with the Council, we'll head to my hometown on Earth. Our 'final' recruit, Lieutenant James Vega from the Alliance, is waiting for us there. We'll remain on standby in the city until we have to head out. It'll essentially be another round of shore leave. Since we're facing the Collectors again pretty soon, I think we'll need the extra break. But our immediate focus is the Citadel."

Legion noticed, "Your emphasis on the word _final_ is noteworthy. Does Shepard-Commander expect to discover more recruits?"

"Who knows. Maybe saying _final_ is just a fantasy. There could be more surprises down the line."

Everyone exchanged glances, wondering if that was true or not.

In reality, I wanted them to be prepared for anything that came up. Like always.

Sensing Miranda's hopes and intentions for tonight, I wrapped up the debriefing:

"We'll leave tomorrow morning. If there's any last minute plans you have for Illium, now's your chance to get them done. Just make sure to be back here by nine sharp. You're all free until then. Dismissed."

The rest of the team, except Miranda, made their way out the comm room. Thane bowed to me, likely on his way to check the life support room first. Jack looked particularly glad for the extra night out on Illium. Everyone else had their own plans for the evening as well. They wanted to make the most of it.

Once we were alone, Miranda came up to me.

Pleasant, loving—she gazed at me so deeply, knowing I couldn't return her intensity at a time like this.

She seemed to _like_ my shyness. For some reason.

"I'm going to shower in my room," she let me know, running her hand down my arm. "Meet me on the bridge a little later on. Let's head back to my apartment for the night. One last time. At least for now."

Making my way back to my own room, I took a shower, too. Cleaning off the day, the mission. Thinking everything over. And I had never felt closer to Miranda, really. The way she'd saved me—the way we'd saved each other—would always stay with me, near and dear to my heart. But I found myself worrying, much like she had earlier. About these positives possibly getting balanced out by some kind of negatives.

She and I both had a difficult time accepting a good thing in front of us.

Or maybe she didn't anymore. Not after today. Not after speaking with Oriana, and the rest.

Of course, in the very back of my mind, I feared that the past would repeat itself.

Every time I felt Miranda's essence seeping deeper into my heart, I felt myself growing fearful. But that was all the more reason to keep her by my side. I'd already made my promises to her. There was no turning back now.

In the spirit of loving courage, I looked forward to seeing her again. Spending this night with her, too. Sex was still off the table, as it needed to be, and so I checked my expectations accordingly. I dressed myself in a pair of jeans and my black N7 hoodie. And then I went down to the bridge, finding Miranda there waiting for me already. We left the ship together one more time, going back out to Illium's night.

Taking the rapid transit to her apartment again, I held Miranda close to me once more. Her mood hadn't changed at all. In fact, it had only improved. She leaned her head against my shoulder, speaking in a soft joy:

"I've already emailed the Illusive Man about the mission. Our legal representatives will deal with the public damage to the Dantius Towers. Not that it matters much—Nassana can't hold us liable while she's dead. But someone else is bound to take her place for the company. Funnily enough, the stocks in her corporation have gone up with the news of her death. I can't help but find the irony oddly satisfying."

Just that single, off-hand mention of the Illusive Man was enough to dim my optimism.

Back in the dark calm of Miranda's apartment, I took in these surroundings one more time. Looking around, noticing the longevity around: the cleanliness of Miranda's home marked her measured temperament. How she would clean and clean, keeping everything at a regal means, if it meant reaming her personal problems away from the scene. This scene, of the heavy, framed photographs of me: I helped Miranda put them back over the walls in their respective spaces, these places having seemed so barren without them there.

This chore was my way of saying goodbye to Miranda's home—for now.

Upon my insistence, Miranda sat on her couch as I worked. She spoke to me idly from her seat—"Thank you for giving us time to do this. We may not have the chance to return here for a long while. Not until the suicide mission is over, and we're finished dealing with the Collectors. Unless something unexpected brings us back before then." Idle as she was, we were still on the same wavelength. "You know, I'm also grateful we're waiting a little longer to have sex. I needed to have a day like this with you. Before anything more happened. I didn't know it until now. I'm glad we can go through adversity and come back together, stronger than the day before. You are my rock."

"I feel the same way," I expressed.

Miranda hummed in uncertainty. "You don't think I'm clingy, do you?"

"Not at all. Even if you were, I wouldn't mind. I want you to be real with me. Always."

As I placed the fifth and final photo in its place, I noticed a new detail that had eluded me before.

There at the bottom of the frame, engraved were the words: _'And Love You Shall Find.'_

The picture itself was of me, dressed as an androgynous model…staring off at the distance. Searching.

Searching for Miranda in hindsight. Without realizing it.

Having held onto this dream, Miranda ambled over to my side. She wrapped both of her arms around mine nearest to her. Settling her head along my shoulder, Miranda radiated such hopefulness, as a bright spot in this stormy night. Resting here in place, she let me feel everything about her. Unfiltered.

"Shepard…you are my life support. _Truly,_ you are."

Giving her feelings life, and giving her life to me—Miranda's sentimentality burned this moment in my memory. I stared at those words. I stared at the engravings of her hopes, her dreams. And I upheld their fruition, holding her close to me. Without a doubt, I knew she would never leave me. If only I could rid myself of these other burnings in my eyes, then I could be perfect for her. Nevertheless, she dedicated herself to patience. Patiently waiting for my heart to fully be hers, forever. Patiently hoping to keep _us_ as her life's work, her wholehearted endeavor.

Somewhere, past the expanse, Shiala's earlier words reached me through this silence.

_Someone waiting for me._

Someone…and I would find out soon enough.


	45. Apollo

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> When I introduce a serious source of tension, this does not **always** mean something bad will happen. Or that the past will repeat itself. At this stage of where we are, it's more meaningful when the past doesn't repeat. When the same circumstances don't repeat, then the same outcomes can't rhyme with history. Everything you read from me is very deliberate, planned out anywhere from a year to five years in advance. And I know this story is defined by the risks I take. I chased after this theme of rhyming outcomes with those risks. But I also trust you to recognize what's set in stone and what appears more malleable. So take a deep breath and continue on at your leisure.
> 
> I know that I'm generally quiet with author's notes. Even when I don't say anything, I appreciate having you here. I want the story to speak for itself, that's all.

_"The Citadel" from Mass Effect 1 / "Mary Magdalene" by FKA twigs_

**XLV.** Apollo

_(Shepard)_

As the _Normandy_ approached the Citadel, I kept Miranda by my side. Here along the bridge, with Joker and most of the team standing behind us, we stared out the windows at our approach. Holding Miranda's hand, gazing out at this violet expanse surrounding the station, I soaked in the mood about her. How pleasantly fine she was, how fine and pleasant she looked: this gentle smile on her face, this trust she gave me, leaning her head along my shoulder. Truly, her optimism seemed unbreakable. How she believed in us, the two of us. Lingering habits from her attitude masked her tenderness, somewhat.

After Illium, a few more days passed, nearing the beginning of April, with our newest team members getting settled aboard the _Normandy._ Samara and Thane had more or less acclimated to their new routines, winding down in the starboard observation and life support areas, respectively. Everyone seemed to get along. So by the time I received an email from Councilor Anderson, asking to meet him on the Citadel, his timing worked out pretty well.

As this next transition, I decided I would speak with my team individually about their concerns—any possible personal missions.

Once our meeting with the Council was over, I'd let everyone go wherever they wanted on the Citadel. Find them, talk to them. Get the rundown on those needs and concerns they had.

Then, once we took care of this next mission against the Collectors, we would get through everyone's personal missions. One by one. Ideally over these next several weeks, as Miranda had predicted already.

So much had changed since our last visit to the Citadel, right after we'd recruited Garrus on Omega.

Miranda had found her peace with me, no matter what. No matter who watched us, observing.

The same story, I saw throughout the Citadel once we touched down. Heading to the main elevator along the Presidium, en route to the Citadel Tower, nearly everyone around stared at us, too. Not that I wasn't used to it by now. I did feel a certain pride, from having Miranda like this. Knowing that we were well on our way to _more_ together, I let myself take on her optimism. Her masked euphoria. Her endless positivity that magnetized my own. Especially once we arrived to the Citadel Tower, to the beauty here: the rise of this endless ceiling, the spread of cherry trees around as pink blossoms. And this persistent ambience of a sunset shining in through the tallest window, overlooking all at the fore.

Standing before the Council for this meeting, I recalled the importance of my role.

Standing behind me as I stood before—Miranda, Legion, Zaeed, Mordin, Garrus, Jack, Tali, Kaidan, Kasumi, EDI, Samara, and Thane were all here. Closest to me was Miranda, as always. Right behind.

Councilor Anderson, along with the asari, turian, and salarian councilors treated me with respect. As their equals. Maybe even somewhere above them. We all recognized the parts we had to play—for now, against the Collectors, and later, against the Reapers. In place of the Illusive Man, the Council had this latest mission for my team to carry out. As important as this was, they had my full attention.

Having this break from the Illusive Man couldn't have come at a better time.

The turian councilor said, "Commander, thank you for agreeing to meet with us. We understand that you currently answer to the Illusive Man for your mission. However, he was wise enough to defer this current matter to us. You are still a Spectre. We would like you to handle this as a favor to the Council."

Councilor Anderson continued, "That's right. This particular issue doesn't concern the Terminus Systems. It's unusual that the Collectors have decided to venture outside that region. Their location is finally under our jurisdiction. With your help, we should be able to find out what the Collectors are up to, and hopefully keep them gone. At least until you end them completely after your suicide mission."

"We're sending you to Eden Prime," ordered the salarian councilor. "Back where it all began. For oddly similar reasons, as it would appear. As you recall, Saren and the geth attacked the human colony during your first visit. At the time, researchers had dug up a valuable Prothean artifact, which we later learned was a rare, in-tact beacon. The very same Prothean beacon that gave you your visions, warning of the Reaper invasion."

_Eden Prime…_

Hearing the name of that colony reminded me of how much had changed since then. Or even how I hadn't really changed, despite what I'd believed before.

I remembered the ones we'd lost as well.

In particular, Kaidan seemed the most pensive. I heard his thoughtful humming somewhere behind me.

The asari councilor explained, "We have reason to believe the colonists have discovered quite the unique find. Another one of their dig sites produced a second Prothean artifact of sorts. However, they have not been able to verify this information. The colonists have gone into hiding due to increased Collector activity in the system. They are under orders to remain in hiding until we're able to ascertain the Collectors' motives. But, as you can assume, it is only a matter of time until the enemy attacks."

I asked them, "Why do you think the Collectors are taking so long to act?"

Anderson speculated, "They may be trying to figure out if it's worth the risk: hitting the colony for this artifact, with the Alliance waiting to launch a counterstrike. The thing is, the Alliance is unprepared to face the Collectors on this scale. You and your team are the only ones who've survived against them. Certainly, we've sent Alliance soldiers to deal with pockets of Collectors. We've even had a few notable victories. But they all came at a significant risk. No one is willing to put themselves on the line again."

"What happened, exactly? Why are my fellow soldiers too afraid to fight against the enemy?"

Classified matters—the councilors all looked between themselves, deciding.

And then Anderson answered me, with his authority: "One of your recruits, Lieutenant James Vega, faced the Collectors on Fehl Prime, another one of our human colonies. He and his team were initially there to keep the peace against Blood Pack mercenaries. The Collectors suddenly attacked, and Lieutenant Vega led the charge to drive the enemy off. He lost his entire team along the way. He also made the decision to sacrifice several captured colonists, in exchange for critical data about the Collectors. For Vega, it was…a Pyrrhic victory at best."

"No wonder…"

"It's safe to say the rest of the Alliance is unequipped for this fight. You and your team are the only ones we can count on. With that said, we won't send you to Eden Prime right away. The Collectors may decide to leave—or they may not. Sending you too soon will only provoke them, possibly putting the colonists in harm's way."

The turian councilor specified, "Commander, as before with Saren and Virmire, we will again ask you to remain on standby. When we determine that the Collectors need to be dealt with, you should expect an email from us. Until that time arrives, you're free to do as you please. We recommend the same approach you took before, freeing your schedules with shore leave until the mentioned time."

"Understood, Councilor," I replied. "We'll do just that."

Anderson ordered: "When you touch down on the colony, your main objective will be simple. Drive the Collectors away from Eden Prime. Whether that involves getting the Prothean artifact out of their reach, or defeating the enemy by any means necessary, it will be up to you. Just ensure the colonists' safety."

"On another note," said the salarian councilor, "The Illusive Man has sent over the data you and your team gathered about the Collectors, and your countermeasure to their seeker swarms. Your teammate Professor Solus was quite thorough in his write-ups and assessments, including ideas for possible widespread dissemination to the masses. As a precaution, we've arranged for the seeker swarm countermeasure to be sent out to the citizens of Earth. In case the Collectors ever decide to venture there. We do not believe they ever will."

The asari councilor knew, "As with Eden Prime, it would be a great risk for the Collectors to attack such a closely-guarded location. Least of all your homeworld, surrounded by the Alliance and their fleets. But we made this decision out of an abundance of caution. Not as a means to cause alarm. The masses have heard enough about the Collectors causing trouble for colonists in the Terminus. They will want to be prepared for the worst, despite the unlikely probability of any such attack ever occurring on their soil."

Their reasoning made sense. I couldn't imagine the Collectors ever deciding to hit Earth.

_Just in case._

Anderson concluded the meeting: "Commander, the Council thanks you once again for your continued service. May you always continue to be a friend to the Council, our protector. And may you continue to be a protector to all in the galaxy who deserve you. We wish you the best of luck on Eden Prime and beyond. This meeting of the Council is adjourned."

Afterward, I sent my team off for some free time, hanging out on the Citadel however they wanted. Miranda went on her way, too, with promises to meet up again later on. Later on, after I'd finished speaking with everyone about whatever they needed. But first, Councilor Anderson asked for another meeting with me in his office. So he and I went to the embassies together, chatting as we went along.

Back in the safety of his office, Anderson settled down a bit. Sun shining in from the Presidium behind; wide picture windows and more space open to the view there; the lake glittering in the distance; and skycars zipping across that rounded, artificial blue sky. This peaceable quiet surrounded us as we sat at Anderson's desk. Contemplative.

The mood about the room dimmed, slowly.

Dimming with Anderson's consideration, making up his mind about what to discuss with me.

During my last visit, he'd simply pulled me aside to have a talk, catching up over those past two years.

That he'd brought me to his office this time instead—I noticed the difference in privacy, and in security.

Taking a deep breath, Anderson admitted, "Shepard…it's been a long time coming. I've held onto this conversation for quite a while now. I wasn't sure how to tell you the news. You remember before, at our last meeting: the Council reiterated why we're keeping the public oblivious about the war. We're choosing not to tell them about the Reapers. On purpose. Staying quiet to avoid a panic—well, that's certainly one important reason. But that's not the only one. Honestly, I wish it was. It would be easier."

"What do you mean, Sir?" I asked. "Why else wouldn't you tell the public about what's going on?"

"Believe it or not, we're doing this out of security concerns. For you. It's for your own protection."

"How? Why would anyone want to come after _me_ over this? I'm trying to stop the Reapers, to protect everyone else. Isn't it obvious?"

"Of course it is," agreed Anderson. "It's obvious to people like you and me, living in reality. Unfortunately, that isn't the case for everyone. There are some bad actors out there. Making a living off of peddling misinformation. Conspiracy theories. Those types of lies. They'd no doubt spin something like this into a vast media empire on its own. The only reason they didn't try it with Sovereign is because everyone saw the vids directly. The same will have to happen with the rest of the Reapers. People will need to see the invasion with their own eyes. That way, no one can deny it once it arrives."

I knew enough about this type of exploitation. How so-called journalists would claim they had the real facts, making their audience think they were in on some secret information. Or just outright taking advantage of their fears. All while making money from those exploits, severing their audience from reality, as Anderson had said. Doing this with something like the Reapers could've been catastrophic.

Anderson went on, "Long story short, we can't risk anyone _indoctrinating_ the masses ahead of time. We have reason to suspect there are rumors swirling around anyway. But it's all vague enough to keep the worst from happening—on a galactic scale. Besides, it looks like you have the best security we could've hoped for. Something tells me you're not quite aware of it, though."

"No, I don't think I am."

"It involves your executive officer, Miss Lawson. Her father, Henry Lawson, appears to be working against any possible enemies of yours. Suppressing their efforts to target you. Keeping them at arm's length. That sort of thing."

I remembered Aria telling me about this the last time we spoke at Afterlife.

Anderson noticed my understanding. "Mr. Lawson seems to value his daughter, and so he values you being with her. I'm aware of their tumultuous falling-out from the past. It's difficult to say if he's turning over a new leaf or not. I can't get a read on his motives. I'm only able to speculate on what he's up to."

"What do you _think_ he's up to, then?"

"Once the Reapers invade, the galaxy will be looking to you. They'll discover Miss Lawson's role in this war—how she protects you from indoctrination. Her father will want to take some credit, at least. As power-hungry as he is, I can see him enjoying the prestige and attention. Seeing you come out victorious will feed into his own influence, his dynasty. But, like I said, this is all speculation. I don't know for sure."

That would explain some things with Miranda's father. His reasons for reaching out all of a sudden.

There had to be more to it than that.

"If Miss Lawson does decide to speak with her father, I'd like you to observe the situation. Keep an eye out. Given what we know of him, I'm not ready to trust that his intentions are pure. He could be trying to take advantage of you both. You never know. Stay vigilant, Commander."

"I will, Sir. Thanks for letting me know."

"Well, I've taken up enough of your time. I know it'll be a while before we see each other again. I'm looking forward to your report on Eden Prime. It'll be just like old times. Aside from that, I expect we'll meet again after your suicide mission. I'll be back on Earth to brief you about our plans for the Reapers. I won't worry you with any of that now. By winter time, we'll be looking back on days like these. So enjoy the rest of this year, Shepard. Make the most of it—with your partner, and with your team. No regrets."

* * *

Anderson's words stayed with me as I left to the Wards.

Making the most of this time. Not having any regrets.

Basically not leaving anything on the table.

His advice made me rethink how this day would go, talking to my team spread throughout the Citadel. I'd planned on going into this with a business mindset. Just checking in, getting information, and then making plans. But I began to reconsider that. My team had each sent me their NavPoints already, waiting for me to find them within the next few hours.

Once I finished meeting with everyone else, Miranda wanted us to spend time together. To talk, unwind, and discuss how our day had gone. To enjoy each other's company in ways we couldn't take for granted. Not with so much looming over the horizon.

But we still had to get through this next mission.

Taking the rapid transit to the Wards, I sent Aria an email with the necessary information:

_To: Aria – The Collectors._

_Aria,_

_I have an update for you. The Council's sending us after the Collectors within the next few days. We'll be hitting Eden Prime in search of a Prothean artifact at a dig site. The Collectors haven't attacked the colony yet. Apparently it's only a matter of time. When that time arrives, I'll need your help, as promised._

_For now, the team is on standby. We're waiting for the go-ahead. Can we still count on you to join us?_

_-Shepard_

.

_From: Aria – Re: The Collectors._

_Shepard,_

_I always repay my debts._

_I'll join you as your guest for Eden Prime. As promised. Contact me with an update as soon as possible. To save time, I'll take my own transport from Omega to the colony. However you want to handle this, let me know, and I'll follow your lead. I'm not used to taking orders from anyone. But I've obviously made an exception for you._

_This should be an interesting experience. I'm looking forward to it._

_-Aria_

.

Strictly-business—I was surprised that Aria kept her message short and to-the-point.

But even her lack of expression gave away some meaning on her end. As if she wanted me to wonder about her. Possibly, maybe.

Arriving to the Zakera Wards, I found quite a few people out and about. Wandering throughout the shops, enjoying their time with their friends and loved ones. Exactly like last time. Nothing had changed with anyone. Everyone had their freedom here on the Citadel, free from the approaching invasion. As I walked among them, past these many advertisements and gathering groups, I felt my own envy growing. These innocent people clustered in this shaded space of the Wards, darkened from the brights of the sights outside the windows. Out there, the rest of the Citadel shined on in the pale, manufactured sunlight: those gleaming metropolises of the other Ward arms beyond.

I imagined the idyllic fantasy of living that type of life with Miranda. Oblivious and free from danger. Never having to worry about the next day, the next hour. Peaceful to think about. Too unrealistic to dwell on. Because I knew, after the war, the next threat would come. And we'd all have to step up again.

As the embodiment of that escape, I entered a crowded extranet café. Darkened this time in a shadowed ambiance, nearly lightless, the brights from the many computer screens lit the space instead. I passed by a bunch of people of all ages: all of them sitting at their terminals, playing video games together. A few other people were only here for regular extranet browsing, enjoying a drink and a meal here in the café. But for the most part, a bunch of gamers populated the place, playing various MMOs or other multiplayers. Most of them were glued to _Galaxy of Fantasy,_ a hugely popular MMO based on turian mythology. The latest expansion, _Waters of Kolono,_ had just released. So everyone raced through progression together, exploring new areas, and getting their in-game characters up to the new level cap.

Among all these gamers was Legion, sitting at one of the terminals in a corner. I went over to its location, noticing the attention it attracted from other people. The humans, turians, salarians, volus, and asari all around kept glancing at Legion, clearly disapproving of its presence here. Those shifty, suspicious looks spoke enough: those people probably assumed Legion used some kind of cheating VIs while playing. Assuming Legion was a regular synthetic, they didn't seem to know that it was a geth. That ignorant bliss afforded Legion enough cover to do this, infiltrating the Citadel for shore leave, so to speak.

Unintentionally.

"Hey, Legion," I said, ignoring the haters around.

"Shepard-Commander," replied Legion, still playing. "We are thankful for your visit."

"You play Galaxy of Fantasy?"

"Yes."

Trying to get a better look, I wanted to know, "So…which class are you?"

"We are currently playing a level 612 ardat-yakshi necromancer. Our leveling process is ongoing."

"That's cool," I mentioned. "I never played this game myself. Looks like you're heading back to town?"

"Correct," confirmed Legion. "We did not wish to idle in the open world. We risked leaving ourselves vulnerable to player-versus-player opponents. Player non-functionality would have been imminent."

"I get what you mean. Aside from our game, what else have you played on your free time?"

"N7 Code of Honor: Medal of Duty. Grim Terminus Alliance. Fleet and Flotilla: Interactive Cross-Species Relationship Simulator. Ultra platinum-level donation to Geth Attack: Eden Prime Fundraising Edition."

"Wait a minute—you played…a relationship sim? Based on _Fleet and Flotilla?"_

Legion sounded embarrassed: "Yes… Our playtime of seventy-five hours and six minutes was unsuccessful. We attained a player score of fifteen."

"Fifteen?" I asked. "What does that mean, exactly?"

"Hopeless."

I tried not to laugh. "Oh…I see."

"We find action titles—more straightforward to comprehend."

"I figured as much," I said, as Legion stood up to speak to me properly. "Since you're available to talk, you know why I'm here. Going around to see what everyone needs to take care of. Before the suicide mission, that is. Do you have anything you need our help with?"

Legion informed me, "We are unaware of any critical tasks at this time."

"Then is there anything that might become important later?"

"There is a high probability that the heretics among geth will become relevant. We speculate that this will not become an issue for some time. Shepard-Commander should instead prioritize critical tasks for other team members. We will inform you when the heretics choose to make themselves relevant."

"Okay, no problem," I accepted. "Any idea what the heretics might be up to later on?"

"Unknown. The heretics are separate from us. They chose to leave. We allowed them to do so. They are no longer part of our consensus. When the heretics become relevant, the remaining geth will find ways to gather necessary data. We believe the heretics will wish to convert us. However, this is conjecture."

"Convert you? You mean convincing _your side_ to worship the Reapers like they do?"

"Yes."

I declared, "Then we have to find a way to stop them. Do your people have any kind of plans here?"

Legion _seemed_ to agree with me. "We are still building consensus. Please try again later."

"If you say so… Feels weird to just sit around and wait on something like this."

"Consensus is necessary to achieve unity among the geth. We remain uncertain on how to proceed, given the creator threat. We have attempted to analyze their news sources and communications. The Migrant Fleet restricts essential news data to highly-secured channels. The geth have not been able to monitor these channels. We suspect the creators may wish to retake their homeworld. Should the creators take action, the geth will be at risk. We cannot achieve consensus without this critical data."

I remembered the quarians talking about this before.

And I'd already promised Tali we'd help her people retake their homeworld.

So I suggested, "Maybe you should operate under the assumption that the quarians do want Rannoch back. But they might not take the violent option. Peace is always a possibility. If the geth are up for it."

"This is a sensible assumption," settled Legion. "We will disseminate it to our consensus. Our decision on the heretics will still remain unclear, but less so. We will achieve consensus as the mission continues."

"Okay, then. Get back to me whenever the situation changes. We'll help you out however we can."

"We thank you for your offer of assistance, Shepard-Commander."

"I'll let you get back to your game, then. Have fun, Legion."

"Acknowledged," said Legion, returning to the old leveling grind.

Leaving the café, I headed further into the Wards.

Walking through this familiar back alley, red lights filling the place, I remembered when I was last here. Years ago, with my team, running to save Tali from the Shadow Broker's agents. Those agents who'd tried to take advantage of her youth and naïveté, not expecting someone like me to come along. I'd sniped everyone down with ease before finding Tali herself. I'd had no patience for how distraught she'd been, after everything she'd suffered during her Pilgrimage up until that point. Thinking back on it now, I could've been less…insensitive toward her.

Even though I'd committed to speaking with everyone today, Tali's possible request took up most of my thoughts. Whenever I found her later on, we would have to have a conversation. Our first conversation in this new era we lived in, of not speaking to each other at all. No one else suspected anything. No one knew that we weren't talking; no one knew our reasons. But I wanted things to improve between us.

I missed Tali.

I missed her joy. I missed her tenderness. A lot. Already.

Caught in the middle of respecting her wishes, and my own selfish feelings, I wasn't sure what to do.

I could only hope our discussion today would move our friendship into a better direction.

Outside the back alley, I rounded the corner to the next walkway, leading to Chora's Den.

On my approach, I heard the bustle and beats of the music: measured, understated sensuality warping through my ears. Again it reminded me of the old days. Going after Fist, the old owner of the club; sniping down mercs from the vents; ordering Wrex and Ashley to charge through, while Garrus and Kaidan kept watch just outside. These memories of Ash aside, I had no idea how to feel about the past. That _hope overture._

Equally reminiscent, I found Zaeed inside the club. He sat down near one of the walls, drinking a beer. Watching an asari work the pole in front of him. Blue of her skin, blue of the lighting all around—everyone else inside this place looked the same, felt the same. Except for…EDI who was here, too, observing people at the central, circular bar. She gave me a smile, before gesturing to Zaeed, who'd already started drinking his feelings as alcohol. I'd go find her after having a talk with our ex-mercenary.

Reaching Zaeed's side, I stared down at him, at his drinking.

He stared at the asari dancing in front of him. Glassy-eyed and all, even with his injured one.

"Zaeed. What are you doing here?"

Lazy and languid, he responded, "What's it look like I'm doing, Shepard? Having a drink. Getting some goddamn entertainment. Close as I'll ever get to getting some action. Unless I ask EDI for a good time. She keeps watching me. Hell, maybe she's interested."

I glanced at EDI watching someone else now. "Something tells me she's not up for it."

"You're probably right," muttered Zaeed, pretending to be sadder. "No idea why she's here. Maybe you should be asking her that question. Some idiot pissed out of his mind tried going up to EDI earlier. No idea what she did to make him go away. She's just been watching all us sad sacks ever since. _Gathering data_ about how fucking miserable we are. Wish I was a synthetic. No goddamn emotions! Sounds nice."

"Why are you so miserable, Zaeed? What's going on?"

"I already know Lawson told you enough. She had to scold me; give me a stern talking-to about Jack. I knew I was outta line. But this is why I hate being on a team. Seeing all these reminders about the past. It's easier to not give a fuck, you know. Get in, get the job done and get out. _Caring_ is too much work."

"Who exactly does Jack remind you of?"

Zaeed took a long, slow drink of his beer. "Someone who might not exist after all. I don't know."

From what I knew, I started to put the pieces together. "I'm assuming this has something to do with Samara. Or not _her._ Mainly the fact that she's an asari." Zaeed looked away from the dancer in front of him. "Were you…involved with someone before? A girlfriend of yours."

"Sure was," he admitted. "Funny thing is, she was a justicar. Went around wielding a sniper rifle. The whole relationship thing didn't mean much to me. I did what I needed to do, and so did she. Never confronted each other about it. That little understanding we had was nice. Never argued—not like that. We were both too jaded for anything more. Think we just cared about the sex. Hell of a time we had."

"So what went wrong?"

"We had a job together. On a team with a couple others. The Shadow Broker told us to shut down a ship, and that's what we went to do. The pay was too damn good—I wasn't gonna turn it down. Things got ugly quick. Wasn't a pretty sight. Somehow managed to get the job done. Everyone else on our team died, or got stabbed in the back. I could've killed her, too. Saved myself. I stopped at the last second."

"What made you stop? Your relationship with her?"

Zaeed grunted, "Wasn't just that. There was this _look_ in her eyes. Begging, warning me not to do it. Like I'd be making the biggest goddamn mistake of my life if I offed her. Gave me the strangest feeling. Filled my head with a crazy idea. She might've been pregnant with my kid without telling me. So I saved us both instead. After the mission, though, she wouldn't talk to me. Refused to say a word. I nearly broke."

"Then this whole thing with Jack…?"

"She's how I imagined my daughter—if I had one. Maybe I do have one of those little blue girls running around without me. Maybe I'm just another deadbeat dad, wandering the galaxy while the mother of my kid's going at it alone. Feel like shit over it. Wish I didn't."

As depressing as that sounded, it did explain a lot about him. How he behaved. His psychology.

Zaeed finished his current bottle of beer, and popped open another one.

Watching him like this, he reminded me of Wrex, inevitably so. Such similar resistance and pain.

I felt obligated to help.

"Zaeed, we can do something about this," I told him. "If you want to get in touch with your girlfriend, or pay her a visit, just let me know. I'm only wondering how important this is. If it's more pressing than your contract with Cerberus. You mentioned taking down Vido Santiago before. Does he really matter?"

"Vido's nothing but a distraction," he said. "That anger. That _rage._ Helped me forget, helped stop these goddamn feelings. Whatever the hell that prick's up to, it doesn't matter. He's small change next to the Collectors, the Reapers. Yeah, he screwed me over. Ruined my legacy. This thing with my ex ruined me even more. Being on a team just makes it worse. Jack and Samara—they remind me of my _real_ failures."

"What you're saying is—if we hit the Omega 4 Relay, _right now,_ Vido wouldn't be on your mind?"

"Nah… It's the other stuff. I'd probably lose my goddamn focus. Big time. You wouldn't like it at all."

"Then we should take care of this. Whatever that means for you. Whenever you're ready."

Zaeed saw the benefits, and yet—"I get what you're saying. It's gonna take me a while, Shepard. I've gotta find a way to get back in touch with my ex. See if she's still on Thessia. _Where_ on Thessia. Then it'll be a while before she'll even talk to me. I just know it. So how about you take care of some other business first? Whoever needs your attention more should get it. Think I'm way lower on the list."

"That's fine, Zaeed. Let me know when you have an update. Then we'll head over to Thessia."

"Yeah, all right… Don't wanna face any of this, but I can't keep running away. I'll let you know."

"Sure thing," I settled. "Don't let me keep you any longer. We'll talk again later if you want."

"I hear you. Thanks, Shepard. You've got a good head on your shoulders. Don't ever lose it like I did."

Leaving Zaeed to his alcohol and entertainment, I wanted everything to work out for him in the end.

I understood my role in that process. Mostly hands-off. Getting him to Thessia. Then hoping for the best.

The prospect of going back there brought up my own memories. But I couldn't dwell on those right now.

I returned to the bar, finding EDI in the exact same place. We sat down together; the few people looking this way decided to look elsewhere. I assumed everyone would be smart enough to leave us alone.

"Hello, Shepard," greeted EDI. "Thank you for joining me. Are you surprised by my presence here?"

"Well, yeah… I never thought I'd find you in _Chora's Den_ of all places."

"There is significant value in these types of establishments. Organics frequent this gentleman's club for a variety of reasons. I wished to observe those reasons for myself. Zaeed's recent behavior triggered my curiosity. I did not wish to 'stalk' him, yet we still arrived at the same location. It was a coincidence."

"Makes sense. Are you worried about him?"

"Yes, to some extent. His downward spiral began when you recruited Samara. Based on his extranet bookmarks, and his extracurricular activities during shore leave, I predicted Zaeed would turn to this current course. Given that he can no longer view Jack as he did before, his regrets have begun to worsen. However, I believe Zaeed wishes to improve his situation. He will not allow this to defeat him."

"I hope you're right, EDI," I said. "What about you? Is there anything pressing on your mind?"

EDI rephrased, "Do you mean to ask if I have a personal mission I would like to pursue?"

"Basically."

"I do not, Shepard. My primary concerns involve the _Normandy,_ and you as my captain. So long as the ship is functional, and you are in good health and spirits, there is nothing that threatens my focus. I have other, more trivial wishes, such as desired hardware upgrades, but these are not worth mentioning."

"Okay, that's fine. I only wanted to make sure. There's nothing you wanted to talk about, at least?"

EDI hesitated, before saying, "There is one particular topic I wished to discuss. I worried that you would evade this subject matter. Or that you would perhaps shut down the discussion altogether. But you agreed to answer my questions about organic behavior. I remain hopeful that you will always choose to answer my inquiries, even when they are about you. And even if the issues make you uncomfortable."

I hadn't planned on talking about _me,_ but—"Go ahead, EDI. What did you want to ask?"

"Do you believe you had an acceptable amount of closure with Dr. T'Soni?"

This soft apprehension in EDI's eyes, like she knew she'd landed a hit, and she didn't want to hurt me:

Her consideration made this surprise less sudden. Her sincerity encouraged my own.

"No, I don't think we did," I answered. "The last time she and I talked in my cabin, before the Collectors attacked…I was in the middle of a transition. I didn't want to move. I didn't want to _change._ But I thought I had to. I thought I had to leave Ashley behind; be with Liara completely. For the sake of the mission, for the galaxy. To deal with the Reapers. None of that turned out to be true. Still, I remember how I felt that night. I remember the way Liara made me feel. That's what I associate her with."

"But it is also correct that you did not truly mourn Dr. T'Soni's passing."

…

EDI apologized, "I am sorry, Shepard. If you would like us to stop discussing this topic, we may do so."

Despite how much this stung, I didn't want to brush her off. "We can talk about it, EDI. I'm just wondering why you brought this up."

"I have observed that the team seems to remember her fondly. Despite her choices, and despite her methods with your previous partner, those appear to be irrelevant. They have each found their forgiveness for her extreme actions and choices. I watched you shoot down your partner in the starboard cargo room. Your actions affected me in ways I will never fully comprehend."

"That I can understand," I sympathized. "Would you say I traumatized you?"

EDI paused.

Then she responded with, "I am unable to answer your question at this time. But it has caused me to analyze certain scenarios."

"Such as…?"

"Such as what would have happened, had Dr. T'Soni killed your partner in self-defense two years ago."

"Honestly, Miranda would have done the honorable thing. She would have switched my protector to Liara, officially. I'd mourn Ash's death. I'd be pissed off at Liara for keeping secrets from me. But the situation would be different with her still alive. I'd want to move on with Liara—after making sure everyone else knew the whole story. Liara would still be on the team now. And that would've been it."

I decided against mentioning the obvious: that I still would've gone for Miranda in the end anyway. Despite everything.

"Then you have forgiven Dr. T'Soni for her past indiscretions?"

"EDI, if anything, _I'm_ the one who owes her an apology. For a lot of things. It's too late for that now…"

"I see," said EDI. "I will examine this issue." I expected that to be the end of the conversation—for now—but then she came back with: "Shepard, I have examined the issue. You appear to miss Dr. T'Soni on an intrinsic level. Yet you have not dedicated resources to restoring her non-functionality. The lieutenant expressly desired to avoid the team, and so her return would be unfeasible. Nevertheless, restoring her is beyond our means, even after the Lazarus Project. The same cannot be said for Liara."

"Wait—with Liara, it's _not_ impossible? How do you know that?! What are you saying?"

"Due to the powerful nature of her bond with you, it is likely her death was unconventional. The essence of her person, and her life force, also exist within you. Specifically within your mind. The unconscious reaches of your mind, once unreachable. Your foray into Insomnia has created these new possibilities."

Yeah, I'd had a feeling we would find Liara in that VR game—eventually. _But this?_

This was…way beyond what I'd assumed was possible.

Then again, Liara had always existed within this place. This space in my mind. This specific place that nothing and no one could have ever reached in me. All over again, like a light turning back on in the darkness, exactly as she'd described years ago: I realized I still needed her. Tempered by my reality, yes. Tempered by the knowledge of what could never be. _Different_ in that sense. But still here, still present with me.

I had to ask, "Would Legion know more about this?"

"It is difficult to say," replied EDI. "Due to our synthetic nature, Legion and I are limited in our understanding of organic thought processes. My hypothesis is that Miranda will have the knowledge you require. Of course, these possibilities have also eluded her. Once she is made aware of them, she may have more information. I would recommend asking her directly—at your earliest convenience."

"Sure, I'll do that. Thanks, EDI. I plan on meeting up with her. After I talk with the rest of the team."

"Then I encourage you to resume your visits with the team. I will remain here and continue with my observations. I will also continue analyzing possible scenarios for the team—for Dr. T'Soni's eventual return. I believe her presence will improve team morale. Restoring her would not be a selfish decision on your part."

A selfish decision.

Glancing at these asari dancers all around, working those poles in that seduction, I saw the truth hazed through the lust within this club. Mirrors of potential with me. The soft, gentle, understated magnitude of Liara's sex appeal. That quiet begging of hers. Wanting me to come just a little bit closer to her, until we collided—and for me to stay there. Needing what I'd suppressed in my thoughts of her, cravings so crass and crude. More importantly, I remembered the way she'd opened me to the universe: my emotions, _the depths of me,_ and who I was as a person. And I remembered what the two of us had before—what we could've had—interrupted by all the time in our world.

* * *

Selfish or not, utilitarian or not, this matter with Liara threw me for a loop.

I'd never dwelled on these possibilities because they hadn't occurred to me. Never. Not once.

Now that they had, I was almost afraid to think about them. And not because I expected things to _change._ But the possibility of seeing her again—it made me feel some type of way. A way I hadn't allowed myself to dwell on. I'd missed her, intrinsically, without really knowing the full extent of things. Deep, buried, complicated love; the allure of our memories, rose-tinted, and doused in thick coats of nostalgia. Pragmatism and realism.

If nothing else, I wanted to do this for Tali—to make things up to her. To make everything right again.

The two of them, Liara and Tali, loved each other in their own ways. I could do this for them. Not me.

That seemed to be the best approach.

Shifting my priorities accordingly, I made my way to the Silversun Strip on the Citadel.

Free of the grit and grime of the Wards, yet not quite reaching the pristine levels of the Presidium, this strip existed somewhere in between those worlds, those standards. Elevated, colorful, expansive, and packed with people all over the place. Entertainment abound, with arcades, casinos, theaters, and all sorts of shops, bars, and restaurants. Everyone here seemed to have a bounce in their step, heading to the next arcade with their friends, or sharing a lively conversation somewhere on the strip. Even a few people owned apartments around here, overlooking the dazzle of lit-up building names and advertisements all around.

Relatively anonymous in these crowds, I went to the largest theater in the district. Only now did I see the surprise—the Galactic Video Music Awards were on today, streaming live galaxy-wide, right inside the spectacle of this building. From outside, I could hear the roars of the celebrity-packed audience, their ceaseless cheers and applause, all for the current punk rock band playing on-stage. Yet two of my teammates were in there, waiting for me to find them. How the hell did they get in without tickets?

They must have snuck in somehow. If they had, then they wouldn't be in the actual audience seats.

Activating my cloak, sneaking past security: I made my way into the theater proper, and up to the nosebleeds way up top. On the way, I passed by various ads for the artists and bands playing tonight—Blue Giants, Varrencage, and Domino Masque—none of whom I'd ever heard of. This sense of energy everywhere, of excitement and euphoria, almost felt infectious. Well-aware of the mass of noise around me, echoing wide and thrumming deep, I soon reached those nosebleed seats. Overlooking the rest of the theater, that spectacle of lights, I found my people.

Standing together, leaning against the railing, Jack and Kasumi watched the show with an ease about them. Hidden away in their own little world, they had a friendly energy, talking and laughing about whatever. They soon noticed my approach as I uncloaked, finding this look of confusion on my face.

No doubt Kasumi was the brains of this operation, knowing exactly how to sneak all the way up here.

"Hey, Shep," she greeted, calm and casual as ever. "Not surprised you found us. Still, I'm impressed."

"How did this start?" I questioned. "Why'd you two decide to team up for this?"

"It was pretty easy," answered Kasumi. "I found Jack wandering around, looking a little depressed. So, I suggested this idea for us. Just as a fun thing to cheer her up. She didn't believe it was possible. Not at first, anyway. I had to remind her about who I am, what I do. Once we managed to get in, she was happy. And so was I. We've been chatting together this whole time we spent waiting for you."

I hadn't expected that.

Jack grinned at me. "Shepard, can you believe this shit?! Best seats in the house for the GVMAs!"

"If you think the nosebleeds are the best, sure," I responded.

Kasumi claimed, "Believe it or not, this is where the action is. We get the best view of _everyone_ in the theater. Not just the artists on-stage. Think of the celebrity gossip we could write about this! There's a business in this niche— _secret stalking at award shows_ —and we could earn a lot of legitimate credits."

"Do either of you two even write?"

"Not me!"

"Uh, maybe?" said Jack. "I submitted a couple poems to some award things. They always turned me down, though. Guess no one wants to read my angsty emo crap. Let alone give me some trophy for it."

"Well, everyone has to start somewhere," I humored.

"I _think_ I'd rather get my ass kicked by the Collectors. You know, for the mission."

"Then you know why I'm here."

"Of course," replied Kasumi. "We were just talking about it, actually. I'll let Jack go first. Her request is simpler than mine."

Jack insisted, "Yeah, _for now_ it is."

I told her, "I'm listening, Jack."

"Look, you already know about my past. How Cerberus fucked me up. I wanna take a look at some more of their files. See what else they've got on me. I don't know what exactly I'm looking for. I'll figure it out once I find it. The files Miranda gave me before helped a lot. So I want to keep looking, that's all."

"Okay, we can do that," I allowed. "Once we get back to the ship, I'll give you full access."

"It's that easy, huh?"

"Yes, it is. Unless you _want_ me to make this difficult."

"No way!" exclaimed Jack. "I'll take what I can get with you, Shepard. Thanks. You're a real one."

"What about you, Kasumi?" I asked next. "What's this complicated request of yours?"

"I wouldn't say it's complicated," corrected Kasumi. "More like…multi-layered. And possibly delicate. You remember when we first met? I mentioned needing your help with a heist."

"Yeah, I remember. What are you looking to gain from this heist?"

"A certain greybox. It belonged to my partner, Keiji Okuda. It has a lot of information that should be worthwhile. Among other things. Donovan Hock, a big-time weapons dealer and smuggler, has Keiji's greybox hidden away. I'm looking into how I can get it back. I don't expect I'll have all the answers any time soon. I need a little bit longer to finish my preparations. Could I let you know once I'm ready?"

"Sure, Kasumi. We'll take care of it then."

"Just so you know," she warned, "I'm going to ask you for a few more favors. For the heist. Depending on how things go, I might need your help directly. Or I'll only need you to provide a distraction for me. As long as you agree to these favors, everything should go smoothly. Hope you're prepared for it."

That sounded…suspicious. "We'll see about that."

"That's more than I could ask for. Thanks, Shep. This means a lot to me. More than I can say."

"I understand. So, when are you heading out of here? I don't want you getting caught by C-Sec."

"Oh, we'll be fine," said Kasumi. "Security has no idea we're here. We'll be back on the _Normandy_ later."

"Yeah, Shepard, don't worry," added Jack. "The show's just getting started! We won't get arrested. Not like our crazy night out with Miranda and Samara on Illium. Promise!"

"If you say so. I should go. Be careful, you two."

Kasumi and Jack gave me their own fond looks, watching as I activated my tactical cloak and left.

Getting back outside the theater was easy enough. I could only wonder how C-Sec would've reacted, knowing they had a security breach like this. Of course, it was better for them not to know. Not with my team involved.

Still on the Silversun Strip, I went to the Armax Arena—the best combat simulator complex on the Citadel. One of the largest buildings on the block, the place lit up in bright orange and gold, with peoples' top scores on display. I followed the crowds through the entrance hall, searching around, before making my way upstairs to the main lobby.

Watching a few of the ongoing public matches, Mordin stood by himself. Observing with great interest. He seemed to be studying the combat, the simulations, and the complex itself. Curious how everything worked. Contemplative, Mordin had his hand beneath his chin, humming every so often. Completely lost in his own world, he didn't notice my approach. I'd already uncloaked outside, so he should've noticed.

"Mordin?"

"Ah, Shepard!" he said, looking glad to see me. "Relieved you're here. Wanted to ask your opinion about combat sim, potential possibilities. Matches appear to be entirely realistic. Hard to believe fighting is only simulation. Video games offer vast opportunities for experiments, scientific study. Know you are gamer yourself. Enjoy games with Legion, spend time in mysterious VR game with Miranda. Intrigued."

"I don't mind giving my opinion," I told him. "I just figured you'd want to talk about our last mission with you. On Tuchanka. Learning the truth about your assistant. How are you handling everything?"

Downcast, Mordin admitted, "Still hard to believe Maelon betrayed me. Betrayed my work. Disgusted by his actions. Proud of his nerve, though. Always thought he lacked backbone. Hope he finds peace in afterlife. No regrets over killing him. Had to be done."

"You're really okay with what happened?"

"Of course. Can't change what happened. Life continues. Back to mission, back to work. Onto current fascination with combat sims. Become like Maelon otherwise. Salarian emotional processing faster than other species. Has to be. Short-lived culture. Can't spend time reminiscing. Of course, greatly distressed at time. Stages of grief. Loss, anger, rationalization. Dealt with it. Will carry with mission on as needed."

"Maelon didn't seem like he processed his emotional response. He was obsessed with the genophage."

"True," scorned Mordin. "Didn't mean to imply that salarians were healthier emotionally. Can still make wrong choices, bad decisions from grief, anger, guilt. Maelon couldn't accept feelings, made decision, executed. Salarians still feel, just resolve it quickly. Explains lack of marriage. Can't sustain courtship emotions. Or perhaps based on reproduction. Unsure. Less-involved emotional bonds simpler for us."

"What about Maelon's data on the genophage?" I asked. "His attempts at a cure."

"What about it? Have it in lab somewhere. Not dealing with it now. Need to focus on Collectors, Reaper threat. Not important now, regardless. Appreciate you and Miranda helping me back on Tuchanka."

"No problem, Mordin. Now what's this about video games? What made you decide to come here?"

Mordin smiled, explaining, "Now that personal mission is over, and finished with seeker swarms, need new project. New ways to contribute. Came up with possible idea for combat sim. Will face Reapers when they arrive. War imminent. Practice and knowledge beforehand should prove useful. Shouldn't go up against Reapers unprepared! Imagined putting together game to simulate process of how you defeated Sovereign, but on larger scale. Include all teammates. Their roles, yours. Simulated battlefield."

"That sounds incredibly helpful," I praised. "Do you have any experience as a game developer?"

"None! But, could solicit aid from EDI, Legion. Perhaps Tali as well, due to tech genius. Know several contacts with necessary experience. Imagine Legion would provide bulk of assistance and guidance."

"I think that'd be a great project for you guys. Why don't you get in touch with the Council about this? Ask about those tactics and strategies the Alliance is coming up with for the war. I'm guessing your STG contacts might have some ideas, too. Maybe you could implement those tactics into the game itself."

"Yes, wonderful!" agreed Mordin. "Colleagues in STG provided clues already. Hinted _dire_ necessity of biotic users for defense. Not sure how… Will contact them and Council for more information soon."

_Biotic users._

To help us win this war.

Liara's importance grew by the hour.

I had to know, "Any idea when you'll be done with this project?"

"Hmm, not for some time. Should be finished once all recruits have joined team. Can test completed version here at Armax Arena. Again, must consult staff for logistics, details. Exciting prospects!"

"I'll let you get to work, then. I'm looking forward to seeing how this turns out."

"Of course," said Mordin. "After consultations, will put in work order with Illusive Man, request funds. Can purchase required materials as necessary. Fresh horizons as game developer look promising."

* * *

Everyone else I hadn't yet spoken to was somewhere on the Presidium, so I made my way there.

The most difficult encounter so far, I expected to have at the movie theater.

The sunny brightness of the day, the well-maintained plants and trees, and an impeccable sense of order gave the perfect illusion of peace and harmony everywhere. And the tall, tall theater overlooked the view of the Presidium's lake, and all these bright-white buildings and bridges throughout. Several skycars flew over these long lines of people waiting to get inside. Everywhere around, I saw a bunch of colorful ads for the latest releases— _Blasto: the Jellyfish Stings, The Demon and the Nightmare,_ a reboot of _Dark Goddess, Gravity's Rainbow,_ and _The 840-Year-Old Virgin._ Given the sheer amount of people in line, I assumed this was a pretty popular, big-budget lineup. I'd never seen the lines this bad before.

Standing in one of those lines, I found the usual clique together, commiserating over the wait.

Garrus, Joker, Tali, and Kaidan all suffered. They looked downright miserable.

Steeling myself as much as possible, I went over to them.

"Ugh, this is the worst!" complained Joker. "The _one day_ we get to goof off on the Citadel, it's opening weekend for all the best vids! I bet anything all these kids are here for that frickin' Blasto thing."

Kaidan sulked, "Just our luck, huh…"

Garrus sighed. "So much for our plans for vid-hopping. Not sure we'll be able to get around security like this. Normally, I'd say we go for it anyway. Don't think that's the best idea."

Tali stayed quiet.

I tried not to focus on her as I approached. Didn't want to give myself away.

She seemed to sense me anyway, finding me first before the guys did.

When Tali looked up and found my gaze, I felt her quiet wanting. The first time she'd made real eye contact with me in weeks. The first time, and I wasn't sure what to make of this energy about her. Was she still mad at me? Did she really hate me, despite what she'd said before?

"Hey, Commander!" said Kaidan. "Happy you found us. We could use the company."

Joker snorted. "Seriously! You see these lines, Shepard?! It's ridiculous!"

"Good to see you," greeted Garrus. "Think you found us at a bad time, though. We're kinda stuck here."

I pointed behind me to the Spectre entrance. "You don't have to stand in this long line. I can get you in."

Kaidan asked, "Really, could you?"

"Admission and concessions are free. You can watch as many vids as you want. It's unlimited access."

"Unlimited?!" balked Kaidan. "You mean, as long as we register as your guest once, it's permanent?"

"That's right," I confirmed. "Even if you're not with me, it'll still work whenever. Come on. Let's go."

Following me out of this hell, Joker laughed. "Man, Shepard, you're a lifesaver! You know that?"

Garrus agreed, "I'll say. We should've asked you sooner. I'd totally forgotten about those Spectre perks."

"For sure," added Kaidan. "Thanks a lot, Shepard. We owe you."

Tali still wouldn't say anything. She stayed closer by my side, as her way of thanking me without words.

No lines, no waiting—I walked inside to the air-conditioned lobby with her, with Kaidan, Garrus, and Joker.

_"Shepard. Human. Spectre status recognized. Human, turian, quarian guests recognized. Access unlimited."_

Not having to worry about that headache anymore, the guys' conversation shifted.

I followed them to the concession stand, listening as they decided which vid to watch first. Somewhere overhead, I heard an ad for that Blasto movie. The lead hanar said one of his lines, _"This one doesn't have time for your solid waste excretions!"_ like it was the best thing ever.

"I'm telling you!" argued Joker. "We've gotta get some laughs in. _The 840-Year-Old Virgin_ sounds hilarious! _The life of an impossibly nerdy asari?_ An _asari_ who can't get laid? Now that's comedy!"

"I don't know, Joker," said Kaidan. "I'd rather go with _Gravity's Rainbow._ It's an Earth classic!"

Garrus disagreed. "Think I'm up for more grit and suspense. I hear _The Demon and the Nightmare's_ a true story. Two thresher maws almost destroyed a salarian city on Dagnes. I'd like to see how the survivors made it out of there alive."

Joker frowned. "Dude, that sounds depressing…"

Kaidan took a friendly jab—"No more depressing than _you_ being a 40-year-old virgin in about a decade."

Tali snorted back her laughter, hurrying ahead to the concession stand.

Garrus' low chuckle spoke enough. He followed after Tali, intent on buying a few snacks.

Joker steamed. "Kaidan…you _really_ shouldn't give me that kind of ammo."

"Well, given the way you treat EDI these days, did you actually think I wouldn't make that joke?"

Not wanting to go down this road, Joker joined Garrus and Tali by the concessions.

Kaidan watched him go with a smile. "He's way too predictable."

I remarked, "I have to say, Kaidan, I wasn't expecting that from you."

"Ah, Commander, you missed the meat of the background there. Joker's always giving me a hard time. The thing is, he disguises it with his jokes. Making fun of my integrity. Suggesting _I'm_ a virgin, or that I only like women who are unattainable! Sure, Joker can dish it out, but he can't take it. Serves him right."

"In that case, I'm glad you're standing up for yourself."

"Definitely," he agreed, smirking. "So, I take it we're all next on the list? About our personal matters."

"That's right. Anything you need to wrap up before we hit the relay?"

"Hmm, I've been trying to come up with something. Not too clear on what I might need. I'll probably think of something down the line. Right this moment, though, there's not much on the agenda for me. I'm more concerned about Eden Prime, the next mission. We were there together a few years ago."

"I remember."

Kaidan looked a little down. "Yeah, I remember, too. The geth attacking the colony. Losing Corporal Jenkins. Nihlus. Meeting Ash… How that beacon affected you. How it changed everything."

"Are you anxious about going back?" I asked.

"Anxious… Sounds about right. Facing the Collectors again won't be easy. But we'll get the job done."

We joined the others by the concessions, getting their snacks together. From this vibe I got from everyone, they all seemed to hope I would join them, watching whichever vid they picked out. I felt their closeness; their willingness, their desire to be close to me. They almost surrounded me in this close proximity, emotionally, almost-latching onto me in our familiarity. Needing to spend this time with me.

Silent and unreadable, Tali gave me this feeling more than the guys did.

I noticed her buying two drinks, taking both cups in her hands.

I was tempted to get an Orange Julius for myself, knowing I'd be here for a few hours. That creamy, sweet blend of orange and vanilla flavor. Not quite a smoothie. I missed them from my hometown. Drinking them with my friends out on the beach when we were younger, cooling down from the sun. But, after the blast of nostalgia I'd had so far over Liara, I couldn't bring myself to get anything more.

Still, with this exact thirst drying my throat, I seriously had a taste for one right about now.

Or maybe a freezing blue slush drink. Sweeter than sweet. _Mind-numbing._

Garrus approached me instead. "Hey, Shepard. Something on your mind?"

If I mentioned Liara to anyone else without solid proof, I risked getting their hopes up.

Ideally, I wouldn't want them to know until she actually returned. As a big surprise for everyone.

"Just thinking about my hometown," I deflected.

"Right, we're heading there next after this. Picking up that Lieutenant Vega guy. Should be plenty of fun. Sunny San Diego in the springtime on your homeworld. We were last there around the winter holidays when… _you know._ I'd much rather make some new memories. Even though the old ones still hurt."

"I know what you mean. Aside from that, was there anything you needed our help with?"

"There is, actually," said Garrus. "I've got something. Though I'm still a little fuzzy on the details."

"What is it?" I asked.

As a natural progression, we all started following Tali as she led the way forward.

Forward, to a certain theater, to watch whichever vid she had in mind. Not paying attention, Joker and Kaidan followed along, the two of them bickering about something else now. Though Kaidan seemed to be above the back-and-forth, grinning over Joker's frustrations. At any rate, they remained oblivious, staying with the group. I spotted a similar sort of obliviousness about Garrus, walking with me, telling his story. I couldn't help feeling like they would all object if they knew which direction Tali was _really_ going…

They'd find out soon enough.

Garrus went on, "You remember Sidonis? The one who betrayed my team? I've found a lead on him."

"That's good news. You know where he is?"

"I managed to track him to my hometown. Cipritine. On Palaven, the turian homeworld. His exact location keeps changing by the day. I'll need to work a few favors back home; get him to sit still long enough for me to pin him down. When I do, I'd like your help finding him. If it's not too much trouble."

"What are you planning to do when you find him?"

Garrus' eyes brimmed with an old hatred for _someone else._ "You humans have a saying: 'an eye for an eye.' A life for a life. He owes me ten lives—one for each of my teammates—and I plan to collect."

If he could've said her name instead, he would have.

"Okay, Garrus," I accepted anyway. "We'll head to Palaven. When do you think you'll be ready?"

"Maybe after Eden Prime. I'll need to do most of the legwork on the ground. Figured we could have some free time for everyone while I look into things. Shouldn't take me long to call those favors in."

"No problem. You'll be the first on the list, then. Everyone else's personal missions should follow after."

"Thanks, Shepard. I appreciate you taking the time to help me."

I could have, should have asked him about the obvious. How he coped with it.

I decided to leave us to this silence instead. Garrus seemed to be all right. For the most part.

We followed Tali directly inside to the vid of her choice.

The sign overhead had read… _Dark Goddess._ That cerebral, asari erotica. Six hours long.

None the wiser, Kaidan, Joker, and Garrus stayed with me, staying after her. The complete dark of this theater, lit only by the gigantic screen at the front: I felt my eyes drawn more to Tali in front of me. Holding those two drinks, one in each of her hands, Tali cast a glance at me over her shoulder every so often. She already knew to walk up to the special Spectre seats, removed enough from the rest of the general crowd. Half-packed theater already—no one could see me in this dark, see the care of my focus on Tali leading me onward. How the near-ultraviolet of her suit lit up in the light of this screen.

Even so, I kept following Tali anyway, through the rows of these comfortable chairs. She sat near the very end of one row. Expecting me to sit next to her: protective, shielding her from everyone else in my intentions. And I did so, not knowing any better. Still knowing how much I'd pleased Tali with this one act. Unwittingly, Garrus sat down next to me, with Kaidan and Joker on his other side. The guys indulged in their snacks for a little bit, chatting among themselves. Not noticing the rest going on over here.

Tali set her drinks in the cup holders along the seats' armrests. One on her side, over there. The other on this side, over here, closer to me. Between us. I looked down at it. That orange and vanilla cream…

"Is this for me?" I asked.

"Yes, of course it is," she said, sounding contented enough. As she gave herself away.

There was no other way she could've known I liked this drink.

"Thanks, Tali…"

Kaidan cleared his throat. "Hey—this is a little weird. I keep seeing several couples walking into the theater. A lot of them are asari. No kids whatsoever. Which vid is this, anyway?"

"Whoa," said Joker. "You see this ad playing? It's… _not_ what I expected."

An advertisement playing for a similar lusty vid coming to theaters soon.

Nearly frozen still, Garrus asked, "Is this… _Dark Goddess?"_

Unbothered and unperturbed, Tali told them, "Yes, it is. You never asked me which vid _I_ wanted to watch. This is what I picked. If you don't like it, you can leave."

All at once, the guys bolted to their feet. They quickly made excuses and abandoned the theater.

Meanwhile, I stayed in my seat. Sipping the drink Tali had bought me. Wondering why she'd done this.

"Funny," mentioned Tali, indifferent. "I could imagine Joker staying, at the very least. Seems it's easier for him to joke about sex than actually watching it with others. Or watching his porn by himself." She gave me a pointed look from behind her mask, needing to make sure: "Do you plan on staying, then?"

"I'm not going anywhere. I just…need to message Miranda. To let her know."

Still indifferent. "You do that, Shepard."

Opening up my omni-tool's messaging interface, I wasn't sure how Miranda would react to this.

_[11:43:04] Me: How's it going?_

_[11:44:20] Miranda: Very well, thank you. What about you? What are you up to?_

_[11:44:50] Me: I somehow got roped into watching a vid at the theater. I'm with Tali. About to start watching Dark Goddess after these ads finish playing. The guys were with us. They bolted already._

_[11:45:23] Miranda: That's—quite hilarious, actually._

_[11:45:39] Me: Are you…laughing out loud?_

_[11:45:52] Miranda: Yes, I am._

_[11:46:30] Me: Well, this gets in the way of our plans. The vid is six hours long. It starts at noon._

_[11:47:28] Miranda: That's fine, Shepard. I'm working with Mordin right now to put in a request with the Illusive Man for more funding. He says you already know about this. I'm also going to make sure we have the proper facilities for Mordin's project. We'll likely go shopping with Legion and EDI on the Citadel. It'll be a full day for us. So I don't want you to worry about making me wait._

_[11:48:57] Me: All right, then. I still didn't get a chance to speak with Thane and Samara. After I talk with them, you and I can meet up. Get something to eat together. Wherever you want to go._

_[11:49:29] Miranda: Sounds perfect. I'll inform Thane and Samara about the wait. Enjoy the vid with Tali._

_[11:49:42] Me: You mean you don't have a problem with this?_

_[11:49:59] Miranda: I promise you I don't. Though something seems a little different with you today._

_[11:50:30] Me: I planned on telling you about it later. I've been thinking about the past._

_[11:50:45] Miranda: Hmm. Has this nostalgia brought down your guard?_

_[11:51:02] Me: A lot more than I'm comfortable with._

_[11:51:22] Miranda: Is this asari vid bringing back memories? Your time is short, so please don't linger._

_[11:51:41] Me: Unfortunately. That's not the only thing. I'll tell you the rest when I see you._

_[11:52:13] Miranda: I understand, Shepard. For the record, there's nothing wrong with your attraction to her. It may have bothered me before. Not anymore. But this is clearly something that won't go away. I only want to make sure I haven't done anything to turn you off. Are you unhappy with me?_

_[11:52:21] Me: I'm not unhappy with you. This just came up. It caught me off-guard._

_[11:52:45] Miranda: I believe you. I'll need to think about this. And not in some sort of foreboding way. There's nothing ominous going on here. I'm keeping an open mind, that's all._

_[11:52:53] Me: What do you mean, exactly?_

_[11:53:24] Miranda: We'll see what happens as time goes on. Much later on. I've already accepted Liara's role as an executive member of your mind. I did this a long time ago, really. I'm not anxious, so I'm taking it as a positive sign. It's nothing personal against me, either. I'm not worried._

_[11:54:02] Me: Miranda, are you sure? I don't want her on my mind like this._

_[11:54:59] Miranda: Shepard, that's very noble of you to say. We don't have control over this. We can only control our choices; our situation. You know that as well as I do. This thing with your past has obviously torn your walls down. I'm eager to learn about it later over our meal. It's all right._

_[11:56:02] Me: Babe, I don't want you to bend your tolerances for me. We've gone over this already._

_[11:56:43] Miranda: It's not about bending. I said I'll think this over. In the meantime, I don't want you to keep closing yourself off. Be open to your emotions. Stop fighting them, even if you aren't necessarily running away. You're allowed to feel however you're going to feel. I'm okay with this. Really. I promise._

_[11:57:00] Me: I'll keep your advice in mind._

_[11:57:22] Miranda: That's all I can ask for. Enjoy the vid with Tali. I'll see you later on._

_[11:57:29] Me: See you later, babe._

As I closed my omni-tool, silencing all alerts for these next hours, I let myself breathe. Think. Feel.

Closer than close once the vid started: showing that dark, dark view of the eponymous club on Thessia. The same one we'd all gone to for my birthday that time. Dark ambiance, darker music—trip-hop and alternative R&B. The lower level with everyone allowed; the upper level for VIP guests only. And the leading asari in the camera's view, looking at one another. Leering. Lustful, already, blistering in beats.

That unspoken between them spoke so much.

All the same, Tali had started drinking from her own cup. Sipping that straw.

"Your breathing's changed," she noticed. "Not so anxious anymore. Did you feel guilty for doing this?"

I glanced down at the Orange Julius she'd gotten for me.

The measure of her perceptions, her observations.

"Yeah, sort of."

Tali laughed softly.

I started worrying about something else. Tangential, adjacent. I felt obligated to stay here. Not just physically, but mentally and emotionally as well. Here in this place, walls torn down all around me, inside of me. No real protections from her, from anyone close to me. Because if I didn't earn Tali's loyalty back, I knew what could happen. She might've died during the suicide mission. She might've died before that—on Eden Prime, during another, later mission against the Collectors. She wouldn't be able to focus; she wouldn't survive. And it would be all my fault.

Losing her, the thought of it all—I remembered my other losses.

I remembered how losing Liara hadn't hit me yet.

I felt my fears growing by the minute, by the second and more. Uncontrollable. Fearing her return. Fearing how that could've _changed me._ Fearing those attachments coming back again. They'd already started. Already, already I missed her. I fucking missed her. But I was days away from the full reality.

"Tali, since we're here—did you have anything in mind? Anything you need our help with."

"Not at the moment," she replied. "I don't have a personal mission, so to speak. Something could come up later. I'll let you know. For now, I do have another thing in mind. I wanted you to ask me about it."

"What do you need from me?"

"The other week. Back on Illium. When you told me the truth about Liara, you also made me a promise. You said I could ask you for a favor in the future. Anything I wanted. Anything at all. As a privilege."

Those two asari on-screen had started the chase. Mentally. Wanting, needing the other's attention.

"And now…you're choosing to cash in?"

"Yes, Shepard," said Tali, eyes firmly focused on the vid. "That's exactly what I'm doing."

I couldn't escape this. I couldn't go back on my word.

I owed her for my mistakes in the past.

As much as I felt my face heating up, eyes watering, I still entreated, "Then tell me what this favor is."

Tali gave me a look first. Movements from the vid screen reflected in opaqueness over her mask; the slanted brights of her eyes focused on me, studying me. She could have gone with the obvious. _I expected her_ to make that obvious ask of me. She could've taken it as far as she wanted. Asking me for sex; asking me for so much more. Tali could have ruined my relationship, forcing this change. Making me pay for my mistakes with the blood of Miranda's broken heart. She absolutely had that power. And she knew it.

Instead, she held herself back.

Instead, Tali made this seemingly impossible request: "I want you to bring Liara back to me."

Closing my eyes in pain, I had to look away.

These fears of mine kept building and building.

No fears whatsoever over changing my path. Changing my mind about Miranda was off the table. Never that. I knew that for certain. It was still, this emotional uncertainty. Never having complete control. Not being able to keep my guard up like I had before. Just having Liara around again was bound to distort, shift, reveal. Crashing those waves of her disquiet against me, seas and oceans flooding my barriers.

Tali may not have taken the expected shot with that gun to my face. But she still fired at me anyway.

"I know it sounds impossible," she went on. "Hell, I'm well-aware that it probably is. I'm sure I'm getting my hopes up by even saying this. The fact of the matter is, I thought the same thing about you. While you were dead. I still needed you to come back to me. And you did. _Maybe_ she could come back, too."

Acting, so believably, the two asari on-screen knew how to move into one another. Their hands, their lips—perfect chemistry, sinking into each other, undulating. Heat and entropy growing, showing.

Every sexed sound they made reminded me of my shortcomings.

"Do you want her?" I asked.

Tali hummed, thoughtful. "She will always be my best friend. With Liara, it's not about romantic love. It's not necessarily about sex, either. It's the companionship we had. I need her, Shepard."

Just as I figured.

I felt my renewed determination to do this for them. For Tali and Liara. The love they had.

Even if it meant I had to suffer in private. My suffering was my sacrifice for them. Both of them.

"I'll look into it, Tali," I promised.

Startled, she gave me a wide-eyed look of disbelief. _"Really?!"_

"Yes, really. I'm not sure how long it'll take. I'll find a way to bring Liara back. You have my word."

Clinging to _my word,_ clinging to me—Tali clung to me, holding on. Holding onto my arm nearest to her. Tightening, tightening. Gripping for dear life. This culmination of her innocence, how I'd destroyed it: her emotions seeded back to those saplings, watering beneath the opaque glass of her mask. Still with me, still with me. Eternally close. Not precise enough for her to spot this calamity, this disquiet in me.

Reaching around with my other hand, I held the back of her head. This intricate patterning of her suit, her hood, the shape of it. These reminders of her mother stitched in by hand. These reminders of her best friend still reflected along her mask. Quieted in the silence of this theater, she let me hear her.

Vague recollections of Tali's mother flashed before my eyes in the dark.

Asking me to take care of her daughter. Asking, begging without words.

Dream or not, recollection or not, I stayed in this stalwart silence with Tali for as long as I could. Staying here, protective in my hold, in reality this time.

We stayed like this for hours more. Watching this vid. Watching this dark goddess play out before us. All as a memory. A memory of the same person on our mind, in our memories. Tali found her calm, her composure. Savoring this time with me holding her like this. Mirrored hearts or not, she loved me in ways I could never reciprocate. She believed in me in ways I could never find within myself, for myself. And the same was true of these memories, these wants playing out on-screen. Thessian wine as all.

The afterglow of that time stayed at the forefront of my mind. Glowing as an eternal sunset's dream.

After some time, Tali remembered more. She remembered more of who I was.

Maybe she caught onto my hidden hesitations to move forward with my promise to her.

She posed the reminder to me—not as a promise of her own, or a threat.

Just a reminder Tali gave me: "You aren't built to dedicating yourself to one woman, you know. After all you've been through. Why do you keep trying? I'm only curious. I really don't mean anything by it at all."

I had no idea how to answer her.

"Shepard, I'm not trying to scare you. I'm merely pointing out the obvious. I think this is why Saren wouldn't believe you before. When you said you could do this for the galaxy, to stand against the Reapers. He knew this was your truest weakness. Giving yourself to one person alone. No one else. I find it strange that you've decided to try anyway. You're doing your best to _change._ Despite your beliefs."

I had to wonder why she'd chosen to stop holding back. "Which beliefs of mine do you mean?"

_"We are who we are. People don't change."_

Tali had officially stopped pretending as if she didn't _know_ these things about me.

And so she said, "I know you. I understand your worldviews, your cynicism. When given the chance, people will always show you who they are. At their best, at their worst. You seemed to believe you had changed before. When you were with your ex. You were convinced you'd become more responsible. I don't think that's the case. You were just more willing to make a decision and stick with it. Even when that decision continued to bring you pain. Do you plan on doing the same thing with Miranda this time?"

"It's not the same…"

"Is it? You only seem to let go of someone after they're dead. Or when you grow bored of them. It's easier to kill them; to burn the bridge. Leave them behind—out of sight, out of mind. If you have to see them every day, then it's much different. That's why these fears of yours are coming up now. I can tell."

Ethereal, cerebral, I finally saw Liara's full reflection in this vid. Her reflection staring back at me.

The women on the screen—fighting for each other. Fighting against their other desires for other people.

Making themselves clear—for each other. Not letting up. Using sex as that perfect expression of love. Using their eroticism as their sole spoken language, speaking of their needs and regrets and hopes for the future, forever and ever. Those touches, _knowing_ one another without a word.

"What are you saying, Tali? There's no hope for me? I can never _be_ with anyone? Is that it?"

"What I'm saying is: I want you to bring Liara back for my sake. But I won't be surprised when you inevitably attract most of her attention. Even while she's angry at you over what happened. The truth is, Liara will always be in your life as a lover. Not just a friend. Whether you give into temptation or not, she will never give up on you. Not like before. I can assure you—no matter what happens, Liara won't be able to let you go."

* * *

Alone, I stood on a balcony, still within the pristine purity of the Presidium.

As I remained here, leaning over the balcony, resting my weighted weight over the railing, I wondered. Listening to my music, staring out at this lake, at the continuation of life all around, I kept on wondering.

Wondering if Saren was right about me all along.

Wondering, as I listened to this music Liara had gifted me, long ago. Years ago, around the time we'd first met. She'd given me this album as a thank you for saving her on Therum, and simply for being her leader. This album of otherworldly music from her homeworld. Atmospheric. Bass thriving in thoughtfulness. These electronic sounds. A woman's touch. Subtle vulnerability in emotionality. And the romantic, sacred, heavenly obsession woven through—angelic singing, angelic lyrics. Pure and true.

Just like Liara was. Even in her darkness. Even in her lies, her secrets. Even in her mistakes with me.

This multitude of her contradictions, I stewed over.

The mess of my own contradictions, I anguished over.

I had been avoiding this music before. Not on purpose. Not consciously. I hadn't wanted the _reminders_ at the time. These reminders. How I had never really mourned her death. How I'd used my logic and anger as a hazard shield, blocking all of this away. How I had only fooled myself after these few months.

After all this time, Liara still had this impact on me. This power over me.

Liara had enough power to bring me to my knees. Destroying my perception of myself. Ruining the personal security I'd only thought I had before. _I could have fallen._ I could have, but I didn't. Not yet.

Not now.

Just a matter of time.

 _For now_ …I could breathe. I could function. I could remind myself to not fall into some other catastrophe.

Forcing myself to keep my word, I went to find Samara next. Keeping my word about meeting with everyone, speaking with everyone. Finding out what they needed. Setting my own ridiculousness aside. Getting to where I needed to go. The bookstore across the lake. The bookstore across this bridge. I had to meet with her. Another asari. At the worst possible time. No complaining. Complaining was useless.

All these fucking emotions kept colliding in me anyway. Too many of them. Too messy, too much. Because this was exactly why I put so much effort into being stoic, emotionless. Trying to avoid this mess. Avoid going back on my word. Avoid the pain and shame of not being in control of my own urges, my own wants and desires. This was why I'd spent so much energy avoiding people, avoiding attachments, to prevent something like this from happening. Not being able to fully let someone go when I should have, even after _multiple_ attempts. From before I died, and after. Many, many attempts.

I resisted as much as I could.

Letting these emotions run their course, as Miranda had suggested, I still refused to put up with them.

I couldn't do this to her.

I couldn't hurt her with my weaknesses, my private indecision.

Days ago, I'd told Miranda that everything would be okay. I'd told her that everything would be all right.

_I had told her._

_I had told her._

_I had promised her._

And she believed me. Even now, I felt her positivity glowing, radiating all throughout the Citadel.

But as I entered this store, breathing in this smell of old fashioned print books, I remembered myself.

This reminder, coming up again—of how much Miranda made me feel as if I didn't deserve her. Her willingness to bend over backward for me. Her willingness to sacrifice for me. Even now. Even when I didn't have everything figured out, like I should have. Like I was supposed to. And I hated the difference.

I'd sooner destroy myself before ever hurting Miranda like this.

Even if it meant falling on my sword while she continued to thrive. I refused to betray her like this. Because this felt different from the past. When I would waver. Despite my emotions going haywire, I knew—I had to keep my promises. I wasn't going to leave Miranda over this. My heart wouldn't stray.

So I kept walking. Searching the bookstore, past these windows with a fine view of the lake. And _falling._

Eventually finding Samara sitting near one of those windows. Curled up with a few books, with a warm drink in her hand. Completely relaxed—or projecting as much—despite all she had been through in life.

Samara looked up from her book, finding me here. The outside sun shone in, brightening her gaze.

"There you are, Shepard," she said, with that calm I could've died for. "I am glad you joined me. I was just passing the time with my studies." Her studies: reading a copy of _Justicar Heroes._ "Before you ask, this is not necessarily for pleasure. I am checking this text for inaccuracies about my justicar contemporaries. I have located several so far. Dramatized for entertainment purposes. Predictably so."

"I understand," I replied. Sounding normal enough. "It's good that you're staying relaxed."

In that moment, Samara looked at me more carefully.

She found something in my eyes that I didn't want to show.

"Please sit with me," she requested, patting the space next to her.

Feeling a bit useless, I did as she said. I didn't like a member of my team seeing me like this. Not at all.

Samara remained considerate nonetheless. "I know why you are here, Commander. You're aware that I am still conducting my investigation. I do not expect to track down my target for quite some time. And even then, it will be best to give her a false sense of security. Allow her to make more mistakes at her next location. I cannot risk finding her while she is alert and paranoid. I must be methodical about this."

I remembered finding that evidence in the fugitive's room. Evidence linking her and Samara together.

I wasn't sure if now was the best time to bring it up. This seemed to be a pressure point.

"You are oddly pensive today," noted Samara. "Though I cannot blame you. There is a great burden you carry. From what I've observed, you are determined to carry it alone. Such is your honor, your duty."

"You must be the same," I pointed out. "That's what you do as a justicar."

"It is, though my burdens are designed to be carried alone. Yours are not. Not from what I've read."

"You mean the report about what happened. In the past. The drama from before you joined."

"Yes, the very same," confirmed Samara. "Such events were difficult to digest. I can't help but see those events reflected in your eyes. You do your best to project strength, certainly. But the most convincing strength comes from within. The strength to stand tall even when you want nothing more than to fall."

I insisted, "It's just one of those days, Samara."

"One of those days where you find yourself missing the deceased."

Despite this discomfort, I felt obligated to correct her—"Only one of them. Not both."

"The young scientist. Prothean expert. Ambitious. Troubled. Misguided. You feel responsible for her."

I _was_ responsible.

"Commander, do you believe your past lover is worthy of redemption?"

"I don't think I'm the best person to answer that, Samara. I'm not exactly impartial."

"You may say this, yet I already sense your true answer. More so, I sense her _here._ Here with you. I felt no such thing upon our first meeting. Not even in the days that have passed since. This is brand new."

How did she know?

Giving a genuine smile, Samara said, "Dr. T'Soni has been waiting for you for quite some time. It would appear you are just now heeding her call. _Better late than never,_ as the human saying goes. As for how I know this, the reason is simple. The two of you share a powerful bond. One that has not expired, even after her death. I believe my oath to you has fallen within her purview. They are not the same, your bond and our oath. Yet they coexist together nonetheless. She now safeguards the promises I made."

Hearing that from her, it helped me breathe. A little bit more.

Knowing Liara really was still out there, somewhere. Knowing she hadn't left. Knowing she was okay.

Wherever she was, I could imagine Liara still working. Still researching. Still putting her mind to use.

"It is comforting," noticed Samara. "Knowing that our loved ones carry on after death. The young doctor's case seems rather different. Though I expect the answers shall reveal themselves to you in due time. There is no need for you to fret. Unless there is something in particular that won't leave you be."

"I never mourned her death," I admitted. "Never took that time to remember her. To grieve. _Not completely._ Not as much as I should have. After everything that happened before, I was too pissed off. I just wanted to move on already."

"You worry that your emotions will catch up with you. Perhaps sometime soon."

"They're building up. Getting there. Soon, like you said."

Samara asked the pointed question, "Do you feel this will complicate your relationship with Miranda?"

"I don't think it'll _complicate_ things. I have my own doubts about myself. But even in the face of all that, I can't see myself leaving her. I'm in too deep at this point. I'm more concerned about her seeing this."

"Showing weakness, as you believe."

"Yes…"

"My advice to you, Shepard: allow Miranda to see these weaknesses of yours. You are not doubting your relationship. You may be panicking, due to your emotions and memories rapidly rising to the surface. Yet I see no reason for Miranda to doubt you, in turn. I have not known either of you personally for very long. But your story together is one of grit, sacrifice, and resilience. This old warrior finds it moving."

_Panicking…_

"You have a point, Samara. Thanks for that."

"Of course," she said, smiling more. "As for Dr. T'Soni, continue forgiving her as you forgive yourself. That forgiveness will carry you through these next trials and tribulations. Panicking and resisting your emotions will not cause them to obey you. Listen to them instead. You shall find your peace once more."

"Might take me a few tries to put that into action."

"Trying is better than not attempting at all."

"You're right."

I sat with Samara for a while longer.

Thinking about what she'd said. Wondering how this would all play out.

I really needed to calm the fuck down. And not just as a temporary thing, placating. For real this time.

"Commander," spoke Samara. "If you must continue on and meet with Thane, I will understand. You needn't stay here with me overlong." I actually didn't _want_ to meet up with him. My first impression of him still hadn't gone away. "I appreciate our talk, however. I know it is not easy for you to be as frank as you have been. I only hope you do not mind if I continue to monitor you. From a fair distance, that is."

"I don't mind," I accepted. "I appreciate you caring like this. I'm not used to it, that's all."

"All the more reason why I should. And I will. Thank you, Shepard."

Knowing Thane was also in this bookstore, I asked, "Do you know where he is?"

"I believe he is still within the Earth section. I was with Thane earlier, attempting to help him find a book. We were unsuccessful in our search, and decided to spend our time separately. I am not clear why Thane was so determined to find this particular book. Perhaps you will learn more, should you inquire."

"Looking for books from Earth, huh? That's…strange. I'll go find him, then. Thanks again, Samara."

Samara gave me one last smile, encouraging, before returning to her reading, sipping her warm drink.

Heading over to the books from Earth, I found Thane soon enough.

Standing near one of the bookshelves, with a sign overhead that read _Renaissance Era,_ Thane continued his search. Wrists folded neatly behind his back, upper body moving from side to side with his search, he seemed pretty intent on finding this book. I couldn't help feeling I'd inspired this fervent search of his. As if his desired reading somehow had to do with me. First impressions between us so unalike.

"Commander, you are indeed skilled," said Thane, turning to greet me. "I'm afraid I didn't hear your approach. I only knew you were somewhere in the building—perhaps with Samara—upon feeling your shared energies together. It appears I have met my match with your abilities as an infiltrator."

"So, what are you doing?" I asked, glancing at the Renaissance literature all around:

 _Hamlet, Romeo and Juliet, Macbeth, The Tempest, Julius Caesar, Antony and Cleopatra_ —all by William Shakespeare, with several more of his works here _. Paradise Lost_ by John Milton. _Utopia_ by Thomas More. _Don Quixote_ by Miguel de Cervantes Saavedra. I'd read each of these at some point in school, except for _The Tempest,_ which I'd of course found not that long ago. Searching the origins of Miranda's name with this play.

Thane responded, "I am looking for a certain text from this era. The primary sources from the Renaissance are quite numerous. For a time, I had gotten lost in the secondary sources—books written about the era itself. I then became engrossed in the collected works of Queen Elizabeth of England and Ireland. But this was not what I meant to find. I have restarted my search after losing myself earlier."

"Well, which book are you looking for? If it's popular enough, it should be here."

"It is a popular treatise on political theory. _The Prince_ by Niccolò Machiavelli."

"That book is very…misunderstood, Thane. I hope you're looking for it for the right reasons."

Thane seemed surprised. "Is it truly misunderstood? How so?"

"Machiavelli talks about the differences between idealism and reality when gaining power and keeping power. How it's idealistic of us to want to live up to our potential as human beings. To do the right thing, always. But sometimes, doing the right thing will get you killed. And your enemies will take advantage of that idealism at some point, leading to your eventual downfall. You have to protect yourself from that."

"Then maintaining a balance between idealism and ruthlessness is important. Must it be genuine?"

"It's still important to have the appearance of goodwill and honor, to make sure the people respect you. At the same time, you need to be ruthless when it counts. No one said anything about whether it has to be genuine or not. Either way, being too idealistic or too ruthless will lead to downfall. The idealists get taken advantage of all the time. The too-ruthless leaders are hated and eventually get overthrown."

"Hmm, I see," mused Thane. "I admit I was swept up in the book's reputation. Machiavellianism as that typical ruthlessness. It would seem that reputation can be easily misunderstood. But it also seems you have described yourself with your explanations, Shepard. Hence why I wished to read this book at all."

"How exactly did I describe myself?" I asked.

"The balance you maintain between idealism and ruthlessness. You are an inspirational leader precisely because you do not tip the scales too often. When you do, it is for maximum effect. I believe you lean more toward a renegade personality. Yet it is unclear whether your paragon virtuousness is _genuine_ or not. Perhaps you self-modulate your more virtuous behavior and decisions. Practicing social empathy on purpose."

I gave him a sharp look—warning him not to fuck with me like this.

Thane took a step back, entreating, "My apologies, Commander. That came out wrong. Terribly so."

"Then what did you really mean, Thane? What are you trying to say about me?"

"…I believe it is in my best interest to read this book before giving you my full answer."

I should've known—"Does this have something to do with the report you read? About the past."

"It is related to Miranda's detailed descriptions of events past, yes. She described you as Machiavellian."

"Do you think she meant the _balance_ we just talked about? Or the evil Dark Triad personality traits?"

Thane wouldn't give me an answer.

Either he had misunderstood me, or he knew exactly who I was and still feared me anyway.

Glancing at the top-most shelf, I spotted the titular book itself— _The Prince_ —right there, looking at me.

Reaching up, taller than Thane, I pulled the book out with ease. He wouldn't have been able to get to it himself. Too high over his head. Too far beyond his own reach. I gave the book to him. Annoyingly, Thane gave me a blank look in return. Blinking those large, dark eyes of his. Not knowing what to say.

Completely disregarding the point of my visit, I told him, "I'll see you back on the _Normandy,_ Thane."

Leaving that annoyance behind, I left the bookstore. I sent Miranda a message, hoping to meet up with her soon. I needed to get the hell away from whatever had just happened. I didn't have the time—or the energy—to make sense of Thane's strangeness around me. I had enough shit going on today as it was.

* * *

Still on the Presidium at evening time, though the Citadel's manufactured sun continued to shine as daytime: Miranda asked me to meet her at Apollo's Café. To get something to eat, and drink, and to wind down from the day. And obviously to talk in-person about everything going on with me, finally.

Arriving near the Meridian Place shopping area, I found a decent amount of people here. Friends and families together, sitting along the benches. Sitting at extra tables around. Standing, mingling. Shopping at the kiosks downstairs. Gazing out to this closer, different view of the lake just nearby. No matter what went on with me, life on the Citadel continued. Everyone's pleasant day continued. Everyone's worries blew behind them in the faint breeze, with this peaceful reign ruling on across the elite of the galaxy.

This outdoor café had enough privacy for us, anyway. Even with plenty of bystanders looking this way.

Those pleasing clicks and thuds of Miranda's heels sounded along the ground behind me.

Pleasing more, Miranda came into my full view, smiling brighter and more beautiful than all.

"Shepard, darling," she murmured, kissing my jaw, skin _heating._ "There you are. I've missed you today."

This new pet name, her softly vibrant mood, and this midnight scent of her perfume had me wanting.

"I missed you, too…"

Miranda smiled more over my shyness. "Why don't we sit down and eat? We have a lot to talk about."

"Where did you want to sit?" I asked, looking around. "There's enough free tables closer to the lake. Should have some privacy. We can go over there if you'd like."

"That would be lovely, yes."

Leading the way, holding her hand, I walked with Miranda to the table she had her eye on. This short flight of steps down—I lifted her wrist upward, regal in intent. Chivalrous and considerate as my habits. She smiled more, then, knowing we had so many eyes on us. Even more as I helped her sit down first, before I took my own seat adjacent to her, next to her. I envied how the sun shined over her uniform, shaping the perfection of her body. Her poised posture, still somehow relaxed. Her _presence_ with me.

We stayed here for a little while, enjoying the view. The conversation soon led to food, with Miranda already knowing what I wanted. As amused as she was—as predictable as I was—she decided we would share this inevitable salad. But she insisted that we both get cups of warm herbal tea. To relax over.

Miranda was the boss.

We went with her suggestions.

Sharing this meal together, I asked how Miranda's day went first. Shopping here on the Citadel with Mordin, EDI, and Legion for that combat sim project. Miranda was all too happy to tell me about the outing with them. As she spoke, her love for me felt beyond apparent. Such a pleasant lilt to her tone, the softness of her refined accent. The cadence of her voice, I followed right along with this metronome in my heart, rumbling in rhythm, at that same frequency. Even this look in her eyes, of steel blue that should've been so cold, so mechanical, unreachable. She wholly embraced me with her tender gaze.

Elsewhere, a distraction pulled me out of the moment.

Across the way, at the bar just up the steps, I took note of someone staring at us. The familiar, grumpy asari bartender there. Watching us in between her meager efforts to wipe down the bar's slick surface. I could've sworn I'd seen her somewhere before. Wasn't she on Illium? _Eternity._ Was she following us?

"Shepard," said Miranda, easing my attention back. "Is something wrong? I lost you for a moment."

"It's probably nothing," I told her.

_"Probably?"_

"Not a big deal," I tried again. "Have you ever been here before? To this café."

"Mmm, a few times. The name holds a certain appeal for me."

"Apollo? The Greek god of the sun."

"Yes, the very same," she replied, good mood returning. "This goes back to our first date in San Diego. When I told you about my past. The scare I had, when I thought I might've been sterile."

"You said…you had a name picked out and everything. That's why it was so devastating at the time."

Sipping her warm tea, Miranda gave me a look from behind her cup.

Smoldering, steaming. Exactly like the herbal essence passing her lips.

Suddenly thirsty, I licked my own lips. Her full meaning passed through me, filling my chest with nerves.

Reminding me all over again—of my resolve, my refusals—I let this meaning sink in. These private fears accosted me anyway. Not wondering _if_ I would ever take that step with Miranda, but _when._ And even _when_ we did, the risks could have undone me. If the war was still on, would I run away with them? Run away if things reached that point. Hiding to survive and protect them. Forgetting about the invasion.

These fluttering fears of mine definitely put my earlier panicking into perspective.

Oblivious to my thoughts, Miranda continued on, "If not Apollo, then Adonis would be nice. It's quite a distinguished name with a distinguished meaning. Maybe a little pretentious. But, all things considered, that's difficult to escape with me." Her additional meaning pulled at me again. "So, then, what's going on with you? I've felt your emotions crashing around all day long. What started all of this?"

"Well, there are two stages," I began.

"Two stages," repeated Miranda, engaged and intrigued. "All right. Take me through them."

"I found EDI in Chora's Den earlier today. She asked me about Liara. Then that led to EDI wondering about my priorities. Asking why I never dedicated any resources…to bringing Liara back. Back to life."

I'd expected this talk to go horribly wrong.

I'd expected to ruin Miranda's good mood.

Instead, this pause only reinforced her thinking from today. She considered my words, carefully, but she found no harm in them. She listened to me without panicking. She stayed steady.

"Go on," she requested.

"EDI thinks it's possible. Through Insomnia. She said I should ask you about it, since you might know more. And then, at the movies, Tali asked me for a favor. I feel obligated to do it. After what happened."

Miranda understood. "Tali asked you to bring Liara back."

"Yes…she did."

"Hmm, how fascinating," she remarked. Sitting back in her chair, legs crossed, Miranda speculated out loud: "It's quite feasible, actually. Through Insomnia. I would assume EDI arrived to this conclusion based on the nature of Liara's bond with you. I need more details. What exactly did she say about this?"

"It's that bond, like you said. Liara's death was probably unconventional. Her life force exists within me. In my mind. The unconscious reaches of my mind. Without that VR game, this wouldn't be possible."

"I see what EDI means now. In that case, we should be able to enter Insomnia and find Liara directly. Since she's an incredible exception, her omni-tool should work the same as ours. Just make sure she's with one of us, at minimum, when quitting the game. She'll appear back in 'real life', the same way we did when we left Insomnia before. But something tells me we won't be able to do this right away."

Miranda made it sound so simple.

After all this time, this possibility had evaded me, the both of us. Yet here we were, so close to change.

"Why not?" I asked. "Do we need to wait first?"

"I don't think it's about _waiting._ Remember, Insomnia changes over time. It changes with you while we're not actively playing. So I want you to keep this feeling in mind. Allow it to simmer. Hopefully, the next time we enter, Liara's location will no longer be hidden to us. Or perhaps it was really in plain sight, and we simply never noticed it. Once enough time passes, we'll re-enter the game and go find her."

"Okay…how much time do you think needs to pass?"

"That depends," said Miranda. "You spoke with everyone today. In your opinion, whose personal mission sounds the most urgent?"

"Garrus," I replied. "He wants to head to Palaven for his mission. After we wrap up Eden Prime."

"Then we'll return to Insomnia after we finish his mission. Find Liara's location. Bring her back with us."

"All right, but—aren't you worried?"

Miranda gave me an easy smile. "No, Shepard. I'm not worried."

I wanted to know, "Then how did you view her before? What did you think of her? The two of you only talked in-person that one day."

"Mmm, we did. I'd hoped to be Liara's friend. If nothing else. During the Lazarus Project, I dreamt about her quite often. She would reassure me that I was on the right track. Encouraging me to take those risks. To do what I did for you in the end. Now that we have insomnia, I haven't seen her since."

"Even knowing my history with her…you aren't concerned?"

Miranda kept an air of sophisticated wisdom about her. "Well, I take it you've been agonizing over this. You never really took the time to remember her. To process things. We were off to the mission, off on our date, off on our journey of taking our time together. And now we're in a relationship. I'm wondering if you have any regrets with me. Any second-thoughts. I already know the answer. I only want to hear you say it."

"None."

"And that's why I'm not worried."

She saw enough of my weaknesses:

I felt the true beginnings of that sensation—everything hitting me.

But I pushed it back. I was able to do it. Push this back to a more convenient time. Stave it off for now.

Not for much longer.

"Shepard," she whispered, leaning closer to me. "I feel you with me. I know you're not straying. I know you don't plan on leaving me over this. Leaving me for her. Leaving me behind. You wouldn't do that."

"Babe, of course I wouldn't…"

Reaching across, Miranda picked up my fork. "Then it's all right," she soothed. Forking some of the salad left on our plate, she brought it to my mouth. Accepting her care, I let her feed me. "I still need to think things over. Again, not in a bad way." As I chewed, Miranda brought her lips to my jaw again. Watching this food fill me; glad that I had this sustenance. "You are the light of my life. That will never change."

She touched my skin, heating with embarrassment again.

So many eyes on us.

Miranda laughed softly in my ear. "Let them stare."

Making a point, she gave me my tea, holding the cup with both hands. Making sure I accepted this from her; making sure that I drank this herbal heat. Making sure I had everything that I needed in this way.

Then Miranda stood up, by my side. She leaned down a bit. Wrapping her arms around my shoulders, around my head. Gently tangling her presence around me. She kept me close to her, insulating. Hiding me away from those eyes, that other attention. Submerging me into her heat, her care, her perfume.

"Your emotions will catch up in time," she whispered. "But I don't want you to worry. You can miss her. Lust after her. Want her. However you feel is valid. I won't judge you, or get upset." Miranda knew she had my throat stinging—stinging from this weakness I swallowed back. "Whatever happens, we'll figure this out. Just remember, I'm here if you need me. I'm not going anywhere, either. You know that."

More reassurances Miranda gave me, about going home. Seeing the sun. Spending time together on the beach. And me showing her that particular something I talked about, from my hometown. Her kindness radiated everywhere, warming me more in her hold. Her exact bond with me, melding us together on-lock—mind-to-mind, heart-to-heart. And these whispers of her sun, as only I was. Privileged to live under her, over her. Solar dynamics reaching high.


	46. Sunny San Diego

_"While We're Young" by Jhené Aiko_

**XLVI.** Sunny San Diego

_(Shepard)_

Landing back at my hometown, a few days into April, I finally appreciated the springtime. Perfection of these blue skies, cloudless and free. Persistence of the sun's rays shining down on my team, just as we exited the Alliance's Coronado base together, where we'd docked the _Normandy._ And the purity of the day, the clarity all around, of such cleanliness and moderate temperatures. Gentleness of the breeze and the smiling warmth of the sun—much like Miranda with me, her hand in mine as we walked together. Her easy mood hadn't left her in these recent days. This same ease about her, I felt all around.

And this fresh smell of the San Diego Bay nearby encapsulated everything.

That glittering blue greeted us along the horizon, as the team split up for the time being. Agreeing to meet up at the beach later, Zaeed, Mordin, Legion, Thane, Kasumi, EDI, and Samara went off own their own, mostly to take a look around town. Meanwhile, Miranda stayed with me, along with Tali, Garrus, Kaidan, Joker, and Jack. We made our way to the monorail station together. Heading back to my apartment first, I'd show everyone my place, and then pick up my car. We'd then drive to that beach to hang out with everyone for a while. I expected to meet up with Lieutenant Vega sometime afterward.

In the meantime, we left the _Normandy_ at the Alliance base. I gave their technicians and engineers the go-ahead to help install a few upgrades for the ship. Improved kinetic barriers, that Thanix cannon Garrus had recommended to me some time ago, and a few other bits and pieces. Having those Alliance people back aboard inspired an idea in me. After the mission, I definitely needed to bring the ship back again—not just for upgrades, but for complete retrofits. I refused to fight against the Reapers while flying a _Cerberus_ frigate with the Illusive Man's tech, and eyes, everywhere. I wanted my Alliance ship back. So as soon as the suicide mission was over, I planned on making this Coronado base our first stop.

I accepted the hypocrisy of my thinking:

Leading Miranda by her hand, we found a seat on this monorail car. I let her sit by the window, as she'd requested earlier, and sat next to her. As she gazed out at the preliminary view of the city, Tali took the free seat next to me. Jack and the guys populated the nearby spaces, talking together and joking around. We'd attracted a lot of attention. For obvious reasons—with everyone recognizing that I was back home with my team. Because the others had this jovial ease about them, not really staying confined to their seats as they interacted with each other. Sitting together, across the aisle, goofing off; messing around, almost like kids on a school bus. They smiled as much as the sun did as the monorail car took off.

At the very least, I was glad that Tali's mood had improved. Much like the elevation of this car taking us over the bay, I heard the rise in her mood through her voice. That smile behind her mask—Tali joined in on everyone's conversation like normal. With my promise from the other day, I'd secured Tali's peace of mind. Maybe not her renewed loyalty, but it was enough for now. She and Jack could even talk to each other like regular friends. No awkwardness or strained sexual tension. They were _cool_ with one another.

The only one missing was Liara.

I could only set this aside for so long. I had the willpower today.

Tomorrow was another story.

Today, on this day, I accepted the bombast, the breeze of it all.

I could stay neutral enough, enjoying this time. Enjoying the way my team took in the sights of my home's neighborhood once we arrived. Packed, dense, livable, and always with that gold beaming everywhere, from the windows to the street lamps to the signs everywhere. I liked how Tali and the others took in this novelty, finally seeing where I chose to live. I liked hearing their comments, how impressed they were by the lobby to my apartment complex. I liked that Miranda was so relaxed with me, here by my side, enjoying this as much as I did. If not more. But still she kept a close watch on me.

Heading up this elevator to the 34th floor, I felt Miranda's fixations on me. Not too obvious. Not too obtrusive, so as to give anything away. Everyone else kept on with their conversations. They didn't suspect a thing. They didn't see or notice this internal clock ticking down for me. Down to the worst.

Down this hallway to my door, I remembered my past secrets. Almost sneaking around. Around my birthday that time, arriving to the city after Thessia. How I hadn't invited Ashley here on my own. I'd purposely asked Liara to come over. For us to spend time together; get to know each other again, after I'd already told Ash that I would make her mine. Yet I'd still chosen to bring Liara back to my place anyway. I'd chosen to show her around the city, the places I was from. I'd chosen to bring her here again, while we'd still had time, for us to sit in my room and talk. Getting so very close to sex—enough that I'd taken her clothes off, making her the first woman to ever be like that in my bed. But I'd stopped.

Stopped because of the guilt—from fooling around, from almost _getting into trouble._

Stopped because I'd known what would happen if we'd gone through with it.

That still hadn't stopped me from wanting Liara long after the fact.

"Welcome home, Commander Shepard."

Hearing this greeting from my VI, I linked that soothing to her. Her own voice. What I remembered.

"Holy shit!" said Jack. "Shepard, your apartment's fucking huge! Look at this place!"

Garrus complimented, "It's pretty nice, that's for sure. I'm impressed."

"Same here," agreed Kaidan. "Mind if we take a look around?"

Instinctually, I responded, "Go ahead."

Joker grinned, leading the others ahead. "You know what, Commander? This isn't too far off from what I pictured. Sniper rifles, tons of video games, nice furniture, awesome interior design. It's very— _you."_

Automatic, Tali gravitated to the guest room. I expected her to find Liara's picture with me on my desk.

But I couldn't let myself focus on that. Dwelling on those faraway thoughts only pulled me away. Away from this day. Too far away from Miranda. Now wasn't the time. Not until I couldn't resist it anymore.

Heading to the couch with Miranda, we sat down, to take a breather. As I needed. Not her. She was thoughtful enough to not make a big deal out of it. We had some privacy, for a bit, while the others looked around. They knew not to go down the hallway, as that led to my room. Sticking to the guest room, the kitchen, and the living room space around, they took in the sights, this feeling. This feeling of my home that had kept me for over a decade. Kept me together, kept me out of trouble. Kept me safe.

Just as Miranda did now, leaning on me like this.

"Mmm, this is different," she mentioned. "Having them around. Here in your home. It almost seems as if your apartment isn't used to having this many guests. Do you feel awkward at all?"

"A little bit," I replied. Using my omni-tool, I turned on the TV for some white noise. "That should help."

Miranda smiled over the fashion program currently on.

I asked her, "So what did you want to do today? Aside from going to the beach with everyone else."

"I'm not sure, actually," she admitted. "Which beach are we going to?"

"La Jolla Shores. It's a pretty nice area a little farther out from here. There's a lot to do over there."

"I'd like that a lot. It sounds wonderful, really. Although, since we're back in San Diego, I'm assuming you're not taking me to Mister A's. The one here. Not so soon after we went to the one on Illium."

Warmed by the memory, I told her, "Not this time, babe. Later on, we will. I plan on it."

"I'll hold you to that. And when will you show me that certain something here in your hometown?"

"Tomorrow night," I decided.

Miranda wondered, "Hmm, does it have to be at night?"

"It needs to be. We don't have to do anything during the day before then. Just relax while we can."

And I said that, knowing what my panicking had scheduled for tomorrow. No escape.

When the others wandered somewhere behind the couch, talking about my video game collection—how impressed they were—I felt a shift somewhere. Somewhere in me, needing a minute. Needing to get away. Not used to having this many people in my apartment. Not sure how to exist in my own space with this many voices behind me. Especially with my emotions going haywire lately. Introverted, with only so much energy to expend with people, I needed to replenish my reserves sooner rather than later.

Considerate as always, Miranda moved closer to me, settling her hand over my arm. Gentle, supportive.

She then whispered in my ear, "Go ahead to your bedroom. Get changed, take a moment. Recharge. Let me play host while you do that. I'll see if the others would like a drink or something."

"You sure?"

"Yes, of course I am. I'll take care of it. We can head off whenever you're ready."

Subtle enough, I settled my lips over her forehead. Thanking Miranda this way. She gave a sound of satisfaction, before letting me stand from the couch, watching me walk down the hall to my room.

As I went, I ran my hand through my hair, along the top of my head. Ruffling, fanning myself. Fanning away this anxiety dripping down my scalp, down my skin, down my sanity. Pushing myself and locking myself to this persona—it all proved much harder to do on a day like this.

Still, I found enough peace again, alone in the quiet of my bedroom. Cleanliness. Order. Familiarity in this stillness, of these calming browns and subtle golds everywhere. Everything perfectly untouched from the last time I was here with Miranda those weeks ago. Almost two months to the day when we'd first arrived together, after all that had gone down on the _Normandy._ The lasting touch of the everlasting light outside found me, even in the sunlight. Not as much as it permeated at night. Enough to relax me, with this simple reminder of _home._ Exactly as I needed, replenishing my reserves already.

I went over to my holo-closet, changing out of my Alliance fatigues.

Getting out of that mindset: being on the mission, being a marine, being who I was supposed to be. I wanted to let that go for a little while. At least until we had to leave again. So I settled on a respectable change. White button-down shirt, pressed and steamed already. Dark jeans for the contrast. Pointed leather boots, running high enough up my ankles to keep any sand from getting in on the beach. Finding my brush nearby, I ran these bristles through my hair, feeling almost like a massage against my scalp. A much-needed massage, easing this anxiety away. Even as I heard laughter echoing from down the hall.

And as I kept brushing my hair, I noticed something off about my room.

My windowsill seemed empty. This particular one that used to have Liara's picture with me. The nightstands, too. Both of them. I had nothing there anymore. Nothing of Ashley with me. Nothing at all.

Spritzing some cologne on, I replaced that emptiness with this sense of me.

This sense of me, this scent that I'd first picked up to impress Miranda with. To distinguish from the past.

Distinguished with my easier mood for the day, I left my room. Leaving with everyone to my car. Leaving to the beach, to that eternal sunlight. Spending this time with Miranda, this spring while we were young.

* * *

Palm trees all around, swaying in the light breeze. Pearl white shores of sand lining for miles; the deep, deep blue ebbing and flowing of the sea. Waters perfectly clean. Gleaming in a sheen. And the city's many towers scraping the sea and skies alike, glimmering in those darkened chromes in the sunlight.

Driving my car to the parking lot nearest the shore, I found myself breathing easier.

Even with Tali and the others sitting in the backseat—almost stacked on top of each other, funnily enough—I was ready for the rest of the day. With Miranda sitting next to me, she gave off that same infectious ease about her, lending some to me. I wondered how exactly she planned on enjoying the beach in that Cerberus uniform of hers. Not that we were going in the water or anything. I'd never risk getting my hair wet like that. Just being here with Miranda was more than good enough for me.

And we had that, shared that on the beach, walking around together. Holding hands. Staying with each other. Having this closeness to our stride. Having this unspoken between us—the subtlety of Miranda's smile and mine. That shine of her Miranda's crystalline eyes in the sunlight, and the smoother one of her lips, the slight gloss there. Completely mesmerizing. She helped me forget the rest; what I didn't need.

The rest of the team eventually made their way here. Over time, I saw Zaeed, Mordin, Samara, and everyone else spread along the shore. Joker and Kaidan had already kicked back together, sitting somewhere in the center of the sand—clearly having a serious conversation about something. Kasumi was…here but not here. Cloaked and meandering around—before Jack found her, asking Kasumi why she was like this. Thane and Samara talked together while also sitting side by side—and I assumed Thane was perfectly fine with the dry heat here, not humid at all, as he required. Tali and Garrus had wandered closer to the shore, amusing themselves with the tides. Mordin wasn't too far away from them, seemingly studying the seashells over there. Zaeed stood by himself a ways away—well over by the long, raised pier off in the distance—probably thinking over his latest situation. Understandably so.

Interacting with one another, Legion and EDI remained a fair distance away from the water. I wasn't sure just how water-proof their platforms were, if at all. Better to not take the risk.

Miranda's voice smoothed over my senses. "So, you seem to be in a better mood."

"Maybe," I allowed, staring down at our synced steps. "I've never done this before. I like it a lot."

"You've never held someone's hand and gone for a walk on the beach?"

"I haven't. You're my first. In a lot of ways."

"Well, it is special," she mused, glancing at the people all around. "This city is your home. I'd want you to take me out like this. At least once. I enjoy being your first in this way. Every way, really."

"Speaking of taking you out," I remembered. "I was wondering…if you wanted to go to a certain club."

Miranda knew. "You mean the 94."

"Doesn't have to be tonight. I just figured, since it's such an important place, maybe you had it in mind."

"I do, actually. Perhaps we could go tomorrow evening. After our other plans for the night."

Miranda was _really_ curious about these other plans.

"We can do that," I accepted. "If you're still up for it by then."

"You mean I might not be?"

"It's possible. We'll have to wait and see."

Curious and all, I brought Miranda closer to the shore. Stepping across these generous mounds of sand, I knew she had her eye on Mordin now, what he was doing. She soon asked Mordin just that—trying to figure out why he'd devoted his free time to running tests on seashells. Mordin was all too happy to answer Miranda's questions, soon roping her into a conversation about the whole thing. I barely paid attention, more caught up with Garrus and Tali's discussion just nearby. They seemed concerned about how serious Kaidan and Joker's discussion was, wondering what was going on over there. Garrus decided to go investigate, promising to provide Tali with an update soon. And Tali remained close to the shore, taking a seat over the sand now. Thinking; gazing out to the sea. Half-worried about the others.

More worried about other things, other concerns. Such obvious worries and concerns after our last talk.

Bent legs pulled to her chest, arms wrapped around, she seemed more or less okay. But I knew better.

Mindful of the waters moving along the shore, I went over to Tali's side.

Tali looked up at me, like looking up at the faraway sky.

"Hey, Tali."

"Hello, Shepard," she said. "I'm glad you brought us here. Your beaches are very beautiful. It'll be nice to have these memories once we leave for Eden Prime. I'll want to carry them with me for the fight."

"You sound kind of nostalgic," I noticed. "Does Rannoch have a lot of beaches, too?"

"It does, but they're not quite the same. My homeworld has more of a rocky terrain. Several seas and different marine life. Our ecological systems are nothing like the ones around us now. I enjoy seeing the differences for myself. Especially since I've only been able to read about my homeworld secondhand."

"Well, I'm happy I could show you something new."

Tali caught the way I ended my words.

I had no idea if we were actually on better terms or not.

Yeah, I'd made those promises the other day on the Citadel, during the vid.

I wasn't sure if that was _enough_ for her. Or if that was only a one-off thing. If I had more work to do.

Generously, Tali beckoned me over. "Come sit with me, Shepard. We should talk, shouldn't we?"

Sitting down over the sand next to her, I definitely agreed. But I couldn't make myself say as much.

"This is—difficult," she admitted. Tali sighed in-time with the waters brushing along the shore. "You and Miranda are going strong together. And I'm happy for you both. I worried what I might stir up with my request, about Liara. It was selfish of me to ask. But you seem to be all right. Or am I wrong about that?"

"I'm having…more of a mixed reaction."

"When you put it that way, it makes me worry about you."

With Miranda and Mordin still engaged in conversation, seashells on full display, I had to stay right here.

Right here in this moment, with Tali showing me her worry. Unable to escape her care for me, unhidden.

"Tali, you don't need to worry about me," I insisted. "It's a nice day out. We should set all of this aside."

"Really, Shepard?" she questioned. "That sounds nothing like you. It's not helping either of us. At all."

"I know. But all I can do is see what happens from here. I'm not sure what else you want me to say."

"I want you to tell me what's been on your mind. About this. Specifically."

"You already know the answer to that," I evaded.

Tali put two and two together. "And yet you still plan on _trying._ Trying to be with Miranda properly."

"Yeah, that _is_ the plan. Miranda's worth it. Even if I'm not completely convinced I'm worthy of her."

"Well…for the record, I think the two of you will be fine. The memories will be tricky to deal with. Going to Eden Prime; finding this Prothean artifact without Liara there. I wish she could be with us for the mission. She'd want to see this artifact, whatever it is. I'm sure Garrus will be thinking of her, too. Kaidan's done his best not to mention Ashley around us. I already know he's been remembering her."

"I don't blame him for it," I said. "They were close back in the day."

Tali wondered, "You don't miss her at all?"

"Not like that."

"So it's just Liara, then."

"Yeah…just Liara," I agreed. And I remembered Miranda's words from the other day. "You could say she's something of an executive in my mind. Always has been, despite how many times I've tried convincing myself otherwise. You are, too, for that matter. You, Liara, Miranda. Probably the guys as well—if not in the same ways. I know I keep my distance a lot of the time. But you each have this place."

"This place in your mind, hm? We each have our own roles, working to keep you going as our captain?"

I shrugged. "If you wanna put it that way, sure."

Tali giggled.

"Yes, I like the sound of it. I like knowing that we matter. That we're important to you. You trust us. After how long you've spent on your own, I'm happy you've given us these roles of ours. It may take a while longer for you to trust the newer members of the team. Hopefully things will improve over time."

I wasn't too sure about that. "Yeah, we'll see…"

Giving me a once-over, Tali seemed to have something else on her mind. Something else she wanted to discuss. Something I wished she would say already—instead of just looking at me. Staring now, really.

"What is it, Tali?"

"It's nothing," she claimed. "I just…enjoy seeing you like this. Outside the ship. Seeing your apartment, how you live. Sitting in the back of your car while you drove us here to the beach, with that special music of yours blasting the way it did. Seeing you now: how you dress, how nice your cologne smells, how handsome and beautiful you are. How you hold yourself with such confidence. How you keep it together with everything going on. You're completely different from anyone I've ever known. _I guess that's why…_ This hasn't gone away."

I asked the only thing I could, "Does it bother you?"

Tali answered, "Not anymore. I've accepted the way things are. Maybe it's why I'm latching onto this memory of Liara now. If you really are able to bring her back, I think we would all be better off. It wouldn't just be me. I can only hope it won't cause too much trouble for you. That isn't what I want."

"I appreciate that, Tali. We'll have to wait and see. It's all we _can_ do at this point. I should be fine."

"Hmm. I'll take your word for it, then."

Hearing the sounds of approaching footsteps in the sand, I stood up on instinct.

Joker, Garrus, Kaidan, and Jack came over to us.

I helped Tali up with me, wondering what this was about.

"Hey, Shepard!" said Jack. "Where're we going next? What's the plan? We gonna stay somewhere near here? 'Cause this beach is pretty damn good."

Joker agreed, "Yeah, what she said."

Kaidan added, "Seriously, this place is the best! Think we could go to those tourist things nearby? Like the aquarium."

"Being a tourist for the day sounds nice," decided Garrus.

I didn't really have plans for today that included _all of them…_

Noticing my dilemma, Miranda came over to us. "What's going on? Are we leaving _now?"_

Jack decided for me—"Whenever Shepard says we're leaving, yeah. _Wherever_ we're going. Right?"

Tali also noticed I was at a loss.

I'd assumed they would all go off on their way at some point. Leaving me to spend the rest of the day with Miranda, wherever she felt like going. But apparently, they all wanted us to stay together. Tali included, despite what she saw of me. She had her hopes, too. So I had to figure out a solution here.

"Hold on," I told them, checking my omni-tool.

Teeming with excitement, Joker, Jack, Kaidan, and Garrus started speculating among themselves. Wondering what else the day had in-store. Imagining what else my hometown had to offer them. Tali humored their conversations as well, pretending not to notice the clear disruptions to my itinerary. Amused by my situation, Miranda listened in on the talks, chiming in every so often. Staying next to me.

Since they wanted to be tourists, I tried to think of a good fit. I personally didn't want to be a tourist in my own city. So I searched my omni-tool for a compromise. Remembering with my search: I recalled one of San Diego's classic landmarks nearby—and still on the beach. One I hadn't been to in a long while. It was supposed to be high tide soon, all throughout the evening. Just what I needed to make this work.

"All right, I found something," I announced. "There's this place not too far from here, still on La Jolla Shores. It's called the Marine Room. We can go there for happy hour. Starts in a few minutes."

"The Marine Room?" echoed Kaidan. "What is that? Some sort of military place? Marines, like us."

"Not at all. You'll see."

Jack said, "Hell, I'm down for some drinks. Bring it on!"

Joker told me, "Hey, Commander, all this mystery's kind of exciting. You should do this more often!"

Everyone else agreed, following behind as I led the way back to my car. They all speculated again.

Linking her arm through mine, Miranda teased me a bit. "Stuck playing host this time, hm?"

I sighed. "Looks like it."

"Well, I'm sure we'll enjoy whatever you've picked out. I know I certainly will. This Marine Room sounds fascinating already. I have a few ideas in mind about what it might be. As do the others by now."

"I'm hoping you like it, yes. No guarantees."

"Shepard, you can give yourself more credit than that. Your sense of taste is impeccable. Truly, it is."

As yet another curveball today, I received an alert to my omni-tool. An email—not from the Council yet, thankfully. But instead one from James, already. I'd planned on him contacting me at some point today. But not while I was supposed to be playing host like this. Yet another issue to figure out in a short time.

_From: Vega, Lieutenant – Ready to go._

_Commander,_

_Sorry for the wait. I'm finally ready to head out if you are. Think we could meet up sometime soon? I know we're supposed to be on standby and all, until the Council gives us the go-ahead. Wouldn't mind meeting you today, though. Been a while since we last saw each other at the Super Bowl. You know._

_Something tells me a lot's changed since then. Or maybe I'm wrong. You tell me. I'd sure like to know._

_-James_

.

_To: Vega, Lieutenant – Re: Ready to go._

_Lieutenant,_

_I understand about the wait. We're technically on shore leave until the Council contacts me. I'm currently with some of my team right now. We're on our way to the Marine Room for happy hour. You're free to join us if you'd like. We're just a short drive away. Whenever you can get there would be fine. I'm paying for everyone, so don't worry about money._

_Yes, a lot has changed since then. You'll find out just how much after you join up. It's better this way._

_-Shepard_

.

_From: Vega, Lieutenant – Re: Ready to go._

_Commander,_

_Oh, shit, the Marine Room? Up in La Jolla Shores? Well aren't you fancy? Glad you're paying!_

_I'm just kidding. I'll be there as soon as I can. I'm way down in San Ysidro. You know what this traffic's like._

_Looking forward to meeting your team, too._

_-James_

* * *

Situated a little closer to the Underwater Park, I drove Miranda and the others to the Marine Room's location. Not an _actual_ park underwater—just the designated area for people who liked scuba diving and snorkeling, here at the La Jolla Bay. That same bay provided the exact novelty I planned for, with our particular trip to this particular restaurant. Several other restaurants and hotels populated the space a few blocks away, with various resorts and high-end, members-only clubs closer to the Room itself. All that competition couldn't come close to what this place meant to the city, as a landmark. The Marine Room had endured after all these years, while I could barely remember the names of whichever new restaurants had popped up down the block. That endurance still meant something to me even now.

Red-orange of the sturdy tile roofs came into view first. The Marine Room was nowhere near as tall as the buildings nearby and in the distance. But it didn't need to be. Sitting right on the surf of the shores, the windows and walls withstood the growing tides ebbing against the surfaces. And the people currently inside the building had a front-row view to the natural spectacle, all while they ate their meals or drank their wines and champagnes. This should have been dangerous. But the building was risk-proof.

As soon as Miranda and the others saw it for themselves, they had their own reactions. Their own excitement. Their own curiosities. Each wanting to see the action up-close. I touched down with my car, parking us close by. And then we made the short walk to the restaurant itself.

Inside, the Marine Room looked just as I remembered it. This feel of sophistication in a beach house, the softness of the white interior, and the shadowed contrast of the darker flooring. The elevation started right away, entering the building at the top floor. Giving us this overview of everyone seated at their tables together, with the full light of the sunny day shining in. As ever, I felt an easygoing vibe all around. More family-oriented than I was used to. But no kids running around or anything. Orderly.

I walked with Miranda, Tali, Garrus, Kaidan, Jack, and Joker downstairs, watching their varied surprise at the scenes. The high tide crashed against the windows in a controlled sense of chaos. The tide shadowed the windows for mere seconds, before receding back to the sea, waiting for the rhythm to repeat again. Anyone sitting closest to the windows—some of them jumped in a minor fright, laughing with nerves.

"Look at those tides!" said Kaidan. "It's like the windows are made of steel… Wow!"

Miranda sounded satisfied. "How dramatic. Though I have to say, I enjoy this already. I adore the view."

Tali, Garrus, and Jack each had a quiet awe about them, soaking everything in. Figuratively speaking.

Joker asked me, "Shepard, how'd you even know about this place? It's frickin' bonkers—in a good way!"

Kaidan wondered, "Commander, do you know the history of this building? Like when it was first built?"

I guided everyone to the happy hour lounge, explaining, "It's been around for centuries. I want to say since World War II. Back then, there weren't many regulations about how far the buildings had to be from the shore line. They could get away with it at the time. No one else can do the same these days."

"That's some amazing trivia. Has the sea water ever burst through at all? Not recently, I hope."

"Once, a long time ago. Hasn't happened since. The windows are pretty tough now. We'll be safe here."

We sat down at a table together at the oceanfront lounge.

The others took such careful note of my manners, helping Miranda into her chair first, before anything. I felt their specific attention on me—and Miranda with me—while we all spent this time together. They paid attention to every little detail. How close Miranda sat next to me. Her ease with me; how she let me order glasses of Pinot Noir for us both. To deflect from this attention, I tried explaining the menu: the French-inspired cuisine, with a global touch. Yet still with a distinctively local signature about it.

And there were plenty of dextro options for Garrus and Tali—as necessary. I wouldn't have brought them here otherwise. They seemed glad to see me include them. Though they weren't too surprised.

After a little while, the high tide rushing against the windows kept everyone distracted enough. Distracted, so as to not pay such excessive attention to Miranda sitting next to me, the two of us together. Every so often, I'd notice one of them staring a little too hard whenever I made Miranda smile or laugh a bit. But I guessed this was manageable enough. I tried not to blame them for their curiosities. Natural and all.

The team relaxed a little more as time went on, as the drinks went on.

No one even made a big deal once I lounged my arm around Miranda's shoulders. Calming, tranquil.

Miranda's mood definitely improved over my gesture. Even in such subtle ways, as reserved as she was.

Joker, Kaidan, Tali, and Garrus amused themselves by staring out the window—commentating on all the people surfing across the way. Meanwhile, Jack and Miranda held a conversation. Maybe an unexpected one, with the others possibly listening in. They were still distracted enough. With nothing going on until James arrived, I eavesdropped, keeping my arm around Miranda's shoulders; sipping my glass of wine.

Subtly leaning into me more, Miranda asked, "Doesn't your mother live in Los Angeles?"

"Yeah, apparently," replied Jack. "She's one of those fancy doctors. Some kinda biotic-brain surgeon. Makes a ton of money. Bet she'd fit right in here, in a place like this. It got me thinking, you know?"

"Perhaps you should go see her."

"You mean now?! Like, today?"

"I don't see why not."

Jack protested, "That's… _way too_ involved. We're gonna be leaving soon, aren't we? Why the hell would I do that? Put myself through all that emotional shit. Right before a mission? Are you _smoking_ or what?"

Contented by me, Miranda curled back her smile. "I'm not smoking anything, Jack. I don't do that."

"Uh-huh," said Jack, eyes narrowed in suspicion. "Anyway. I was thinking of going up there tonight. Not to actually see my Mom. Just to, like, scope out her house or something. It'll be like a stakeout! Kasumi offered to join up. She's gonna give me some tips. That's as far as it'll get with me… At least for now."

"Well, I encourage you to do so. Maybe it will lead to something more in the future. You never know."

Meanwhile, Kaidan and the others carried on a similar conversation of their own across from us.

"I think I will, actually," he said. "Doesn't take too long to get to Vancouver from where we are now. Pretty short trip from the Coronado base. Figured I might head up home after dinner. Visit my parents. See how they're doing. Ideally make my way back down tomorrow. You're free to join me if you'd like."

Joker agreed, "Yeah, we should. Heck, I haven't been up to Canada in who knows how long."

"I'd love to see where you're from," said Tali. "Or just seeing more of Earth in general."

Garrus asked, "Say, Kaidan, is it true what humans say about Canadians?"

"Dude, Garrus," complained Joker. "Do _not_ get him started on that crap!"

"Sorry, not sure I follow," apologized Kaidan. "There are a few stereotypes. Which ones do you mean?"

None of them seemed to notice the irony.

Upstairs by the entrance, I spotted James there, looking around. The bronze complexion of his skin and the military quality of his haircut stood out to me. And I saw those other, undeniable tells about him: his muscles rippling through the tight gray of his Alliance shirt, the sharp styles of his tattoos protruding from his neckline, and just his overall stature. Not quite hulking—he was somehow shorter than me—but enough to startle a few other customers walking by him. So I knew I had to get over to him soon.

I smoothed my hand down Miranda's shoulder, signaling enough.

Miranda gave a low, soft hum of acknowledgment, signaling enough right back. Still speaking with Jack.

Leaving my seat, I went to meet James upstairs. Far enough away for us to have a real conversation first.

Once I reached him, James' eyes lit up. He quickly found his attention. Saluting me with pure respect.

"Commander," he greeted. "It's…good to see you again, Ma'am. Under much different circumstances."

"At ease, James," I told him. "We're at a restaurant. People are staring. This isn't a formal gathering."

"Copy that," accepted James, grinning now. "Never been here before, myself. Just heard stories about it. I'm not surprised this is how you roll. You're a real baller, Commander. Anyone's gotta respect that."

"I do what I can. Nothing more than I need to."

"Yeah, you _would_ say that."

Changing the subject: "So, you sure you're all right working with Cerberus? At least for the time being."

"I mean, it's tough," said James. "Yeah, they've more or less changed their image around. Making that truce with the Alliance. Cerberus doesn't _sound_ so bad anymore. But I know you're just doing your job. Dealing with the Collectors. I owe those sons of bitches for what they did on my last mission. If I was under anyone else's command, I'd be a little wary. Not with you, though. I'm fully committed to this."

"Your last mission was on Fehl Prime. The human colony. Right?"

"Right…"

No getting around it—"The Council already told me enough. You don't have to get into it."

James seemed crestfallen. "Oh. So, then, you know…"

"Yes, I know. I take it you'd rather not be in any leadership positions. For the team."

"…not if I can help it, Ma'am. I'm better off as a regular grunt. Point me at a target and say the word."

"Understood, James."

Glancing around, he noticed Miranda and the others at our table in the lounge.

I could tell he wanted to ask about her. Specifically. About me with her. And about much more.

I informed him, "You'll get the full story once you're aboard. It's in a report for you to read. I just need you to understand that this information is classified. Not many people outside our team know the full truth. As long as you keep this intelligence to yourself, we're golden."

James caught my sense of foreboding. "I hear you loud and clear. Just sounds a little—concerning."

"It's more than just concerning. Like I said, you'll see for yourself."

"Well, my lips are sealed. I'd never betray your confidence like that. In any way whatsoever. I mean it."

Exactly like so many years ago, with someone else so similar to him, I found myself believing his words.

Believing, despite everything to the contrary.

I offered him my hand. "Welcome to the team, James."

Full of pride, James clapped my hand with his larger one. "Thank you, Commander. I've looked up to you as a marine for years. It's the honor of my life to serve on your team. I won't let you down, Ma'am."

Far too many reminders of Ashley, really. But unlike with everything else, these reminders didn't upend me; threaten to end me; threaten to send me into a spiral that awaited me soon, right around the bend. I could look into this dark brown of James' eyes—focused, forged in fire—seeing my old flame staring back at me. Her eyes the same as his. Their forms transposed over one another. Same age, too.

I still had to get used to this.

Even so, I could _live with it._

"I'm assigning you to the armory," I continued on. "You'll be working with our other soldier, Zaeed Massani. I have a feeling you'll be a lot of help for us. You're an arms master, aren't you?"

James flexed his arms, his muscles. "Hell yeah, I am! I can work the team's guns for sure. I got this."

"All right, then," I humored. "I'll introduce you to the team. Obviously, not everyone's here at once. Just a small group. You'll meet the others back on the _Normandy_ once we head to Eden Prime. Come on."

Walking back downstairs with James, I hoped these introductions went well enough.

Even with Miranda cutting him a certain look already. Jack gave him a judgmental side-eye as well.

Kaidan, Tali, Joker, and Garrus seemed far more neutral about this. As I needed them to be.

Arriving at the table, I made the announcement—"Everyone, this is Lieutenant James Vega. As you know, he's a tried-and-tested Alliance soldier. He'll be our junior officer in the armory with Zaeed."

James gave a nervous grin. "Good to meet you all."

Nervous for one specific reason.

But that was all in the past now.

"Hey there, Vega," said Kaidan. "I'm Kaidan Alenko. Great to have another Alliance soldier with us!"

Joker just had to crack a joke, "I know, right? At this rate, we're gonna turn Cerberus into some kinda Alliance black ops program! Who knew we could even do that?! Nice to meet you and all, _by the way."_

James didn't get it. "Uh…isn't that what Cerberus used to be? Kinda?"

Garrus cleared his throat. "Just ignore him, Lieutenant. I'm Garrus Vakarian. Glad to have you aboard."

Tali supplied, "And I'm Tali'Zorah. You might not be able to ignore Joker. He loves the attention."

"Oh, uhh, okay," tried James. "You guys sure seem pretty close… Heard you were on the original team together. So I guess that—makes sense?" He couldn't escape Jack and Miranda's specific gazes. "Err…"

Miranda sounded a little chilly. "Good afternoon, Vega."

"H-Hey there—" James paused. As if he wanted to call Miranda by some kind of nickname. But he quickly thought against it. "Been a while, huh? How's it going? You look… You look—really nice today."

Teasing, brow raised: _"Just_ today?"

"What?! N-No way! Come on, you _know_ that's not what I meant!"

Tali giggled over his misfortune. Joker cracked up laughing alongside her.

Kaidan and Garrus are both shook their heads, exasperated.

Groaning, aggravated, Jack rolled her eyes. "Look at this _musclehead._ Got Miranda back into ice queen mode and everything. Not gonna be a fun ride for you, pal. You'd better buckle up for the long-run!"

Joker insisted, "Seriously, dude, listen to what Jack says. You've _gotta_ relax."

James stared at her blankly. "You're…Jack? Like, that's your name."

"Yeah, obviously," she sniped back. _"Why?_ You got a problem with that, big guy?"

Standing up for himself now, James deflected with sincerity: "No, actually—just never seen such a beautiful girl with so many tattoos. Think I could learn from you about getting some more ink. Wanna tell me what your secrets are? Or do I gotta buy you a drink first? I'm down for whatever if you are."

The _look_ on Jack's face—Joker was about to laugh himself to death. Tali laughed even more, too.

To their credit, Garrus and Kaidan only cracked a little. Going back to their serious modes right after.

Miranda only rolled her eyes, though I could tell she found her own entertainment from this.

I took the chance to sit back down in my seat. James sat across from me in the only free chair left.

Jack barked at him, "Are you shitting me, Vega?! Why the hell would you say that? You're not serious!"

"I kind of am," insisted James. "At the same time, I'm kinda not. Depends where you're going with this."

"Where else would I go with this? It's fucking plain as day! Explain yourself!"

"I mean, I'm not the fraternizing type… Yeah, I'm a huge flirt—I'll admit it. Just don't take me too seriously, like you mentioned. Doesn't take back what I said, though. I'd sure love to buy you a drink any time you want. And not only 'cause you look good. You _are_ pretty hot, Jack. Not gonna lie about that!"

Turned off, Jack scoffed at him.

_"Whatever."_

"I'm just saying."

Everyone eventually returned to their own conversations. More or less accepting James as part of our company now, part of our team, they didn't censor themselves with him around. Not like that. I expected Garrus or whoever else to invite him to that chat room of theirs. It looked like they wanted to ask him. But they still thought they couldn't mention anything around me. So they chose to wait instead.

This natural time passed, from afternoon to evening, happy hour to dinner. The drama from the waves hitting the window eventually subsided. Eating dinner with everyone like this wasn't so strange anymore, as this time passed. Not so anxious anymore. Not so out-of-place anymore, letting my team see me in this setting, spending this type of time with me. But I wouldn't have been able to say that if _everyone_ was here. Just this group. Just Tali, Kaidan, Joker, Garrus. Even James, Jack. Miranda as a given.

Sometime after we finished eating dinner, as the sunset nearly subsided, we were about to go our separate ways. Everyone thanked me for paying; I insisted it was no big deal. Kaidan and the others would go back to the Alliance base, to take a transport up to the main headquarters in Vancouver. Jack would go up to Los Angeles with Kasumi, having a stakeout around her mother's house. James would head back home to spend time with his uncle. Miranda wanted to stay with me—to actually spend some more time alone today, at least until our plans for tomorrow.

While everyone was still busy talking, I received a silenced alert to my omni-tool.

Again, not from the Council. Not so soon. But still very…unexpected.

An email from Tali, with a specific attachment.

I glanced up at her. Tali kept on speaking with Joker and the other guys, pretending not to notice my notice. Maybe she didn't want to give herself away to everyone else. So I chose to follow her lead.

Opening the attachment, I found that it was another photo. One that Tali had taken herself in secret.

This time, it was of Miranda and me. The two of us at the beach. Standing together, my arm wrapped around her waist. Leaning against one another—with Miranda shorter than me, curling into me on instinct, protective as I was. Making such easy eye contact. Smiling as brightly as the sun shining above.

I had never seen my love for Miranda reflecting back at me like this.

Witnessing it for myself, I finally had a visual understanding. Understanding of my feelings, my expressions. This should have only been an ephemeral moment. But now it lived on forever, more so.

Knowing that my time was almost up, such a bittersweet feeling enveloped me.

That time still ticking down—before everything came crashing down on me.

My lack of mourning. My mistakes. All of which had led me to this ongoing eternity, with the only one I loved like this.

Loving her more, once we all left the Marine Room, I brought Miranda back out to the beach. Right at the tail-end of the sunset. Right as those blazing clouds of vermillion saw their last light, just before night arrived. Feeling right, our futures bright, Miranda and I stayed along the sand together. Alone, far enough away from other people. We sat down together; I stayed behind Miranda's back, propping her up this way. She sat back against me, adoring the security of my arms around her waist. We stayed here, soaking in this scenery, while the rest of the team had gone off by now, doing what they needed to do.

That blazing horizon rested over the swelling sea. Just for us. Seemingly no one else around for miles.

Looking out at the sights like this, I realized again how much I'd missed out on. How I had never fully appreciated my hometown until now. Now that Miranda looked on at the same views, inspiring me to see them differently. In a completely different light. Or maybe seeing them for the very first time, really.

Miranda smoothed her hands over mine. "Thank you for this day, Shepard," she murmured. "I know not everything went according to plan. But sometimes, that can be a good thing. We saw it for ourselves. I have to wonder if you'll be more open to risk-taking in the future. I think it suits you—when it's right."

"You think I took a risk today?"

"With the others, yes. Letting your guard down around them. Among other things."

"Hmm, what kind of other things?" I asked.

"The restaurant you chose," she said, with a twinkle of humor in her lilting voice. "The Marine Room. I was intrigued, wondering why you would even take the risk with a place like that. God forbid the windows actually did fail while we were there. Seas flooding everywhere. I can only imagine what would happen if you got your hair wet."

I buried my face in the crook of her neck. "Honestly, babe, I wasn't even thinking about that… I was more paranoid about letting the team see me. _As normal._ There's supposed to be a certain separation."

"Maybe so. But I hope this is a precursor to _more._ If not with them, then with me. Just the two of us."

Kissing this slender slope of her neck, I couldn't help feeling like she was right.

Miranda's hopes would become reality soon enough.

 _Letting her in…_ Giving her a chance.

Giving myself the chance to _need her._

This perfect day with Miranda had inspired more than one need in me. However she reacted would define my path moving forward. I refused to tell her as much; refused to actually say how critical these next few days were for us. Even still, despite my refusals, I knew:

I couldn't contain this for much longer.


	47. Earthborn

_"Adam's Apartment" from Deus Ex: Mankind Divided / "Call Out My Name" by The Weeknd_

**XLVII.** Earthborn

_(Miranda)_

Hazing in as gold, this late-evening darklight rayed through the open blinds of the windows. Pale rays dusting over me, misting across my body covered only in this black lace of my nightdress. Comfort, security, sensuality. Yet not quite feeling as such, standing before this view of Shepard's hometown. Heightened above that darkening horizon, I watched the city's sections lit up to varying degrees. All the same hue. All the same mood of a dull richness, tempering itself in humility and modesty. All the same truths as a brightly-lit contemplation, shining brightest as the night approached, dimming the day away.

Existing here alone in Shepard's living room, I felt a similar contemplation within me.

Just yesterday, she had given me such a magical time at the beach. Opening herself to me more. Willing to live her life more freely with me. At last embracing the steady wonders of our romance, all while expecting nothing in return. Today felt different. Today, I felt the _finally._ The crash she'd no doubt experienced, away from me. Isolating herself in her bedroom. Leaving me to stare out at these brooding buildings alone, without her, knowing how and why she herself brooded. I knew, because I remembered last night. How we'd tried to sleep in her bed after our day and night out at the beach. How Shepard had tossed and turned. Nightmares more than likely. Night-terrors. Terrorized by those particular memories.

Really, I'd expected her to do just that—before. When we were here together the first time, months ago. Still, Shepard hadn't allowed herself this type of mourning. Now that she'd taken my advice—remembering, letting these feelings affect her—I knew we would find Liara the next time we entered Insomnia. The infinite possibilities there continued to charm me. I could only wonder what else awaited.

Yet all of a sudden, I had the strangest sense. As if something wasn't _right._ As if Shepard wasn't just brooding in her bedroom, mourning in solemnity as anyone might have done. No, there was more here.

Even so, I felt shackled by my own care.

Shepard had her bedroom door closed. Not locked, as if trying to not show weakness.

But also, perhaps, as her way of letting me in. Indirectly. Leeway as an invisible hand held out to me.

Tentative, I made my way down the hall. To Shepard's bedroom. To her closed door.

The green of that light, her allowance—the door slid open, allowing me inside. Into the calm radiance of her quiet space, glimmering in the evening's tide. This quiet enhanced, not disturbed, by the sounds of the shower water running in the adjacent bathroom. That door, Shepard had kept open. Fogs of heat misting within, occasional sounds of movement from the shifting waters. Cleaning off the sorrows from her day.

Shepard had left her bed undisturbed. Sheets tucked in, duvet folded neatly, pillows arranged perfectly. Military habits of cleanliness endured throughout her room.

Still, this couldn't have been normal.

Bracing myself, I snuck closer to the bathroom. Sneaking, for what, I didn't know. Sneaking around in a master infiltrator's home. I knew how pointless it was, yet I did it anyway. Heightened senses: I had the awareness now to realize something was off about the bathroom. Shepard had left the lights off. Yet I could still see the heat of the shower's mist hovering through, as the room had just enough light from the day's end. Just enough to allow me to see the full state of things.

Shepard had left her shower open. Open, and yet she wasn't standing inside, washing herself clean.

Still in her white, sleeveless undershirt, and a pair of black boxer briefs—I found Shepard sitting on the shower floor. Soaking in the heated water. Camouflaging her crying that way. Silent, so silent. Holding herself in to keep from making a sound. Head lowered. Completely despondent, deadened. Defeated.

"Shepard!"

I hurried over to her.

Leaving the water on for fear of freezing her if I turned it off.

Kneeling at her side, soaking myself completely—I didn't care. The moment I held her to me, Shepard leaned into my touch. These warmer cascades from her eyes weren't at all from the shower. Shielding her from the pelleting water, I held her tighter. Rocking her, to calm myself more than anything. For us both. Because the second she shivered in my arms, sounding just like a wounded pup, I could've faltered. I could have, should have broken down; burst into tears on the spot. Yet I forced it all back.

Instead, I cradled her drenched head to my chest. Hoping, praying I could somehow make this better.

"Shepard, _talk to me,"_ I begged, willing my voice not to break. "Please… What's running through your mind? Whatever it is, I want to know. I need to understand you. How are you feeling right now?"

"…abandoned," she muttered.

Not by me, I knew.

I remembered—"Losing Liara… Like being an orphan, abandoned out on Earth's streets again. Is that it?"

Shepard exhaled harder over my chest, shuddering more.

Trying to remember more, I acted on instinct. I touched Shepard's face. Activating my biotics through my hand, blues and whites swirling. Calmed enough, Shepard breathed a little easier. But this didn't quite have the same euphoric, _religious_ effect from Liara's efforts in the past. That fetish was their own.

Steadying more, Shepard reprimanded herself: "It's my own fault… Don't know why I'm upset like this."

"You had no control over that," I soothed. "It isn't your fault. You did nothing wrong."

She didn't seem to believe that. Yet she also didn't have the energy to fight against it.

I recalled last night—"Did you have nightmares about this? While we tried to sleep before."

"Constantly…"

"What happened during your dreams?"

"I kept losing her," anguished Shepard. "It was the same thing, over and over again. We were in some kind of hospital. Out in the hallway, with these darkened rooms everywhere. Liara wasn't doing well. I carried her in my arms, trying to get her somewhere. Trying to get her some help. Then, out of nowhere, these other asari came by. Tearing at Liara in my arms. Dismembering her. Trying to cannibalize her. Nearly killing her while I tried to get her the hell away from them. The whole time, Liara was screaming my name. Begging for my help…for me to not leave her like this. Like something out of a horror vid. Every time I thought I got her to safety, those attackers showed up again. I couldn't save her at all."

As much as her pain pained me, I had to know: "And what do you think that's meant to symbolize?"

"I should've been there for her. _Before._ I made too many mistakes. I chose another woman over her. I left Liara behind. I left her behind even while she kept begging me not to, suffering in silence. Liara lived her life fucking _suffering for me!_ She died in terror because of me! This is my fault. It's my damn fault."

"You keep blaming yourself," I noticed.

"I don't know what else to do…"

So I asked her, "What else is wrong? You can tell me anything. No matter what it is, I won't judge you."

Shepard told me, "I made those promises to you. I hate feeling like I'm inconsistent. Or like I have double-standards. I know what you need from me. And I said you'd have that. I feel like I failed you. Not just you. I failed Tali. I failed Liara, obviously. Maybe Ashley, too—I should've kept my distance from her instead. _I failed all of you._ Taking responsibility is the only way I know how to deal. It's really all I have."

"Shepard…even if that were true, you shouldn't keep falling on your sword. You have other options. You have me. I'll never leave your side. So you can choose to keep pretending you're infallible, and suffering like this, or you can share your frustrations with me. I would never scorn you for your emotions. But I do expect you to keep your responsibilities to me. You know exactly why I'm choosing to use these words."

Pragmatic as ever, even in her sorrows, this promise of logic helped steady Shepard's breathing at last.

Moving as carefully as I could, still holding onto her, I turned the water off.

I situated us out of the shower. Onto the hard floor, over a towel Shepard had set out beforehand. I pulled down a couple of other towels just nearby. Insulating us both in this warmth, I had us sit here. My back against a wall. Shepard still leaning into me, listening to how my heartbeats had slowed for her. By now, she had to know that I would do _anything_ for her. And if she didn't, then I'd just have to fix that.

"How do you feel about seeing Liara again? Once it's time."

Shepard sighed into my cleavage, heating me. "It's…disquieting."

Disquiet and quieting, with this future between them so uncertain.

I kissed atop Shepard's head anyway. She had my support. I knew how awkward she felt in this moment, leaning on me the way she did. Figuratively, literally. Still, her appreciation shone through regardless. She muttered her thanks for my care. Not quite admitting how she needed me. Not really needing to say the words. I understood her current state. Going through another transition, in this imperfect way, on this uncomfortable stage while I watched and held and supported her. She felt the pressure to perform.

Some of that stage fright made Shepard recede from me.

She decided where we would go tonight. She would at last show me what that 'something' was, here in her hometown. The location, or the memory, or both—whatever it was that made her hold back with me, receding in this way. Receding, retreating to the guest room to get dressed. Once again, as before, she allowed me to use her bedroom and bathroom to get ready instead. Such a perfect gentleman, even in these imperfect circumstances. She had to know how much I appreciated her gestures as well, always.

As I returned to Shepard's bedroom, alone, I was about to go to the holo-closet. I still had mine linked here from before. Before I could check my wardrobe, something else caught my eye. Something I'd failed to notice when I'd entered the room before. Something on the nightstand closest to the door.

Walking over there, I found that Shepard had placed a picture frame over the surface.

For a brief moment, I worried that this was the photograph of her and Liara together. Because of what it would mean. That specific symbolism. This was where she'd had that picture of her and Ashley, after all.

Once I saw what this actually was, I couldn't stop my reaction.

This sharp gasp. Quickly covering my mouth with my hand. Trying to stifle these sudden sobs of _joy._

This photograph…was of us. Shepard with me. From the beach yesterday. At ease. So happy together.

Tali must have taken this in secret.

Even so, I couldn't stop these reactions of mine. Clamping my hand over my smile only did so much. Really, after _everything,_ having this added validation only bolstered me more. These promises I knew Shepard would never break. Unspoken. Non-verbal. Implied and understood as we both knew by now.

Bolstering me more, so unexpected—I received an email from Oriana.

I read it over with this same joy swelling within me.

_From: Oriana – Hey, sis._

_Miranda,_

_Is that what I should call you now? Just your name. Maybe you're not too into nicknames. But you are my big sister, so I'd like a bit of leeway sometimes._

_I know it hasn't been that long since we spoke. I think about you a lot. Our conversation. What you said. What you didn't say. I wish I could come with you on your mission. Of course you wouldn't allow it. I miss you, that's all. I suppose email will have to do for now. Until your mission's over. I hope you'll come see me again once you're back home._

_I hope Commander Shepard comes along, too. She's incredibly sweet behind that hard demeanor of hers. I think you two have that in common. It's no wonder you fit so well together. Be sure to take care of her._

_-Oriana_

I smiled all over again.

Clairvoyant in this way, my sister knew what to say. Urging me to take care of Shepard.

Not the other way around.

After sending off my reply to Oriana's message, I went to take a proper shower.

All the while, I remembered my time with Shepard in here, just a short while ago.

I wished she'd let me dust her off. Put her back together again. In a way, I had. But I wanted to do more. I always wanted more with Shepard, with everything. Especially this. I took some solace in the fact that she was better off now, caring for herself in the guest room. Even then, I recognized the acute source of my worries. It was that time of the month for me, so of course I felt more protective than usual. This _need_ I had to ensure Shepard's well-being went beyond our romantic relationship. The source of this need, we acted out each day in the dynamic we had with one another. Her youth, her boyishness. How susceptible she was to pleasing me, catering to me. She'd first given me this joy two months ago now.

Much had changed since then.

I finished up with my shower and handled my usual routines, remembering those yesterdays.

Not knowing what else to wear, I settled on my Cerberus uniform. I knew Shepard intended on taking me to the 94 afterward. So this would at least be appropriate for the club.

I sat down over Shepard's bed, lounging atop her pillows. Waiting for her to get ready, passing this time, I decided to see what the team was up to. I had already sent James his welcoming email. Actually writing to him in an official capacity had made me feel strange. Awkward. But I'd leaned on my professionalism as needed. James had quickly sent back some tortured response with his thanks. _Tortured,_ as much as he refrained from speaking to me as casually as he wanted. He knew that was out of the question.

Garrus had invited James to the chat room last night. Samara and Thane were also present. As far as I knew, they chose not to speak to anyone. I knew they paid attention to my important announcements for the team, which was really what mattered. The others did more than enough socializing for them.

_[19:23:09] Joker: Yeah, we're back in San Diego now. Vancouver was pretty fun, too. Had no idea they have as much seafood as SD does. Think I'm gonna get spoiled on all this shrimp and salmon!_

_[19:23:34] Kasumi: I have to say, I'm enjoying the sushi selection here. It's almost like being back home. These California rolls are no joke._

_[19:23:53] James: Hey, Kasumi. Which part of Japan are you from? I was stationed out in Okinawa for a while. You from there? What about Osaka? Or maybe good old Tokyo._

_[19:24:13] Kasumi: A good thief never reveals her base of operations, Vega. Try again next time._

_[19:24:29] James: Oh, come on. I'm just trying to get to know you better. "Where are you from?" is like the basics of the basics! Like you obviously know me and the commander are from here._

_[19:24:48] Kasumi: That would be true in any normal circumstances. But I'm under strict orders not to cooperate with you. I'm forbidden from saying anything more._

_[19:25:03] James: WHAT? Orders from who?!_

_[19:25:21] Jack: Who do you think, asshole?_

_[19:25:28] James: Ah, shit…_

_[19:25:35] Wrex: You kids sure are funny_

_[19:25:50] James: Whoa, it's Wrex. Heard a lot about you, man. Honored to meet you._

_[19:26:13] Garrus: See that, Wrex? You've gained some street cred from hanging around us._

_[19:26:44] Wrex: I know, huh. If only I could turn it into something useful. Heard a thing or two about you too Vega. Think you'll fit in just fine here_

_[19:26:59] James: Wait, you knew about me before?_

_[19:27:28] Joker: Yeah, we've definitely heard about you. Didn't know your name at the time. We only had your description to go off of. As soon as I saw you at the Marine Room, I knew exactly who you were._

_[19:27:36] Garrus: Same here._

_[19:27:40] Kaidan: Yup._

_[19:27:55] James: Hey, hey, hang on! What are you guys talking about?_

_[19:28:23] Tali: A certain someone from the past wasn't shy about her descriptions of you. From that military nightclub here in the city. I think it's called the 94._

_[19:28:40] James: Oh…you mean her. Holy shit you even muted her name from the chat?!_

_[19:28:45] Joker: Uh-huh._

_[19:28:49] Kaidan: Unfortunately._

_[19:28:53] Tali: We do not speak of her._

_[19:29:34] James: Damn, Tali. That's stone cold. Then again, I'm reading over this report now… And, uh—I get it. Like, I wasn't sure if I was allowed to bring it up. I'm kinda shell-shocked, you know?_

_[19:29:49] Tali: I wish I could sympathize with you, James. Sadly, I can't._

_[19:30:24] James: Nah, I see where you're coming from. You and Dr. T'Soni were real tight. Maybe it doesn't mean anything, but I'm sorry for your loss. Wish I knew you guys while you were in town before. Would've liked to take you both out sometime. You know, wherever._

_[19:30:31] Kasumi: Oh, dear._

_[19:30:45] Joker: Uh…James. What the hell was that?!_

_[19:30:59] Tali: Please tell me this is just some sick joke._

_[19:31:53] James: No way! Look, like I said, you and Liara were pretty close. You both seem chill. I mean, I've seen Liara's picture too and she's—she was—you know. Real cute. I'm sure you are too Tali, underneath that mask. And I wouldn't mind taking you both out like that. There's nothing wrong with it. Good company and all._

_[19:32:22] Garrus: Quite frankly, I'm at a loss for words right now._

_[19:32:43] Kaidan: I mean, what could you even say to something like that…_

_[19:33:00] Me: **James** , that's the most inelegant apology for the deceased I've ever seen. Do not use this chat room to flirt with Tali or anyone else. I won't allow it. If you pull anything like this again, I'm banning you from the room immediately. No questions asked._

_[19:33:15] Joker: Oh, shit, Miranda's about to drop the ban hammer?!_

_[19:33:22] Wrex: Someone's busted_

_[19:33:27] Tali: Thank you, Miranda._

_[19:33:29] Garrus: This is exactly why I gave our XO those admin privileges. Just what we need._

_[19:33:32] James: I just—uhh…_

_[19:33:40] Jack: Say another word and I'll rip your fucking muscle-brains out_

_[19:33:53] Wrex: Now that's some good old fashioned moderating_

_[19:33:59] Tali: Jack…please don't. I know you're serious._

_[19:34:10] Garrus: You know, all this conflict and tension is getting me nostalgic. For back in the day when it seemed as if we all got along. Like the first time we were here for shore leave before Virmire._

_[19:34:32] Tali: No, Garrus. There's a lot I didn't tell you during those days. You were too naïve._

_[19:34:50] Garrus: You're calling me naïve? Did I hear that right? From our sweet little Tali?_

_[19:35:11] Tali: You can keep thinking I'm like that. It won't get you anywhere._

_[19:35:50] Garrus: Okay, I'll bite. You came this close to telling me the real truth back then. While we were at Dark Goddess, then once more during our hotel stay. Even while you were drunk and ranting, you just kept hinting around whatever serious drama was going on. What didn't you tell me at the time?_

_[19:36:05] Kaidan: Huh? What serious drama? What happened?_

_[19:36:20] Joker: You're still out of the loop, huh?_

_[19:36:32] Wrex: Hey I want to know too. What was it_

_[19:37:05] Tali: How excited I was to attend your Ultimate San Diego Party, as you called it._

_[19:37:21] Kaidan: Aww, what a letdown…_

_[19:37:33] Garrus: Well, aren't you a tease? You got me there, Tali._

_[19:37:57] Wrex: I think about that party a lot you know. Had to practically beg Liara to come along. Bribed her with that expensive Thessian wine and everything. I miss my precious blueberry. Even miss when Liara would get mad at me for trolling her. Always fun to make her react like that. She said she was busy that time I was bugging her in chat. Before the party. Tali do you know what she was busy doing_

_[19:38:13] Tali: No, Liara never told me. I wish she did. I would have liked to join her. I miss her, too._

_[19:38:17] Joker: HOLY SHIT_

_[19:38:21] Tali: What?!_

_[19:38:25] Garrus: Huh?_

_[19:38:30] Joker: DUDE_

_[19:38:36] Kaidan: Joker, what's going on?! You're about to give me a heart attack!_

_[19:38:43] Wrex: Don't keep us in suspense you pyjak_

_[19:38:56] Joker: I just checked the old chat logs in the archives! I know what Liara was doing! I know why she wasn't at the freaking hotel the whole time we were there!_

_[19:39:09] Tali: Really?! Then where was she? How did you figure it out!?_

_[19:39:30] Joker: I seriously CAN'T say it right now. You guys need to meet me at the monorail station by the Alliance base. I'm done checking on the ship. Let's get the heck out of here and I'll spill what I know._

_[19:39:59] Kaidan: Oh, okay then. Are we going out for the evening?_

_[19:40:28] Joker: Abso-freakin-lutely! I wanted to see if Shepard would get the call from the Council. If she hasn't gotten it by now, then we're free to party anyway! She can't blame us for hitting the town late at night. Just like last time! Remember we told you?_

_[19:40:43] Kaidan: Of course I remember. Pretty hard to forget…_

_[19:40:54] Garrus: Sure, I'll meet you guys there. Just finishing up my last checks on the new main guns._

_[19:41:04] Tali: I was going to have an early night. But this sounds like an emergency, so I'll make an exception. Where are we going?_

_[19:41:23] Joker: Yeah, this IS an emergency! I'll tell you at the station! Bring those dancing hips, Tali!_

_[19:41:36] Tali: Well, it's not as if I can't bring my own hips with me, wherever we're going…_

_[19:41:43] Wrex: Guess I'll go back to my rocks on Tuchanka_

_[19:41:56] Garrus: We'll fill you in later, Wrex. That's a promise._

_[19:42:24] Wrex: Fine by me. All I know is, this ends once I'm back on the Normandy. Too awkward_

Awkward indeed, the chat summarily ended once the usual group stopped speaking.

More and more lately, this room had become a place to spectate on the old team's current goings-on.

Zaeed had all but stopped speaking in chat, as preoccupied as he was with his brooding. Mordin was far too busy with his current project, learning how to develop that simulation game for us, with Legion and EDI as his mentors. I surmised Samara and Thane would never deign to actually use the chat room for anything resembling socialization. And Jack and Kasumi only spoke from time to time, as they did today.

Still, I knew everyone at least read the logs. They were all connected together— _listening_ —even if they didn't interact closely from day to day. Perhaps James would follow suit. That was more than enough.

Soon afterward, I spotted Shepard in my periphery, entering the room.

I figured she'd taken a bit longer than usual, needing to straighten her hair again. Not that I minded.

Much to my surprise, she had on a rather boyish short-sleeved red button-down shirt, fit with a fine collar. The black long-sleeved shirt she had on underneath, her loose-but-not-too-loose black jeans, and her black combat boots gave her such a distinctive edge. She had her sidearm over her hip as well. I had never seen her wear anything like this before. It wasn't quite _casual,_ but this look was definitely for…

"The streets," said Shepard. "I know." She gave me a once-over. "I forgot to mention. Where we're going…you can't wear blue. You should change out of your uniform. Wear something else."

Rather alarmed, I returned to her holo-closet. "Oh…all right. I'll follow your lead, then." Searching through my wardrobe again, I asked, "Should I wear red, then? Like you."

"Gray or white," she recommended. "You can wear your boots if you want. But don't bring a gun. If something goes down, don't activate your biotics. It'll make you a target. Just let me handle whatever."

I followed her suggestion, changing into a white blouse, and black boot-cut jeans. With my usual boots underneath. I trusted her to stay armed for both of us. Even still, I worried about the need for all this.

Going over to her, I inquired, "Shepard, why are there so many rules? Where are we going?"

Shepard gave me a look, practically longing for my innocence on the matter.

"We're going to where I used to live," she supplied. "Back when I was a kid. Back when I used to dream of joining the Alliance to escape everything. The exact neighborhood isn't the same anymore. Gentrification took care of that. It's the area a few blocks down that hasn't changed. These are just the rules of engagement. I'll explain more once we're there. Once you see the place for yourself."

"Well, as I said, I'll follow your lead…"

After the week she'd had, I was glad to see Shepard back to her old self.

Though I still wished I had been the one to dust her off and put her back together. More thoroughly.

Going over to her, I couldn't help this vulnerability about me. Something in Shepard's stare magnetized me. This strength about her. This conviction, this care, simultaneous. Because she only reserved this look for me. No one else. Even as I stood before her, staring up at her regard of me, I wondered what was on her mind. This intensity of hers seemed at once gentle and focused. Soft and stern. Tempered for my sake, yet not at all lacking in her typical confidence and attitude. My Adonis, forever and always.

As I held her in my arms, Shepard groaned—low, guttural.

She returned my hold, but the depths of those sounds from her had me wanting.

More so, I felt the sudden surprise from her own want. Right between me. Right against me.

"Shepard!" I exclaimed, nearly jumping in place. "Are you… _wearing_ something? Beneath your jeans."

She reminded me: "A while ago, you asked me to wear one more often. Not during missions. I'm finally doing what you requested. What you said you wanted. Unless you've changed your mind since then."

 _"No,_ I just…"

This hellish temptation—I hovered my hand over her. Precisely over, without touching. Without letting myself go that far. Because if I did, I knew I would ruin our plans. I would ruin _myself._ At this time of the month, we absolutely couldn't. We could not. But I still settled my hand over her, this hardness of her.

Deeper Shepard groaned, pulling her arms around me. Surrounding her arms around my back. Inundating her hold over me, within me, everywhere. As if she could have leaned down and bent me over at any moment. She certainly thought about it. I sensed the shapes of her thoughts, as curved and ready as she felt beneath my hand. This simple, subtle act of touching her here, all while she reacted and reacted beneath her jeans: she gave me this magic, letting me stimulate her in simplicity. With my mere proximity. With just this promise of me. This allure of me right in front of her, needing her like this.

Forcing her self-control, Shepard let go and stepped away from me.

Her request. Her needs. Her requirements, her conditions.

We needed to take this trip first. Before anything more could happen. I respected her wishes.

Shepard stressed to me, "I was lucky to get out when I did. I need you to understand that."

"Shepard, I do understand…"

Such a strenuous smile she gave me. _"You will,_ babe."

* * *

During this drive to the far side of town, I sat in the passenger's seat of Shepard's car. Nighttime endeavors. City lights, highlights in the night; headlights and brake lights from other cars lining the highway. As ever, Shepard's wonderful features lit up in the lights of her dashboard. She blasted her music for us, without blasting at all. The loudness as more of a dull comfort, of her sound system surrounding us, everywhere. The dark sensuality of her alternative R&B and soul, bass simmering, vibrating all around. Cerebral as she was, as we both were together, our hands interlaced as she drove us along. This raw emotion and experimentalism in the lyrics, instrumentation: it all kept her calm.

This masculine edge about her—the angling lean of her body in her seat; the sharpened ease she carried herself with, her mannerisms. I couldn't help feeling she'd learned all of that from here. From our next destination. Everything at Shepard's roots, her foundations had originated from this place. Even the artificial cinnamon of her car's air freshener, those origins also resided in this city, of Shepard's specific weakness for this sweetly taste, this sweetly scent, manufactured so. This exact flavor of her masculinity I'd always loved and coveted about her—I expected to see those beginnings in this next part of town.

After some time, Shepard exited the highway. Rounding the smoothness of this path, the rest of San Diego's bright and brooding industrialism fell away. Those contradictions fell away to this halfway point. Buildings not nearly as tall as elsewhere. Not many overhead lanes of skycars. Mostly ground vehicles traversing the streets, surrounded by these rundown, battered locations.

Battered and broken as they appeared, these places certainly didn't lack for company.

Plenty of people were out and about that night. Brightened, at least, by the street lights shining down—though only some remained in working order. These people dressed similarly to Shepard, in similar colors and styles: they traversed the sidewalks, heading from location to location, from bar to bar, shop to shop, nightclub to nightclub, liquor store to liquor store. Elsewhere, several other groups simply stood around, their assault rifles and shotguns hanging from their hands. These groups seemed to stand vigil over the neighborhood as vigilantes, but I couldn't get a close enough look at them from here.

Not a single police officer in sight. Yet I'd spotted at least a dozen security cameras on one block alone.

Knowing my curiosities, Shepard parked her car. Not really anywhere near the neighborhood. Instead, she set her car down in the gentrified area just close by. I waited for her to turn her car off; to come around to my side, and help me out. Upon opening my door, Shepard offered me her hand, chivalrous as always. But I knew she saw the questions in my face. Why didn't we park in the actual neighborhood?

"Babe, I don't want someone trying to shoot up my car. It's as simple as that."

I should've known…

Even still, I remembered my time in a similar neighborhood. In my youth. Back in Brisbane.

The area where I used to live with Niket—it was nowhere near as bad as this.

Shepard held my hand, walking us back to our actual destination.

We soon returned to the same area as before. Experiencing it from the ground, from this lived perspective, helped me _understand_ more. Seeing these building blocks of Shepard's own perspective, I wondered how best to apply them to her. How they'd formed her, broken her. Made her into the woman she was. How did this melting pot of different ethnicities influence her identity? These multiple languages my translation programs picked up on, other than regular English—Spanish and Vietnamese, among several others. These varied persons walking about, in their reds and blacks as signs of strength and belonging, of the in-group, the tribe. How they jostled one another in roughness, displaying more strength in their stature, their posture. How they threw around a certain word with one another _I could not repeat,_ having reclaimed and repurposed the word between them, mainly for brotherly affection.

A number of those individuals spotted Shepard with me. They recognized us both, though they chose to focus on her. Seeing Shepard's colors as well, they made strong eye-contact with her. Giving an upward nod of their heads as a stern, respectful greeting. Making a point, Shepard returned their gestures. She did so, looking entirely stunning, as if she was from a different world. These occasional brights from the street lamps punctured her severity. This thick smell of old-fashioned cigarette smoke billowed in the air, reminding me of the Illusive Man. Being in his office. Listening as he blew out his smoke as he spoke, before sipping his alcohol, ice clinking within his glass. The smoke here surrounded Shepard without really meeting her existence. She existed beyond everything around us. These streets didn't define her.

Still, Shepard's presence seemed to increase everyone's morale, their moods. They were much better off for having seen her on this night. No matter what else they had going on, they appreciated her.

And we passed by a number of ground cars in the streets, hip-hop and rap music blasting. Several groups of men and women congregated around the cars, having a social hour together. Just nearby, other people filed in and out of this bar, smirking at the ongoing festivities, or paying them no mind.

Shepard leaned closer to me, to explain:

"We're in my territory," she specified. "The red and black, they're gang colors. Anyone wearing these, you know they're part of the family, so to speak. They protect everyone in the 'hood. The police never bother coming down here unless there's a 'real' problem. So we have to take care of our own."

I asked her, "Did you wear these colors all the time when you were younger?"

"I couldn't go anywhere without them. Not even to school. They all knew I was in a gang."

"Then, when you told me I couldn't wear blue…"

"Anyone wearing blue is the enemy. These are our uniforms. These are our allegiances. This is how we know who we belong to. If anyone's foolish enough to roll up here wearing blue, you can expect a shootout in seconds."

So naïve, I needed to know—"Well, what about the Alliance? What if a soldier came by, not knowing?"

"That soldier would end up bleeding out on the pavement."

"No one would make an exception…?"

Shepard shook her head. "These rules have been in place for centuries. Way before the Alliance even existed. We couldn't change the rules just because it was convenient. It was way too late by then."

"Then…how did this all start? Forgive my ignorance. I wish I'd known more."

"I don't blame you," she forgave, with ease. "But it's a long, long story. We weren't allowed to live in the so-called safe neighborhoods. Not for the longest. Even after the laws changed to allow it, someone always found a loophole. Segregation by a different name. Packing us into these places. Refusing to invest enough resources into our schools, our local governments. They gave up on us without giving anyone a chance, leaving us to fend for ourselves. We eventually split into our own tribes like this."

"Was it always so contentious? After the split."

"Not always," supplied Shepard. "There were little things here and there. Those smaller incidents snowballed over time. Someone would get stabbed in a fight. Then shot. Then the families of the deceased would want revenge. They shot up whoever killed their brother, their cousin. Revenge after revenge. That constant cycle of violence. Blood enemies. The kind of grudges that don't _just_ go away."

I tried to imagine—"Did you ever take part in any revenge shootings?"

"There were plenty of times when I wanted to. Getting revenge for my own friends. I lost a lot of good people to the enemy when I was younger. We all had a more common foe with the skinheads. If _they_ took out my friends, then it was the only time I'd get payback. I was really only in a gang for protection."

At Shepard's mention of those foes, I noticed the looks we received.

Not from anyone overhearing our conversation.

But for the simple fact that Shepard and I were an interracial couple.

I fought back a shudder, wondering what would've happened if I'd come here on my own. Without her.

"Protection, you say?" I asked. "From what, exactly?"

"The street cred kept anyone else from fucking with me. You're seeing it now, with the way most people respect us. And even if they don't respect us, it doesn't matter. They know you're my woman, so they won't try it with you, or me. Back when I was in school, my friends actually felt safer with me around."

No wonder she was so protective.

"And how far would your credibility extend? Just within this territory?"

"Pretty much," replied Shepard. "Our territory isn't nice and neat. Sometimes we gain more ground, or we'll lose it over time. We always had to keep track of the boundaries. Someone could get shot at just for going to the wrong liquor store, while wearing the wrong colors. Even if they're not in a gang at all."

I glanced around, noticing, "Well, everyone _seems_ to be doing all right. Or is that not true?"

"I'd say it is. This isn't as bad as it used to be…a long time ago. There are a bunch of charities in my name. Some of them go toward helping out these neighborhoods. Subsidized housing. Better school supplies and libraries. Food banks and free clothes. Things like that. But everyone still sticks to their territories for tradition's sake. Keeps any old wounds from getting infested; getting worse. You know."

And I expected nothing less from Shepard's legacy. Paying it forward.

Leaving this packed area, she took me to a lone building farther off. Tall, abandoned, half-built, half-destroyed. I gathered this had been some development project gone awry, subsequently abandoned. Perhaps an experiment from the gentrification efforts several blocks down. Either way, this place seemed to hold much significance in Shepard's eyes. I felt the way her demeanor changed, right as she took me inside to this defunct lobby area. As if she'd returned home again after a long journey.

Again I smelled such distinct cigarette smoke in the chilled air around us. As I did, I stared up at the collapsed ceiling. Several floors ran overhead, winding and winding. Broken windows leading outside to the night. Numerous open vents that spanned throughout the walls. A veritable amusement park of hiding spots and escape locations—ideally for a young infiltrator-in-training.

"I can feel the meaning around us, Shepard. What's the story behind this building?"

"This is where I learned my trade," she confirmed. "Before joining the Alliance, I mean. This is how I knew I wanted to be an infiltrator. More than anything, I felt that need inside of me. When I was a kid, it was such a powerful emotion. I might've been in love with the idea, actually. Then it came true."

"Mmm, and how did you train here?"

"Not on purpose. It was an accident. At least at first. One day, my enemies chased me in here. I was on my own. No backup. Nothing. It was the last time I remember being afraid for my life. But I managed to slip out of sight. I crawled into one of the vents. Disappeared into the shadows. I could hear my attackers looking for me. They were so loud. Clumsy. _Stupid._ There was no way they could fit in the vents after me, let alone think to look in one. So I hid away until they gave up. That's how I survived."

"How resourceful of you," I praised. "Though I can't say I'm surprised. This must've turned into your hunting ground. You found your success in this building."

"Yeah, I did. The whole hide-and-seek element helped make up for my weaknesses. My enemies used to underestimate me before then. I was always pretty tall for my age, but never weighed that much. Still hasn't changed. So people assumed I was weak. I got away with surprising them in other ways before. That stopped working after a while. So I started luring enemies through here. If I couldn't beat them down with raw force, then I outsmarted them instead. Every time, I'd crawl through the vents and disappear into those shadows. Stalking my enemies. Watching them lose their minds, freaking out. If I wanted to take someone out, I only had one shot to do it—before giving myself away. I would focus on the headshot. _Concentrate._ Then fire. That's how I learned my aim. The skills I have now. All from here."

I smiled over this tale of her origins. "And how would you escape?"

"I'd jump out a window. Then I'd run off; escape into the night. Think I gained a reputation for it. _Ghost."_

"Of course. I'd assume nothing less. I'm happy to see how consistent you've been over the years."

Shepard paused in such a specific way. As if there was a moral of this story as well.

"What is it?" I asked. "I want to know. _You know_ I do."

Downed and downcast, Shepard stared down at our interlaced hands. Our love. Our emotions, linked.

"Miranda, what I'm trying to say is… Out in these streets, emotions are a liability. They're a weakness. They're the difference between staying focused and staying alive—and losing your cool and losing your life. I got lucky that time. When I was scared. Afraid of dying. My survival instincts kicked in. But I could've easily panicked and left myself vulnerable instead. So I learned, _really_ learned to harden myself after that. I had to be hard. I had to be emotionless. I had to be that stereotypical man, a thug. No excuses."

"I understand that," I sympathized. _"Really,_ I do. I know exactly what you mean. I can never see this Earth from your eyes, from your perspective. But you know I'm looking out in the same direction as you. That direction is _forward._ It's always forward. You have such a deep, sensitive soul. You have no idea—no clue how much I love that about you. How emotional you still are, despite your efforts. It's beautiful."

As much as she wanted to avert her eyes, Shepard made herself stay with me. Staying present with me.

"Babe, I get what you're saying…"

"Well, I'm not pressuring you to do anything, either. I would simply like to have your heart in mine."

After everything, I knew.

Shepard had forgotten how to do this. Just like saying those three words to me. Lost and left behind. We'd both had to suffer consequences from those ashes, after all. And as much as it made me bleed, more and more, this apology in Shepard's eyes nearly scathed me. Bloodletting in this critical hour. Falling and falling, just as this building could have done any day now, any time now, inevitably so from now in a loud, loud cascade of memories, destroyed. Lost and left behind, but not forgotten—not least by the love of my life gazing at me so, unable to give me this one thing. Unable, as compromised as she was. Unable, as compromised as _I_ was, for reasons I could never fully explain. She couldn't know.

Perhaps as a mistake, she couldn't know this about me.

Certainly, Shepard had resolved to not keep secrets between us.

This one thing remained at the back of my mind, creeping in and around.

Creeping and crawling around, more, as Shepard walked us back to her car—

My private frustrations that I could never blame her for. But I could certainly _do something_ about them.

* * *

Back to the so-called safety of Shepard's car, in the so-called safety of this gentrified neighborhood, she'd parked along this ground level. Relatively removed from the rest of the vehicles, most of which looked quite high-end. Never matching Shepard's taste levels. Never matching her luxury, her privilege. Never could I imagine her with anything less than this ambiance about her car: calmed, quieted, waiting.

Just as she waited for me, holding the door open for me. To the backseat. Not the front as I expected.

Following her lead one more time, I went to the backseat. Situating myself over the fine leather; regretting the need to pollute her seats with this smell of outside. That lingering smog of cigarette smoke that had taken over our clothes; faint traces of alcohol that had hazed out from the many bars we'd walked past. Shepard followed suit after me, sitting here in the back of her car at my side. She quickly busied herself by turning on her music at a low volume. That gentle buzz of the bass vibrated through the system, through her car, massaging my back. Sensuality of this song, romance and raw emotion crooning in passion—Shepard punctured it only by searching around in her glove compartment. Spraying a bit of her cologne around, dispelling that smell of smoke. Makeshift as this was, it did the trick, blending in with that artificial cinnamon smell of her car's air freshener. This would just have to do.

As this last, Shepard removed her sidearm. Setting it elsewhere. Keeping it in her view. For our protection.

We stayed like this for a while. In complete silence.

Darkened by the shadows of the night.

Lit up in dimness from the faint street lights shining through the windows. Those lights dimmed more once Shepard thought to darken her windows, selecting that setting with her omni-tool. And once she finished with this, she sat back in her seat. Sitting at my side. Not quite meeting my eyes, angling hers away, brightened as they were as that lighted brown. Forever glowing as night vision in these illusions.

Illusory as they may have been, I felt my frustrations brimming. Quiet as private riots within me.

Certainly quieter than Shepard's growing worries, showing in the absolute paradise of her face.

She felt my emotions, even if she couldn't decrypt them in our shared silence.

My emotions—my frustrations coming up _now,_ realizing how much I may have had to compete with her memories of another woman. Not my frustrations over Liara specifically. No anger directly toward her, _never,_ as I still had the utmost respect for her. It was simply this general thing. This general reminder of my own mistakes. If I had just contacted Shepard before, years ago, then perhaps none of this would've happened. I wouldn't need to put her back together after someone else had broken her heart. I wouldn't need to languish over this unrequited need, all because my old enemy had shattered her.

I didn't want us to have any problems.

I wanted the two of us to exist separately from other people. Other women. Others, others, others.

I knew how unrealistic this was, how unfeasible it was— _impossible_ —yet I despised the issue anyway.

More so, especially so, because of how naïve I had been. Certainly, my relationship with Shepard was set in stone. No matter what she did, no matter what I did, we would stay together. We would never allow anyone else to come between us. I knew that—no naïveté needed.

Shepard finally looked at me. This beat from her music still drilling at our backs. Drums and snares, traditional, old-fashioned. Keys of a piano unlocking such melancholy. Lyrics begging without begging; declaring such pride in a broken love, in insulation, in _trying_ in mania. Anger over the past, over such a willingness to die for that love. So darkly romantic, as dark as these shadows around us, golds raying in.

And her voice smoothing through me. The depths of her voice another source of thrumming, throbbing:

"Miranda…what are you thinking about?"

Here we remained at this juncture.

Here we existed at this crossroads, with my thoughts. Thinking about this as I told her I would do.

I could remain complacent, merely assuming Shepard would keep her true focus on me. I could grow content to sit on my throne, assuming all would be well. I could assume she would never, ever feel that dangerous pull toward this other woman I respected so much. I could assume and assume and assume, losing my own edge in the process. Losing the energy I'd had all these years, needing her to death.

Or I could do what Liara never did, and actually _fight for her._

Stoically startled, Shepard asked, "Babe, why are you looking at me like that? You seem—different."

Answering her with words felt pointless.

Settling my hands over the leather between us, I crawled over to her, closer. Nearing all the way.

No distance between us whatsoever.

_"Miranda—"_

Urgent I kissed her, needing. Needing her. Needing this crisp, deep aroma of her cologne this close.

Needing, needing; needling this new thread knifing at us both. Even as she struggled to speak against me, words interrupted muffling against my lips, I found my rhythm. My rhythm in this moment, taking charge. Sitting astride her lap. Her curving, pointing, hardening beneath me—exactly as I wanted. Sitting over Shepard like this, sitting on this throne she'd given me; this throne I had taken for myself, for reasons deep down that had all been too selfish. Selfish and selfish, as hard as I moved into her, harder and harder to shape her as I wanted, as I needed, over and over again. So selfish, craving exactly this.

Tipping her off-balance, leaning her back against this backseat.

Pushing her off-balance, gripping at her shoulders as my only strength, my only foundation.

Pulling her off-balance right with me—holding her face in my hands, pulling, pulling her into me, more.

Uncharacteristically at a loss, Shepard didn't know what to do. She let me kiss her. She let me pull at her as I needed. She reacted beneath me beyond her control, controlled by me. Under my spell as she was, I guided her as I wanted. Gripping her hands; putting her touch over my hips. Making her grab me as she should have. And that single motion encouraged her. Reminding her of where we were, _what_ we were.

Mimicking this meaning, she lifted me without physically lifting. Lifting me up in her regard. Lifting me in elevation and esteem, emotionally so. Lifting me for all the galaxy to see that I was hers—or at least this backseat of her car. This meaning back here, of how she had me. How she could have paid me for this, propositioned me for this. How she could've used me like this, taking and taking until her time was up.

Cutting this piece of myself for her life, I found my empowerment.

She took my shirt off, as the start of this taking. Setting my blouse aside. Taking my bra off, with only one hand in her deftness. Snapping it off, setting it elsewhere. Leaving my jeans on, my boots on. Freeing this top of me to the perfect temperature of her car. Freeing me to the perfection of her touch, her hands running up my back, bare and bared for her. Shaping my spine, my shoulders as hers. Snaking her hand up my scalp, soothing. Shifting her fingertips through my hair, massaging, cradling, comforting me so. Reaching up, into me, keeping me over her. Over and over she strove to stroke my body, my ego.

I found my sharper control, reaching down between. Reaching to the mean of Shepard's jeans. That black denim shadowed beneath me, barely holding her in. Undoing, unzipping. Unable to wait anymore.

This deeper growl drilled through Shepard's throat, mirroring the bass all around us.

This lower baritone of her voice nearly penetrated me—"Babe, I thought—thought you were on your…"

"Yes, I am," I whispered in her mouth. "But I want you. I need you— _right now._ We have other options."

Closer than before, unzipped, I felt her now. I felt Shepard beneath the tightness of her boxer briefs. Shaping just so for me, insistent and needing. I smiled over that insistence. I smiled more so over this look in Shepard's eyes just beneath mine. This look, still off-balance, still out of her element, still so beyond her own control and firmly in mine. Firmly in my hand, slipped right through the folded opening of her boxer briefs—right at attention for me through her lowered zipper. For me, for this shape of my hand over her, for this weakness of hers, simply from my hand, by my hand. Knowing it was me; feeling me wrapped around her. Shortness of my manicured nails. Softness of a woman's touch, of my touch.

Long, and not too thick. Wider at the base, more so beneath her jeans. The exact fit for her body type. Exactly what I had always imagined of her allure after all these years.

Barely doing anything just yet. Stroking, softly, up and down. But it was enough. Just enough to make Shepard lean her head back against the seat. Enough to fog her eyes honeyed by the street lights, sweetening more with this sugar of my sight, my body astride her. Shadowed precisely in my image.

Inhaling Shepard's thinning breaths, I added mine to hers, asking, "Will this one have a mess?"

"No," she forced out. Somewhere outside, blaring police sirens passed us by. "I figured we wouldn't get anywhere near sex tonight. Not in the back of my car… Not where I used to live. I—I wasn't expecting this."

_"Good."_

Stroking Shepard more, harder, tighter, I did as I wanted to her.

Shaping her in my hand, thickening these veins of her, this curve of her. Curving just more at the tip, most sensitive, blood rushing to this spot. Hardening more and more with my touch. Curving my wrists to circle around her, fully in-control now, I watched these changes painting before me in the night.

Shepard did her damnedest to hold back. Holding her breath to keep from making a sound. Remaining reserved. Tensing her body; gatekeeping her truest reactions. Trying to stop this; trying not to let go. Even as she practically kept growing in my hands, she refused to let me see her in any raw purity. Alternating between biting down on her back teeth; biting down on her lower lip, to shutter any curses from escaping her mouth. Pushing the back of her head against the leather of the seat, angling and angling her chest: curving, concaving with her harder exhales, again and again. She wouldn't look at me.

As unprepared as she was—and as shy as she was for our first time—I supposed I couldn't blame her.

I still didn't want this.

Keeping one of my hands going, still stroking, I made up my mind.

My other hand, I used to reach behind Shepard's head. Pulling her back to me, back underneath me, with this leverage, this slight height I had over her.

Kneading my fingers through the sheen of her hair, I gripped her scalp just so. Keeping her here. Locking Shepard in place with me. Giving her every single one of my private frustrations without a word—translating them just so through my eyes, into hers, locking her gaze to me equally as well. Laser-focused on my face, everything about me here, I felt Shepard scrutinizing me now, all without meaning to. Focusing, focusing. Picking out every single detail about me, about this beauty I had spent so long coveting of myself. Coveting more, I felt Shepard noticing more. Vulnerabilities accepted by the painstaking efforts I made to be perfect for her, to be beautiful for her, to be worthy of her. Breathless by the clarity of my skin. The dark shine of my hair. The intensity in my eyes. By even the finest facets of my lashes, brushed and blackened with the smallest amounts of mascara, all to hold her gaze like this.

Satisfied for now, I gave Shepard a break—emotionally—breaking our stare. Moving my lips closer to her ear, her own breaths heating down my face, down my neck. Still stroking her, seamlessly, I wanted something else this time. Something I expected her to give to me. No eye contact. Going easy on her.

"Say my name," I begged. She let out a low, rumbling growl; hardening more in my hand. "I want you to stay right here with me. I don't want to wait any longer with you. I'm done taking my time. I'd much rather take you, just like this. So I'm asking…for you to say my name. Give me this comfort." Holding me closer around my waist, around my back, Shepard wouldn't let go. She hummed out that first sound of my name instead, those hums elongated by her quieted groaning. Elongated, longer and longer, keeping me on top like this in my pride. "Call out my name, Shepard. Let go with me—and call out my name."

Gently I kissed her neck, tasting those hums still vibrating through her throat. Surrounded by her music as we were, no one else would hear us. She had no excuses. Yet this shyness of hers remained. Well on her way to coming for me, Shepard needed a little bit more. Or a lot more, considering I'd never done this before. Never had I deigned to lower myself for anyone like this. But for her, I would do anything.

Lowering myself, getting down on my knees—I settled down on the floor of her backseat.

Plenty of room to work with. Plenty of ways to kneel before her, with the loose black denim of Shepard's jeans before me; the thickness of her combat boots between me, shadowed in the full dark below us.

Sharp as ever in my intensity, I glared up at Shepard's surprise. Holding her upright, holding her in this suspense, I licked my lips, once, signaling what I wanted. Holding her hand, I guided her touch to my neck. This grip of my collar—I made her grip it right back, tauter in her tender strength. Reminding Shepard of my loyalty to her. My allegiance to her. Undying, unyielding, she had me tonight. _Absolutely._

Taking her into my mouth, this first heated breath of me made Shepard buckle. Hardness candied as her skin, she throbbed hardest around my lips, as far as I could go. Shaping the top of my mouth as this curve of her; sculpting my tongue with the grooves of her veins, thickening, thickening. This slight pain in my jaw, already, made me moan against her, muffled and blocked by her sole privilege, her permission.

Paining more, I gave her this labor of love, blowing her growing; sucking everything of her I could reach.

Paining deeper from the dullness of Shepard's nails against my neck, along the bend of my scalp, controlling me. Even in her control, she let me move at my own pace. Steadily enough, slowly enough—just enough meaning, never rushing, never wanton or waning. This same rhythm, pacing, pacing. This same cadence of easing down, down to inhale this cologne-touched friction of her jeans; and back up to suck along her tip, these soaked popping sounds tempered by my repetitions, back down to her. Down to these growing pains, growing with her, growing toward her, growing and never slowing, never showing Shepard anything less than my complete adulation for her. Farther down to these deeper pains of _knowing her_ without a word, knowing of my fate, of forever chasing after her, keeping her inside me.

This pain was well worth Shepard finally giving me what I needed.

"Miranda… _fuck._ Fuck!" Her restricting efforts, blown away, blown away. "What are you doing to me…?"

Everything I possibly could.

To keep her with me, holding her close to me.

To keep the both of us from growing complacent.

Reminding her of what we had, of what we'd yet to have.

Proving to Shepard that she hadn't made a mistake in making me hers.

Endlessly, my work began to pay off. Breathless, Shepard panted out my name, shuddering in place. That low cadence of her sounds, colored at once as feminine and masculine, as both, as neither. No designations, such a loss of control. Calling out my name from the depths of her soul, fulfilling every part of me, validating. Soaking me, stroking me, spreading. Steadier and steadier, reliable as ever, I kept on like this. Kept on keeping on, even as Shepard finally broke as I craved, as I'd spent years wishing for, crying over, bleeding over, nearly dying in anticipation over. Over she went, over the edge. Edges of her nails digging into me, staying _with_ my movements, never forcing me one way or another. Craving this repetition, needing this security from me, Shepard breathed out harder, harder in this marathon, this solid rise I gave her. Lifting her as she lifted me each day, I savored this throbbing flavor of her release—without the mess—but just as satisfying. Satisfying in physicality, _feeling_ that pent-up strain leave her body, replaced with this surging euphoria only I could give her. No one else knew her the way I did.

Removing myself from her, catching my breath, I gave Shepard a moment. Still kneeling before her in obedience, I watched as she leaned back against the seat. Shallow breaths; legs spread wide to accommodate me; sweat rolling down the sheen of her skin. This softened curve of her flattened down over her shirt, over her stomach, moving with her movements, moving with her breaths. Engorged of her, I watched this majesty about her. Mesmerized. Enamored with this example of her power, leading my attention by the power of her example. This _very_ obvious measure of her energies, of her wants, her cravings, her satisfaction with me—I licked my lips, cleaning off these remnants of her, swallowing them.

Staring up at the ceiling of her car, breathing steadier now, Shepard had mostly found her bearings.

She could have drifted off to faraway lands. Floating away on that high. But she reined herself back in.

Growing harder, bit by bit, jolting almost—she had other ideas in mind for us.

Shepard reached her hand out, pawing at my shoulder. Steadily finding her awareness again.

"Miranda…come here."

Sitting beside her this time, right next to her, I felt this shift in her aura.

Facing her, I clasped my legs together. Prim and proper in my patience. Waiting for her next move.

Shepard angled her head toward me. Gazing at me with glassy eyes. Glancing me over: the freedom of my skin, shirtless and braless as I was for her. That glass of her stare trembled in admiration at this sight of me, focusing on the shape of my slowed breaths, the slopes of my breasts. Down, more, she fixated on the shape of my jeans over my thighs. And the sight of my heeled boots: domineering as they should have always been, instead marking me in submissiveness to her. All the while, her music continued to insulate us, isolating us from the world, from everything past the golden dark of this protected getaway.

Surprising me, Shepard removed her outer shirt—the red of her gang colors. I watched her movements, how deliberate she was. How her impossibly long hair shifted and cascaded with this removal, freeing. She did the same with the black of her long-sleeved shirt. Entirely generous, she bundled her shirts together, setting them on the seat behind me. Behind me as this intended pillow, perfectly so as she moved into me. Moving in, breathing in, giving me this sweat-coated taste of her lips; leaning me down, down to the seat, lying me down over her bundled generosity. Her care, her consideration. Coating me with all of it, more, in this patience about her. Patience, as she understood what I had conveyed before.

Adoring her adoring me, I wrapped my arms around her back. Softness of her skin, and the deceptive sinew of her biceps, her shoulders—angled by her white undershirt, sleeveless, and by her sports bra beneath, both structures shaping her sinew well. This sweet pressure of her weight on top of me. Sweeter still of her hair shadowing me more, blinding me to all but her, just as she had done to me last in my bedroom, back in my apartment what felt like an age ago. But this time, she gave me what I'd longed for before. _This time,_ Shepard gave me the heated relentlessness I'd dreamed of from her. This time she relieved me of any other thoughts, any other desires, commanding my sole focus on her. She reminded me of what else she had to offer me—this specific insistence of hers between us, pressing against me, between me, blocked only by my jeans, and the inconvenience of our timing this month.

Not at all discouraged by the inconvenience, Shepard burned her lips down my neck. She heated my breasts with her breath, pushing, suckling, owning me—making me react past my own boundaries, already. I had no place to hold back. Not with her giving me this rawness about her, at last unfiltered and unmitigated. Burning, branding me in her pressured energy. Pressure and pressure, exerting her love, giving it to me, giving it to me giving it giving and giving and giving, down my hips, down my thighs, suffocating herself against my skin for seconds at a time in her strength over me—acupressure upon me.

Freeing more, I felt a sudden swell of emotion—more once Shepard unbuckled my jeans, undoing them. Unzipping as I had done to her before. Paused only because I still had my boots on. Obviously in the way. Temporary, only temporary. She moved down, all the way down to my leather. As tall as she was, she managed this somehow, in her own grace here in her car, fluid in this plentiful space around us.

I expected Shepard to simply unzip my boots as well. To remove them straightaway. To set them aside.

Instead, she swelled me more. Taking her time, taking her time.

Lowering her legs, her knees to the floor of this backseat, as I had done. This time to stroke my boots, synthesizing her touch over my leather and over my skin all at once. Slipping her lips down to this curve of my boots, taking care to handle my heels with such precise need. Unexpected from her, completely devoted from her—I didn't recognize my own reactions, breathing out for her. Sounding out this swelling in my heart, raising and raising, cascading up and up as a rising waterfall. All from the way she worshipped me, the leather over my legs and farther down to my soles. Handling me. Taking me in this specific way. Kissing my boots as this fetish of ours, growing and growing. Somewhere in this dark, I saw the way Shepard grew and grew, hooking that much harder between her legs as she did this for me.

"You're too sexy like this," she murmured over an arch of me, reverberating all through my body. "I'm obsessed with you. How perfect you are. How I feel your emotions calling out to me." Of course she knew. She always knew. "Everything about you right now…you're my absolute ideal. Still real, though."

Doing this, continuous—spreading her lips over this leather of me, staying here. Remnants of the earth, of Shepard's roots and foundations all remained beneath my soles. She kissed all of me with that soul, as soulful as her music thudding through her car's sound system, still going, still going. Darkened in this paradise, lost for nothing, for no one: already she sent me so much higher, subbing this space for us.

Somewhere between my haze, Shepard took off my boots. One at a time. Taking her time again, more. Taking off my jeans; taking off this last of me, allowed for now. Leaving only this last between me, of a fabric and style less sexy than I could've prepared for. Yet I spent mere seconds worrying about it, before Shepard pulled my attention right back. Always, this authority of her touch, of her movements, of the way she handled me—Shepard could've done anything to me, _anything,_ and I would still be this moaning mess for her, having completely forgotten myself.

Messy as this was, on the verge of tears for no fucking reason.

Or for the simple reason that Shepard had gotten back on top of me.

And I opened my legs for her _immediately._ Right on her silent command. Never needing to say a word.

Even so, Shepard knew what had started in me. She slipped this curve of her right against me, knowing everything. She groaned in control with my movements, with the way I locked her between my thighs. I needed more, and she gave it to me. She gave me this preview. She indulged in me, rocking herself, easing within this tightened friction of my legs. Hypersensitive. Seeing the obvious pool over my eyes, reflecting the haze of this faint light around us—absorbing the truest light from her directly. Everlasting.

Purely focused on me, Shepard could mimic this thrusting between me, stimulating herself, stimulating us both—all without losing too much. Never losing her real attention on me. Never losing her strength, of her arms angled over me in power, locking me in the most euphoric cage of her weight over me. Steady, reliable, she gave me what I'd given her earlier. Mirroring this security, she comforted me with this sense about her, these movements about her. Curving between me, curving and curving, lighting me up even with this last piece blocking her full access. Right now, she didn't need it. She gave me more than enough, controlling, controlling. Encouraging this verge of me to fall, even as she continued, giving more. Encouraging more. Pulling this mess out of me, even as she stayed slow and steady for my sake.

"Miranda," she breathed, on beat with her efforts. "Baby—tell me what you're feeling. _Tell me,_ please."

Hypocritical, I tried to look away from her.

Shepard held my face in her hand. Touching me. Stroking my skin. Leaning down and into me, closer.

She took her turn to beg: "Don't pull away from me. Not now… Not after everything. I want you to stay."

Giving it to me more, she put her lower back to use, curving into me in a practiced rhythm. Undulating that small of her back; gaining this absolute access to me. Getting right at this spot of me, stroking with this whole of her. And the _second_ she heard this helplessness from me, whimpering, I switched on every single setting about her that I'd always needed. This one thing highlighted her gaze. This one sound from me shaped her heart as _mine._ The one, continuous need from me, expressed, pushed her deeper inside.

Lowering herself to me more, Shepard breathed harder. Her face closer to mine. Practically parallel.

So many words I wanted to give her.

Too many words.

Dozens. Hundreds. Thousands. _Millions of words,_ and they would never suffice. They would never be enough to tell Shepard how much she meant to me. Never enough, but she deserved them anyway.

They dissipated away, dissolving into this sordid mess of emotions fumbling around in my stomach.

Still giving me her love in motion, Shepard gave me the exact words I'd needed from her for so long:

"Babe, you just don't know…how crazy I am about you. I try and hold it back. I do my best to keep that image of mine. But it doesn't fucking matter right now. Tonight, that's gone. I'm not letting it get in the way. I need to tell you this now. If I don't, the words will slip away…and I might never get them back."

Shepard welded our eye contact together.

Not letting me look away.

Not letting me go.

Completely serious, her movements against me, between me heightened that much more, blissful—

"When I woke up again, the moment I first saw you— _I knew._ I knew you were the one. I knew I needed you. I fell in love with you that instant." So mindful of me, she paused only to kiss me. Kissing this sudden pouring down my face, wetting my hair, her bundled shirts beneath my head. Quietly, gently, with no less conviction than the truth of her words: "It's been this unspoken secret between us. Worst-kept secret, I should say…but you know. You filled in these gaps in my mind. You mended my broken childhood. You're everything I wished I had before. Everything I lacked; and that lack ruined my life. But _you_ —you're the perfect woman for me. Perfectly nurturing. Perfectly patient. So, so patient with me…"

This meaning in her eyes melded with her physicality. This pause about her encapsulated my patience.

I held her closer to me.

Needing her closer—needing to listen, needing to know, needing to feel her. Locking her between my thighs tighter—loose enough to not constrict; tight enough for this desperation she'd sparked in me. In her impassioned control, antithetical nevermore, Shepard held this haze of my stare. She inspired this nearing in me, closer and closer to all that I'd only arrived at on my own, bringing myself there by my own hand. Thinking of her every time. Needing her every single time. Imagining this exact moment.

This reflection of me shimmered in her eyes, right as she brought me up, all the way. Kissing her emphasis into me, as this dream come true— _"I love you, Miranda"_ —ruining me softly, ruining me higher. Destroying me in her tenderness, knowing we could never go back. Never, ever, and still she reasserted: "I love you…and this'll never stop. I can't stop. I can't, I can't."

Non-stop in this forever, she kept giving herself to me.

Immortality through time. Through these emotions she continued threading for me. Not knowing or seeing all that I'd sealed away, on purpose, even with this gentle destruction. And I would never be the same. Never the same person I was before this night. Before these hours Shepard spent staying on top of me, staying at this pace, staying at this rhythm. Staying at this dedication of mending my hurt feelings from earlier in the night, from well before then. Still giving me this brightness, this sunlight oncoming and coming at me, continuous and continuous. She held me together through my unraveling.

She never let me go, not once. Not even once she received that ill-timed message to her omni-tool.

No doubt from the Council.

Shepard tried to keep going anyway. I wouldn't let her. Half as an excuse to find my own bearings again. Half as some effort to put the mission first, despite this found paradise she'd given me for hours on-end.

We had to round up the team.

We had to begin the overnight flight to Eden Prime.

We had to prepare to push ourselves on the battlefield against the Collectors again.

I had to prepare to see Aria again, knowing even the slightest favor Shepard held for her. Jealousy burning a hole in my heart. Possessiveness flaring within me as I watched Shepard send off her emails. Replying to the Council. Notifying Aria. Such a horrifying change went through me as I watched her do this. Such a mind-shattering fear gripped at me, all from the reality we now had to return to. This reality that other women wanted the love of my life, just as well, and my love for her was not enough to stop it.

This obvious, obvious reality of how fragile I truly was. How dependent I was on her, far more than ever.

She had these delicate shards of me clasped in her hands. Close to her heart. Any sudden moves, and she would drop them. I would fall and shatter. Permanently. Forever broken. Forever irreparable.

Never the same, never the same.

Finishing with her messages, Shepard sighed. "So much for going to the 94 tonight… Then again, it's way past midnight. We should've gotten there earlier. We'll have to go next time instead. Didn't mean to lose track of time." She looked to me lying over the seat, still. Needing her, wanting her still. Forever and always. "Seems like you have something on your mind. What are you thinking about?"

What had bothered me earlier. Briefly.

What continued to bother me, more so.

What I worried about privately. Unknown to anyone. Barely even myself.

Shepard understood enough. "Okay, babe. I'm just saying, if you ever wanna tell me, I'm here to listen."

I nodded my head. Acknowledging her care, her devotion to me, fully expressed now.

And I watched her dress herself again. Watched Shepard attempt to return to normalcy, for the mission.

But there was something about this faint, faint smell of cigarette smoke around, reminding me:

That conversation I'd had with the Illusive Man, months ago. The tears I'd shed. The fears I'd expressed without words; the ones my boss had known without a word. How fraught I had been—and still was now—over making a mistake. Making more than one mistake. Falling short in my duty to Shepard as her protector. Not doing enough, not _being_ enough to meet the worst moments in the war ahead. Especially now that she had given me her heart. Now that she had given me her body, her truest trust. Now that she had taken me, and taken me, as this precursor to my full breaking.

Remembering my inspirations, I couldn't help thinking of Liara at a time like this. _Missing her,_ really.

And though we were off to Eden Prime without her, Liara would still be with us somehow.

With us in heart and in mind. With us in spirit. Waiting for a little while longer.

During my own waiting, I recognized where I'd gone.

Right at this time, at the juncture of my private fears, my own possible failings.

I knew for a fact that Liara and I would have no conflicts. No problems with one another. I still hoped to have her friendship at some point. Because she and I, the two of us—we existed as these mirrors of one another, adjusted at this slanted angle, with her missing certain qualities of mine, and vice-versa on my end for her. Her gentler kindness not quite there with me; my pragmatic ruthlessness not quite there with her. We were both the unrealized versions of one another. And so, as Shepard dressed me anew, before driving us back to her apartment, I considered. I truly considered the possibility of sharing this confession with Liara, with the woman I had always wanted to be. This confession of my fears. Hoping she would understand me through my own eyes, our hearts and minds rhyming with one another. Slanted as we were, this glass would never shatter.


	48. Insomnia - Eden Prime

_"Forced Vision" by Saltillo_

**XLVIII.** Insomnia – Eden Prime

_(Liara T'Soni)_

_"Ashley only waited five years for you. I will wait for a thousand, if that's what it takes—until I die."_

Still waiting.

Even after death.

Even with our immortality imminent.

Waking up alongside the captain's internal alarm at 7:00am, the tranquil comfort of my bedroom surrounded me. Dark indigo of the ambiance, so similar to the original _Normandy._ Lying down with my body completely bare, beneath what appeared to be the same, soft white comforter from my room aboard the ship. My comfort there had transferred here. Here to this wide space, this high ceiling, this calm quiet everywhere. Just like my bedroom back on Thessia, in Armali, within my childhood home.

Several bookshelves along the walls, filled to the brim with centuries-old texts on the Protheans. My desk along the wall, stacked with various datapads containing my notes and other research. The windows shining in the perpetual light of the seawater outside. Those windows should have shattered from the pressure. Absurdity, surrealism; no logic needed. Appropriately, these reminders of the SR-1 linked once more to a ship underwater, instead of outside among the eternity of the stars. This perennial undersea blue added to the indigo mood. And my adjacent bathroom nearby, door open; tempting me with reminders to take a warm shower. Or perhaps a cold one, after the night I'd had…

Comforted in my own chaos, I felt the crumpled bundle of my messy sheets beneath me, around me. Messy, in disarray. Holding this slight sheen of sweat that had coated my body as I'd slept. Even now, I felt myself breathing harder. Red tinting somewhere beneath my face, knowing I wasn't alone in this moment—at last, I had other eyes upon me once more. Judging me. My choices, who I was. Everything.

I wiped this chilled sweat from the crown of my head. Catching my breath. Feeling the same uninhibited lust from last night. Nearly overwhelming me. Until I remembered my obligations. My specific schedule.

I had to return to work soon.

No exceptions.

In my profession and area of expertise, I had no days off. No vacation time. Not within Insomnia.

Doing what I loved—even with my conflicting feelings—was enough to get me out of bed each morning.

Sitting up now, I found my oversized, black N7 T-shirt, strewn haphazardly over the nightstand. Putting my shirt on, I remembered how long I'd had this. I remembered the captain giving it to me before. As a gift in one of her dreams she'd long-since forgotten by now. But I remembered. I always remembered.

Covering down just past my thighs, I adored this shirt as my makeshift robe. This tighter fit around my legs helped to conceal the rest of me. Along with the mess from last night, fully dried between my legs. Despite everything, I enjoyed this exact feeling. Knowing that the captain had claimed me yet again. Knowing that I belonged to her, even in this clandestine way. But I obviously needed to wash this away in the shower. I couldn't go into the office like this, or my lab, let alone focus on the critically important agenda for today. And so I went to my bathroom, stepping over the heated floor, warming my bare steps in kindness. Turning on the shower, water warming in-tandem, I had one other thing to check on.

Returning to my bedroom, I went over the large, open space I'd sectioned off, practically as a room within my room. Within that space, I found Tali's companion here with me. Pure white fur. Gray-tipped, floppy ears. And such a round form. Tali's pet rabbit had just woken up. Munching on his leafy vegetables for breakfast, dispensed automatically at this hour, along with plenty of water for him. Noticing my approach, Tali's rabbit gently hopped over to me, wishing for pets as his way of saying hello.

Of course, Tali had wanted several more pet rabbits. But I had cautioned against this, as it would have been unsustainable. And so she'd settled for this one, along with many more stuffed plush ones instead.

"Good morning," I said to him, kneeling down. Stroking his soft fur with a smile. "I'll have to bring you with me for a while, to see Tali again. It's going to be a long day for us. Her father volunteered to watch you this time. Tali will want to give you a hug before we head off for work. I know you've missed her."

Tali had been putting in much longer hours lately. As was natural, during this transition period while she and the captain made up. Setting their previous disagreements aside. Finding their mutual trust again.

Though it wasn't _really_ Tali in Insomnia with me.

More like the captain's memory of her, and Tali's unconscious self, arrived here through our shared bonds together. The same was true for everyone else.

Everyone except me. My existence was the only 'real' one within Insomnia. Living and breathing, as this living dead.

The only actual links to the others occurred during their real-life dreams. All for the captain to spectate.

Eventually, she would learn why she couldn't discover my home location before. When she was first here weeks ago.

I refused to tell her myself. The truth of it burned me with a quiet rage. One I didn't need right now.

Returning to my bathroom, taking off my shirt, I immersed myself in the warmth of the shower. Washing away my unnecessary anger. Washing away the physical remnants of last night. Dousing myself with my soaps and body wash—this breezy smell of the winds along an ocean's shore. The same scent I had used for years. The exact same aroma that had initially attracted the captain to me. So many heated wants misted in the shower, playing out in the mirages of this steam. The captain's unconscious desires finding me, coming to me—coming inside of me for hours on-end—far more often, and more powerfully than before. I knew it was nearly time. I knew she would bring me back with her. Back home.

After my return, I had no idea as to what might happen. How I would feel. How she would feel. We were both different people now. We lived in such different circumstances. We had no guarantees together.

So many unknowns.

Leaving the shower, drying myself off, I put on my clothes for work. A variant of the fitted, white and blue lab coat I'd worn before, on Thessia, for the captain's birthday. She seemed to like it on me. This one glowed in a dull shine, all-black instead. Violet tints. Per company dress code. Directly from the top.

Wearing this makeshift uniform, I stared at myself in the mirror.

Mists from the shower lingered around the surface. Toward the edges. Leaving this center mostly free.

I found a near-stranger staring back at me.

Certainly, I still looked the same. Nothing had changed about my appearance. I had not physically aged a single day, even if I was technically older now—one hundred and nine years old. But only now did I see this glimmer, this sheen of my blue eyes returning. Now that the captain was aware of me. Now that she knew I was here waiting for her. Just as well, the blue of my skin seemed brighter somehow. Even with this black of my lab coat darkening my disposition. Adding an almost uncharacteristic intimidation.

_Almost._

More than that, I recognized who I'd become. Who I'd tried and failed to be before. If only my lab coat bore a Cerberus logo over my chest, then my transformation would be complete. It wasn't meant to be.

Still finding myself after all this time.

After making my bed—and changing my sheets, especially—I sat down next to the nightstand. Picking up my datapads along the surface, I went over the agenda for today. Eden Prime. The Collectors. This curious Prothean artifact from a dig site. The company boss had also scheduled a board meeting with the rest of the executives, lining up with the team's briefing aboard the _Normandy._ Each of the company executives managed their own sections of Insomnia; and therefore, we were each in charge of managing the captain's ego, moderating her personality and priorities. Ensuring she remained as her own person.

We did the painstaking, behind-the-scenes work in Insomnia, within the captain's unconscious mind.

The same thing I had always done for her. Well beyond her perception, her understanding.

Ever since the boss took over, things had been much smoother than before. Far more efficient.

Leaving his enclosed space, Tali's pet rabbit found his way over to me. He jumped up onto my bed. Keeping me company while I continued to go over my datapads, stroking his fur with my free hand. I kept a smile on my face the whole time. Glad that he was here. Adoring Tali's own gentleness in relating to such a docile animal. Once upon a time, I could have also related in the same ways. Not anymore.

Preparing to leave downstairs, I reached over to the foot of my bed. There I kept a blue blanket. One that looked just like the blanket from the captain's room. That blue one she kept, keeping _me_ in such a way. I folded this one in my arms. Knowing it smelled of me. Needing it to hold my scent for the days ahead. I then picked up Tali's rabbit, blanketing him in this blue. Keeping him calm and safe with me.

Soon I left my bedroom, bracing myself for the day ahead.

* * *

Arriving in the hallway, I felt this presence. An Alliance marine sentry remained posted by my door. Decorated in such a stately uniform. Shadowed face. No real identity. The same as the sentries posted within Insomnia's headquarters—guarding the captain's many secrets there—sent here specifically to protect me at all times. Or at least my room. As far as I knew, they never left this spot. Not for anything.

That other duty was reserved for someone else.

Across the way stood my lone security agent. Waiting for me.

Shades of sunlit browns and highlights of sunny blondes—she had her hair tied back in a long, tight tail.

Black of her fine suit and tie. Pale blue of her shirt underneath. And her endless intensity, attractiveness.

 _Her voice_ sounded from my agent, perfunctory and professional: "Good morning, Dr. T'Soni."

Even knowing what she was, my heart still pounded up to my throat. Trembling this whisper I let out—

"Shepard…"

My agent didn't respond.

She was just my security. Due to my rank in Insomnia, she was just here to protect me. To serve me. To lay down her life if necessary, given the threats I'd suffered in the past. Given the reasons why I had submerged myself underwater in the first place. To hide. To protect myself; to protect Tali as well. To escape Insomnia's ex-boss who still wanted me gone. This was my agent's sole purpose. Nothing more.

I swallowed this bitter truth, and left down the hall. My agent's soundless footsteps shadowed behind.

Still carrying Tali's pet in my arms, I thought ahead to seeing her soon. I would go pick her up from home. We would then commute to work together at Insomnia's headquarters. Hopefully she hadn't slept in.

But first, breakfast. My daily routine with another.

Downstairs, through this next hall, I saw the water's reflections everywhere, through the windows. Bluing the hues of the walls. Deepening the space all around. Widening the height of the ceiling, the expanse around me. At the largest living room, I stared out at the sliding glass doors. How that glass withstood the pressure from this submersion. Holding against the shifting sea waters, acting as this view for the aquamarine outside. Outside where the grass should have been. That park where I'd spent my years as a child, living out my fantasy as an archaeologist. The fantasy my mother had only humored for some time.

Adjacent to this living room was the kitchen.

And in that kitchen, sitting at the dining room table, was my mother herself. Benezia wore such a beautiful yellow dress. Sipping a cup of lemon tea; reading over her own datapads for work. Waiting for me. I smelled the wonderful breakfast she'd made for us. Warm cinnamon bread. Fresh slices of fruit.

I no longer had to ask my mother to make this for me. She had since stopped fighting against it.

Turning to my agent, I handed Tali's pet rabbit to her, and this blanket. Accepting both into her arms, she retreated to a corner. Standing vigil there.

"Good morning, Mother," I said, nearing her side.

Benezia gave me a look. She continued to observe me as I sat at the table, helping myself to breakfast.

"Liara," she replied, rather annoyed. "I take it you enjoyed yourself last night. You're simply glowing."

Pouring my cup, my face heated as much as this tea steamed and steamed.

Benezia cast a glare at my agent, lecturing me: "I don't know why you're still preoccupied with her. These look-alikes, these copies run amok in our home, day in and day out. You must know your obsessions with the captain border on insanity. She'll never leave that Cerberus woman for you. Not to mention, she practically killed you with her bare hands. Why do you continue to pine over her?"

Some anger continued to burn at me. As it always would, with these hurt feelings yet unresolved.

I couldn't really explain the rest. So I settled for eating my meal in silence.

My mother seemed to understand:

"I will concede that the captain is an extraordinary woman. A remarkable leader. Despite her efforts, she's not been able to forget you. It took some time. But she's beginning to come back around. She has already forgiven you for the past. As you knew she would. Her manner of loyalty to you is…reassuring."

Savoring this warm cinnamon, I asked, "Reassuring? In what way?"

"No matter what happens," said Mother, "The two of you will persevere. You bond will forever remain true. You both have endured a lifetime of hardships. The captain should have resented you enough to discard you more permanently. You should have hated her enough to abandon your post, leaving your duties in Insomnia behind. And now she will find you again in a matter of days. You refuse to move on."

I had no real response to that.

So we remained in silence for a while.

I ate my breakfast. Nearly finishing. Thinking of work. Of other things.

My mother continued watching me, studying me. As did my agent from the shadows.

Benezia noticed how troubled I was. "You don't seem convinced. I thought you would be more certain."

Drinking the last of my tea now, I tried to think of a response. I didn't want to be rude.

"In that case," strained Benezia. "I must offer my well wishes to you, Liara. Despite her mistakes with you in the past…I hope your relationship with the captain will improve. Once you return to the living."

"We will see what happens with her," I replied, taking my dishes to the dishwasher. "I understand this hasn't been easy for you. Your resentments for her have been great indeed, considering what she has done not only to me, but to you as well. She put you out of your misery on Noveria. In a way, she also put me out of mine. Everything that has happened since—it needed to occur. This was all meant to be."

"If that is what you believe, then I will try to accept it. You still love her. I will care for her as my own."

Looking to her one last time, I bowed my head. "I appreciate your support, Mother. Thank you. I must be off now. Tali is expecting me. You know this will be a long day for us. Perhaps we will see you later on."

Benezia watched me as I left. "Perhaps so. Have a wonderful day at work, then. Be well, my little wing."

With my back facing her, leaving the kitchen, I felt the way her words affected me. That pet name.

I flinched as a nervous tic.

All those repressions and painful memories had yet to leave me.

Mindful of my emotions, my agent followed behind. Saying nothing on purpose.

Back down the hallway, I entered the first of the guest bedrooms.

Through the door, I passed through to Tali's home. The very same appearance from the Flotilla, aboard the _Rayya._ The modest home she shared with her father, Chief Admiral Rael'Zorah. Perhaps not so modest, when compared to the shantytowns across the rest of the Migrant Fleet. But still quite small.

I found Rael'Zorah in the sitting room, at the table. Much like my mother did outside, he read over his datapads as well, for his own work. Sipping a small meal for breakfast through his straw, his helmet.

Noticing me, he gave his gruff greetings, "Ah, there you are, Liara. Good morning to you."

"Good morning to you, too, Admiral," I responded. "Is Tali awake?"

Rael'Zorah gave an uncomfortable pause. "I wouldn't say she is…"

"Hmm, I see," I said, knowing what he meant. "I'll just give her a moment, then. What are you up to?"

"Going over the agenda for today—for my research. These weapons tests have been grueling. Finding sufficient geth parts for this is no small feat. But I am no less determined to make this work. I must."

"I admire your determination, Admiral. I am certain Tali will appreciate your hard work. Whenever it pays off. If I didn't know any better, it seems you've dedicated your entire life to this single task."

"That's because _I have,_ Liara," asserted Rael'Zorah. "Speaking to you this way, I know that you are merely a dream. I am asleep. And I will wake without my daughter at home. Her absence continues to inspire me nonetheless. Our people will retake Rannoch from those wretched geth. And I will build Tali a home on the homeworld. She deserves no less from me. After everything…I must do this for her."

If only he knew this was no mere dream.

I asked instead, "Is this truly your way of making up for the past?"

"It is the only way I know how. I made my promises to Tali years ago. I will keep my word."

"Well, I encourage you to keep your promises. I only hope you'll be careful with this. Mainly how far you're willing to go to achieve your goals. One day, you may find that you've sacrificed too much."

Somber, Rael'Zorah noted, "You speak from experience. Don't you?"

"Of course… With that in mind, please take care with your ambitions. Tali can't lose you."

"Even so, I would have you to count on. You and Captain Shepard. You would take care of my little girl."

Such disregard for his own life. "Admiral, we will always take care of her. You have my promise."

Rael'Zorah accepted my promise. Even as he contemplated his next moves. He needed my reassurance.

"I should go find Tali now," I told him. "Are you still able to babysit today?"

"Yes, I will care for her young one. I am happy to do so."

My agent went over to him, handing Rael'Zorah his daughter's pet rabbit. Holding him in his arms. Disarmed by such tenderness, Tali's father sat with this contemplation. Observing Tali's love and affection bundled up as this animal. Giving off such a quiet joy, as if he held Tali as a small child instead.

That stoic awe sounded in Rael'Zorah's whisper, "Gentle creature…"

Smiling over his care, I made my way down the hall to Tali's bedroom.

My agent stayed behind me. Still carrying my blue blanket.

Posted outside of Tali's room was an Alliance marine sentry. Nearly indistinguishable from the others.

As I entered the room, my agent knew to wait here outside. We both understood that this was best.

And I entered to darkness. Not a single light on. Only the aquamarine filtering in from outside Tali's window, next to her bed. That breathtaking view of the entire Migrant Fleet submerged underwater.

Tali lay in bed. Seemingly still asleep. Mask off, hood down. The unhidden beauty of her face, graced by the blues of the sea outside. Those movements of her hands beneath her sheets. Those quiet sounds she made. She existed somewhere between a deep sleep and lucid dreaming, touching herself like this.

Staying near the door, I activated my omni-tool.

I saw for myself that Tali was still asleep in real life, in her clean room aboard the _Normandy._

But she needed to wake soon. To prepare for the mission on Eden Prime with the team. The briefing would begin at 9:00am as always. And here, with us, the board meeting would start some time before.

As long as we hurried along soon, Tali had some leeway to enjoy these last moments.

Staying quiet, staying still, I watched her enjoyment, waiting for the inevitable escalation.

That escalation soon entered: the captain's similar height and features. Wearing only a white sleeveless undershirt, and violet boxer briefs. Those long legs of hers crossed the room in this sea-shining dark.

And I struggled not to follow her—this other clone, this other copy—allowing everything to play out as it needed to. Breathing harder nonetheless, I watched as the captain's simulacrum went over to Tali in bed. Setting those sheets aside. Getting on top of her instead of me. Touching Tali right between her legs, the fabric of her suit moved aside just so, for perfect access. Kissing her—long, slow, and deep. Earning more reactions. Complete vulnerability from Tali in her whines, her soft moans. Needing more.

 _Begging_ as a whisper—"Shepard, take me… Please, Shepard. I need you inside me." Spurring, goading, Tali earned this clone's hardness against her. She spread her legs more to accommodate. "I need you to please me, right now. Use me. Fill me. I'm desperate for you. So desperate… I can't wait any longer."

This copy grunted out, "Just what I like to hear from you, baby."

Doing as Tali wanted, the captain's image took her right away.

Hiking Tali's legs up, drilling into her—she fucked her, _hard,_ with such disregard. Complete disregard for any gentleness or care. Pulling these weaker, higher-pitched sounds from Tali; reveling in them. Growling in a deep satisfaction over Tali's helplessness. Nearly monstrous, this clone hammered between Tali's legs, all in a measured frenzy. Calculating enough to keep at this spot, this perfect spot. Determined enough to keep going, knowing how loudly she made Tali whimper and whine and scream, gripping around her back, her shoulder blades. Superior physicality. Stronger strength. And that wicked curl of the captain's grin, teeth bared as she fucked my best friend in front of me. _Knowing_ I was here, watching.

Screaming the captain's name, sweating hard, Tali took this near-beating between her, needing this so.

Corrupting her, corrupting and corrupting—this clone delighted in taking Tali's innocence over and over.

Yet for all her corruption, Tali sounded as pure and sweet and frightened as ever, just as their first time.

Frightened by this ride, this emotional roller coaster. Addicted, obsessed. Unable, unwilling to let her go.

Gripping this copy, still, Tali rode this breaking and breaking and breaking, her voice shattering as glass; riding this high; needing more and more, refusing to let this ride end. Refusing to let this clone stop—

The captain's suppressed desires collided directly with Tali's dreams at this impossible force and speed.

"You need more, Tali?" goaded the duplicate, kissing her again. "Or are you satisfied?"

Losing her mind, Tali moaned, "I need more… So much more _. I need you!_ Please don't stop, Shepard…"

"You want _more_ of me? Is that it?"

Moaning even more. "Of course I do… I can't get enough of you."

"And what if I refuse? What'll you do then? Tell me the truth. Unfiltered."

Tali sniffled, filled with sudden emotion. "Shepard, don't… Don't go. You'll make me cry again."

"I don't wanna make you cry," soothed this clone, kissing more and more. "Don't cry, Tali. Please."

Breaths hitching, voice pitching—"You always leave in the mornings. You always leave me like this… It makes me want to drown from my wrists."

Soothing stronger, again and again—"You know what we have to take care of. I'm sorry. I'm sorry."

"Then give me what I want! Give me what I need if you're so _sorry!"_

"Okay, baby," said the captain's image, scrambling to please her. _"Okay!_ Just tell me what you need."

Tali made herself perfectly clear:

"Give me what you hold back—what you restrain every day you see me. Every time you look at me on the ship. On our missions. On shore leave. At the Citadel. Each time you hear my voice, and I arouse you. Whenever I say your name. How you crave me. I make you feel guilty over it. _Give it to me, Shepard."_

Impelled by her, this duplicate again scrambled to meet Tali's demands.

Two more copies entered the room. Wearing the same thing. Holding their hard length in their hands.

Completely ignoring me, they want to Tali in her bed. Standing at either side of her head, of the bed. Encouraging her: Tali reached out to both of them, both throbbing for her, badly. Taking both in her hands, she took her mouth to one at a time. Opening, taking. Devouring what she could, the very air in her throat fucked and fucked, those sounds laced with the soft desperation of her moans. Desperation for the captain's duplicates to do this to her. Desperation to throw herself at them like this, so craven.

The original one, fucking between her again, gave this twisted praise: "You're such a good girl, Tali…"

Praise igniting, Tali broke free from the incessancy pointing at her, twice over.

Breathing harder, filling her lungs, she looked up at this dream with eyes slanted in submission.

Quietly, Tali whined her sugary sweet fulfillment _—"Daddy…"_

This clone grinned in her own fulfillment, drilling harder. "You need Daddy to fuck you right? Is that it?"

Gripping the base of those girths, for leverage—"Yes… _Yes!"_ Breathing louder, needing louder; the duplicates kept going. "Fuck me, Daddy, _please_ —oh, please, Shepard—Daddy, fuck me, fuck me…!"

So sinister: "My sweet little girl needs me. You're my princess. I can't say no to you. _Fucking take it."_

Losing her mind all over again, Tali loudened her cries. Screaming for her _Daddy_ at the top of her lungs, at the height of her pleasure. Knowing for certain—and not caring at all—that her own father overheard her down the hall. The copies continued to use her. The copies continued to take her, to fill her. The captain's likeness continued to break her again and again. And still she couldn't get enough. Insatiable.

Only when Tali's alarm went off in real life did these clones vanish from sight.

And only when they disappeared could I finally breathe. Resenting this soaked feeling between my legs.

Through my omni-tool, I watched as the real Tali shot up from bed. She cursed in protest. Throwing her pillow over her head. Hiding away as she had a near-anxiety attack, controlled. Stunned, emotional, she sniffled and heaved for breath. Barely holding onto these last remnants of her dream. Desperately so.

I spoke to this version of her lying in the dark—"Tali, it's time to get up now. We have to leave soon."

Barely hearing my voice in real life, Tali removed her pillow. Such a surreal, out-of-body experience.

As this dream fully dissolved from her perception, she wondered aloud: _"Why did she say 'we'…?"_

She then left her bed. Left to prepare for the day. Left in a haze of restrained tears and budding arousal.

Leaving her to her privacy, I turned my omni-tool off.

Here in front of me, Tali sat up in her bed. Outlined by the sea's blue just outside the window. Caught in the near-headlights of her own eyes. Staring at me in this soft surprise. Though not for obvious reasons.

Timid, she asked me, "I did it again…didn't I?"

"Yes, Tali," I replied, stern. Nearly seeing her face redden in the dark. "You did in fact do it again."

"…I'm sorry, Liara. I know this isn't easy for you. I'm being selfish. I just—can't seem to quit her."

"And you don't have to. But we can't be late for work. We have a board meeting. The boss will be there. You know how this goes. _How she is._ We'll suffer the consequences if we're not in the room before her."

"Right, the meeting… I promise I'll get ready now. I won't take long at all."

"Of course," I allowed, leaving her room. Leaving her to silence. Leaving her to think all of this through.

* * *

After a terribly awkward wait with Tali's father, the sex fiend herself finally emerged from her room.

Tali wore her suit as usual. A darker violet than her one in real life, and with far more metallic surfaces and shades. A harder look, as the captain seemed to prefer for her. Again without her mask or her hood. Her gorgeous, vibrant face free, smiling at me. With her long, dark hair flowing down past her shoulders.

As Insomnia could pose no health hazards to the quarians, or to anyone, Tali continued to wear her enviro-suit for convenience. Like the other quarians among the Flotilla. Yet the captain only had a visual understanding of Tali's face. No one else among the quarians. And so her father appeared as the captain remembered him. Admiral Rael'Zorah still sat in his chair, holding Tali's rabbit; accepting this quick hug from his daughter, for him and her pet both, along with her promises to spend time together after work.

Linking our arms together, still affectionate despite everything, Tali and I left her home.

We reappeared in my same house, through the same guest room. We then exited the front door.

Somewhat counterintuitive, this exit from my home led to the _Rayya_ proper. As an extra layer of security, I had sheltered Tali's house mostly within my own. These waters visible outside the _Rayya's_ windows were all my doing, as this manifestation of my innate element. Walking past these amiable crowds of other quarians, Tali and I made our way to the public transport area. We had to take quite a ways around to reach the surface to the captain's headquartered ego, on purpose. Unless we magically transformed into either the captain or the boss, no one in Insomnia was allowed to walk up to HQ directly. The captain funneled that allowance through the city's transportation systems, recognizing who was authorized to work within her mechanisms, and who was not. Rather complicated—by design.

Only after taking the appropriate transit systems were we allowed to enter the building.

As the captain was such a private woman, this made the most sense for her.

Once Tali and I reached the public transport area, we found the place filled with other quarians. Most of them waiting to get onto the submarine-shuttles. Filing into the rather long lines, I took in the general chatter everywhere, still focused on Tali's arm linked through mine. She seemed rather distracted.

And I knew why. "You are a _fiend,_ Tali. I hope you're aware of this."

Tali giggled with her nerves. "Please, Liara," she tried. "They're only copies. Nothing for the boss to feel threatened over. Besides, this just means the captain wants me in real life, and she's holding herself back. I'm allowed to find my enjoyment from this. It's almost the same with you. Don't you think?"

That may have been true, but I didn't want the reminders right now.

Not so soon before work.

Not on this important day.

Arriving to the ticketing area, Tali and I finally escaped these long lines. We took the side entrance, swiping the sleek black of our executive cards for free passage. Thanks to our allowances, we had no need to pay those high fare prices. _Everything_ in Insomnia was overpriced due to the captain's high expectations, in all things. Tackling the inflation problem with treasury specialists and other economists wasn't feasible. Just like with everything else around us, this mind-over-matter economy was by-design. So everyone had simply learned to live with the inconveniences, adapting as best as they could.

On the underwater shuttle, Tali sat with me nearest a window. During the ride to the surface, we stared out at the deep indigo together, the entire Migrant Fleet below water. I recalled the captain's first reaction to witnessing this marvel, not too far from the entrance to HQ. The captain had assumed the water had been a mere byproduct of Tali's anger toward her in real life. Blocking off access. It hadn't occurred to her that I was the reason for this impossible phenomenon. Even though I'd been at HQ at the time, she and the boss had merely passed by the Flotilla in the main car. Off on their adventures.

Really, these waters were for my own protection. Tali's as well, especially.

Protecting us from our ex-boss. _Always_ from our ex-boss. That murderous, Satanic maniac.

And now that I was due to return to the living, the risks only increased. If our ex-boss somehow managed to find me, she could have inflicted true horrors. She would have burned me in her eternal hellfire. Killing me in Insomnia would have left me dead in real life as well. Leaving me 'mysteriously' dead in my sleep. And the captain would not have been able to simply find me again, bringing me back once more. Anyone else who died in Insomnia—Tali included, our new boss included—would have also permanently died in real life.

I would never be able to come back. I would be gone, lost forever to the void.

If Tali died instead—if I failed in my duty to protect my best friend—then she would be gone forever.

 _Anyone_ who died here would be gone forever. Never of natural causes. Only cold-blooded murder. And so my security agent followed me, as always. Always and forever protecting me from that catastrophe; protecting Tali by my side as well. The boss of course had her own agent, protecting her from the same.

Despite the permanent risks to my life, I hoped the captain would indeed bring me back soon.

Then again, if not for the _technical difficulties,_ she would have recorded my home's location last time.

I wasn't entirely sure if she would have been able to reach me back then. If the transportation system would have brought her here. If my other plans and allowances would have manifested themselves by then, facilitating the captain's ease of getting around, to find me. Possibly, maybe. Maybe, maybe not…

No sense dwelling on it now.

Besides, I had my solution. Glancing at my agent just nearby, she continued to hold that folded blue blanket in her arms. As silly as it sounded, this was my solution. Or at least it would be soon enough.

Reaching dry ground, Tali and I arrived to Grand Central Terminal, Insomnia's main transportation hub.

Styled exactly as the same landmark on the captain's homeworld, within Manhattan in New York City, the shopping, dining, and cultural destination held several thousand commuters. Built as beaux-arts, just like the classic Parisian architecture—the soft, golden atmosphere of these historic forms held such rich decorative detail. Even after having passed through several times over the years, this monumental conception continued to astound me. Thousands upon thousands of organics of all species traveled through here, chatter and laughter and rushing footsteps all echoing up to the tall lights hanging from the ceiling. So many of them exited their shuttle lines, transferring to metro rail lines and bullet trains, taking them farther across Insomnia, already the size of a large continent on Earth.

And I knew precisely why this terminal had taken its inspirations from New York City. I knew what the captain intended to do—at least subconsciously—in eventually bringing the boss to the actual city on Earth. Perhaps she wasn't aware of her intentions. She would become aware down the line. One day.

Passing through the Main Concourse, Tali and I made our way to the metro rail lines downstairs. Vermillion reds of the early morning light shone in through the lofty crystalline windows, that light passing around Insomnia's loftier, brooding skyscrapers outside. And the ever-present reminders of time, of my waiting, sat in the center of the area. The four-faced opal clock endured among this space, acting as a hub of its own—a meeting place for friends, families, and coworkers commuting together.

And each of these people were similar to Tali, to Rael'Zorah, or even to my mother. People living and dead whom the captain had inspired in some way—all across the galaxy—through her heroic efforts. People who looked up to her, regardless of whether or not she knew they existed. They had all linked together here, with the captain, through this collective unconscious she and I had created for ourselves years ago, during our mission against Saren and the geth. During those long, arduous months I had spent waiting for her, longing for her to return to me.

I had never intended for others to find their way here. Or for Legion's expertise to recreate such a space, virtually, for the captain and boss to explore at their leisure. Yet everything had worked out quite well.

Sitting by my side within this immaculate, all-black luster of the metro car, Tali discussed her plans for work today. As ever, my agent kept her hawk-like eyes on me, on Tali; on everyone and everything. Though plenty of other commuters recognized me. The underground lights from outside the windows flashed across my face as we sped by, lighting my eyes in-kind, my identity. Who I was. My supposed importance as one of Insomnia's top executives. No one sat close enough to overhear our conversation.

Rather overwhelmed, Tali shared with me: "I forgot to mention. While I was still at home, I received word about some damages to HQ. There's apparently severe flooding in the basement areas. From yesterday, with the captain's emotional breakdown. It seems our safeguards weren't enough after all."

"I worried they might not be," I expressed, frowning as much. "I ran as many simulations as I could. Attempting to prepare for her eventual flood of emotions. Had we made the captain's fortifications too powerful, this would have diverted resources from elsewhere. We couldn't shelter her completely."

"This was the best we could do. Really, it's fine. The flooding _could have_ spread to the rest of HQ. Or to the city itself. Luckily, I haven't gotten any such reports. No severe rain or flooding in other areas of Insomnia, either. Just this large area in the basement. Honestly, it's more than we could've hoped for."

"Yes, but you and your teams still need to deal with the damage."

"That's true," agreed Tali. "We'll have to drain the water, then make the necessary repairs everywhere. All on top of our other project: repairing the main car. The captain will want it the next time she visits."

I wondered, "Do you think the car will be ready in time?"

"I seriously doubt it… It's totaled. I have my best automotive experts on it. They're doing what they can. If the captain intends on exploring the city as well, she won't be able to. Then again, the car won't matter _if_ her only objective is to bring you back home. Will your other travel method be ready for her?"

"More than likely, yes… I'm not entirely sure if she'll manage to learn it. We'll have to wait and see."

Tali worried, "But Liara, can't you leave her some instructions? Or a few clues. Something tangible."

I shook my head. "Unfortunately, she needs to discover the idea on her own. Otherwise it won't work."

"Hmm, that makes sense. But I think the sheer size of Insomnia creates false expectations. The captain may feel pressured to explore everything all at once. She and the boss left HQ so quickly that night. Do you feel we're losing out by focusing so much on expansion? Expanding Insomnia's land mass, I mean."

"I've wondered about this myself. I'm not sure if now is the right time for public expansion. This is why we brought on our newest board executive, after all… Though I strongly disagree with _her_ being here."

Tali shrugged. "This is what the boss wants to do. I suppose we can't complain. Overall efficiency has gone through the roof now that she's grown into her role. She's much better than our last _leader."_

"Yes, I thought as much," I said. "The mutiny couldn't have come sooner. She needed to be dealt with."

"Absolutely. It's only too bad the ex-boss is essentially a vagrant these days. Wandering around on the run. Creating all those fire hazards for my teams to deal with. Maybe the new urban development head will be able to help us with these hazards as well. Unless she's only here to throw her weight around…"

I checked Insomnia's crew manifest on my omni-tool, finding our newest executive listed at the bottom:

_Captain of Insomnia – Commander Sol Shepard_

_President and Chief Executive Officer of Insomnia – Miranda Lawson_

_Vice President of Insomnia and Head of Science & Research Division – Dr. Liara T'Soni_

_Head of Metaphysical Engineering – Tali'Zorah vas Neema nar Rayya_

_Head of Public and Mental Health Safety – Staff Commander Kaidan Alenko_

_Head of Weapons and Defense Mechanism Development – Garrus Vakarian_

_Head of Normandy Fight or Flight Program – Flight Lieutenant Jeff "Joker" Moreau_

_Head of Egotism and Urban Development – Aria T'Loak_

Longing after this orange light, Tali mused, "I wish I had access to my omni-tool. Living without one is jarring. Especially because of how much I rely on mine in real life. Another reason to be jealous of you."

"You don't need to be jealous of me, Tali," I insisted, checking for something else now. "Though I do hope the board meeting will be productive. I've heard enough about this Aria to be wary of her. Beyond the captain's understanding. But, having her on the crew manifest now gives me a few permissions."

Tali leaned closer to me—"Going to spy on her?"

"Not necessarily… I only want to see what she's up to. This should help us pass the time until we arrive."

Opening this next real-life feed, I found the actual Aria T'Loak on Omega. She lounged in her large bed, hiding away from the world within her dark, violet-tinted room raised above the Afterlife club. The faint booming of the music's bass from below seemed to give Aria some sort of comfort. She stretched out her body, lying in the nude beneath her sheets. Knowing that her operations continued, and would continue during her upcoming absence to Eden Prime with the team.

With her comforts and pleasure, Aria had her own omni-tool open. Staring at these photos of the captain. Indulging in the captain's old modeling career. Running her free hand down her thighs; sighing in this pure hedonism of hers. She only stopped to check another tab on her omni-tool's browser. This tab…with what appeared to be a series of reports. Reports from Aria's professional agents—separate from her brutish thugs on Omega. Human agents she'd had shadowing the captain and the rest of the team on Earth, during their shore leave. She'd even had an agent watching the captain having sex with the boss in her car. All to fill in the pieces of how and where the captain lived and survived throughout her youth.

Aria had learned all the ways the captain should have died in the streets. Abandoned as an orphan as she had been.

And I remembered Aria was a mother herself. She had a daughter of her own.

I could only wonder what went through her mind, having learned this information now.

With this knowledge, Aria switched to another tab. Looking at the footage of Omega, her own station. Watching her own citizens. Sick and poor. Rotting away in the streets. Starving and dying, often through no fault of their own. Perhaps their _weakness,_ in lacking the strength to claw their way to more power.

Watching over the sickly citizens, Omega's militia guards looked on at the desolation. They frowned, upset. Yet Aria scoffed over this, muttering about their true identities as undercover Talon mercenaries.

Cursing in annoyance, she discovered a timely email from the leader of the Talon gang herself:

_From: Nyreen – How are you?_

_Aria,_

_You've been on my mind lately. Well, you always are. I suppose this is the first time I'm actually telling you about it. Though I'm sure you still think I'm too sensitive. Sentimental. Bet that hasn't changed over the years. What can I say? After all this time, you have this special place in my heart. You exist in this space where nothing and no one else can ever reach. It's such a transcendent thing for me. It really is._

_Have you thought any more about my ideas? About taking care of Omega's citizens. Your people. They need you, Aria. Even if you don't want the responsibility, it's still with you. I hope you'll do the right thing._

_-Nyreen_

Groaning in revulsion, Aria rolled her eyes. She closed the email with no intention of ever writing back.

Next, she took a moment to think about something. Considering, quietly. Weighing the pros and cons.

She then opened her omni-tool's speech recorder.

Unfiltered, Aria gave this monologue as her voice log:

 _"I've made up my mind. I'm going to deal with this so-called_ problem, _sooner rather than later. It seems I can't keep putting it off. Or at least that's what my intuition's telling me. And my intuition has yet to lead me astray. So I'll go ahead with this. Anyone who's out on Omega's streets can stay in my emergency shelter bunkers beneath Afterlife. I'll provide room and board for them, along with a stipend if they agree to work for me. Start with the basics. Simple training from my people. Teaching them how to act as security guards in neutral areas, to help me keep an eye on what's what over there. And if anyone gets caught with bribe money from my enemies, they're out. That's the most_ benevolent _thing I can do._

_"I'm putting Jarral in charge of logistics. She's another runaway from Thessia. We served as commandos together back in the day. Her life went one way, and mine went another, yet we somehow ended up on this station. Jarral claims I put her back together after whatever hell she went through when we parted ways before. Just in giving her this chance to work for me. I'm sure she'll be inspired by the new plans. Maybe she'll even suggest leading this new group as their captain, growing them into some real troops. To keep under the radar, of course. As an ace up my sleeve. Anyone who fucks with me will severely underestimate my numbers. They'll be in for a rude awakening. I'll make a nice example out of them._

_"On another note: I'm still rather…disturbed by something else. I don't say this lightly. It's that report Shepard's girlfriend sent me the other day. Not the helpful, more practical one about the Collectors, their tactics. I mean her other report. The longer one. About the drama that happened before, with the team. With Shepard's exes. Despite everything—I suppose I have a newfound respect for Lawson these days. For what she managed to pull off under that hotheaded little girl's nose. I also have a broader perspective on what's going on with Shepard herself. The whole indoctrination immunity thing sounds…romantic. Romantic, yet limiting. Extremely limiting. I can't make my move on her. The consequences would be insane. I feel shackled after learning how important her damned relationship is. Trapped in a cage. Imprisoned with my flesh and_ feelings _for her! My wants. My needs. My urges for her._

 _"I'll think on this some more soon. I'm getting ready to leave to my ship. The plan is to meet Shepard on her frigate, just outside Eden Prime's orbit. I'll join everyone for the pre-mission briefing. Then we'll touch down on the colony and get to work. After preparing with the intel Lawson sent me, I have no idea how this mission will actually go. It's not a matter of plans or tactics. I'll be following_ Commander Shepard's _orders. I've made the calculation that Shepard is more trustworthy than Nyreen. A calculation that's apparently cost me more than I bargained for. I despise having to deal with these fucking emotions. From seeing her again. Having these near-constant thoughts of her stuck in my head. These pervasive fantasies about how much I need her to just take me already! She's the only person in this entire galaxy I've needed to fuck me up this badly. To do a lot more than that. And not just with lust. But, this is the price I have to pay. I'm repaying my debts. Even if it means losing this part of myself to her… End log."_

Closing her omni-tool, Aria emerged from her bed. With some difficulty. Subtle, emotional difficulties.

Whether she sensed me or not, whether she knew I watched her or not—she soon found her pride.

She crossed her bedroom to the bathroom nearby. Preparing for the day. Forcing her persona back up.

Leaving Aria to her privacy, I closed my own omni-tool. Tali and I sat in a dazed silence. Processing what we had witnessed. Thinking over Aria's private pains and regrets as we arrived to our stop at HQ Plaza.

* * *

Heading down this long, decorated underground walkway, Tali kept her arm in mine. Lit up as we were, as everyone was by the digital art displays along the walls—shifting liquids of golds, shining this light along the pristine black surfaces everywhere else. Graceful golds shaped as water: these sights forever reminded me of the captain. Her essence blended with mine, taking up this physical space around us.

At the end of this walkway, we would find the underground entrance to HQ itself. Other commuters had come down from the actual plaza above ground, or were otherwise on their way up there. Some other Alliance and Cerberus employees also made their way to HQ, hurrying along. Everyone seemed acutely aware of what we had to do today. The seriousness of our duties. I trusted operations to run smoothly for the mission. But we of course had to work hard to ensure everything turned out well.

That sense of fulfillment had sustained me all this time. All throughout my waiting. My endless patience.

Perhaps as patient as I was, Tali and I found an old friend waiting for us.

Sitting near the railing of the moving walkway was Major, her gentle eyes firmly fixed on me. Those tall, pointed ears, and the smooth sable appearance of her coat stood out among the dark, the digital displays everywhere. Tail gently moving up and down over the ground, she seemed happy to see Tali and me both. But there was a bit of sadness mixed in her joy. Repentance. Her regrets. I hadn't seen her since she'd attacked me long ago, attempting to bite at my omni-tool arm. Yet it was difficult to blame her for the past. Major was only an animal. Following her owner's orders. I couldn't hold it against her.

I went over to her, with Tali following right with me.

"Hello again, Major," I greeted, smiling at her. Such a handsome pup.

Beaming as well, Tali asked, "Were you waiting for us?"

Major gave one bark with her affirmative.

Leaning down a bit, I made sure to pet her. Despite not enjoying this with others, Major found her enjoyment with me, her ears lowering and knifing at a peaceful, contented slant. All the while, I felt Major re-familiarizing herself with me. The breezy scent of my body wash. Along with everything else she could pick up on about me. I wished we could bring her to work with us, but after the previous incidents we'd had, Major sadly wasn't allowed inside the building again. Not without the captain's permission, anyway. Though I suspected Major would have her permissions renewed soon enough.

"Thank you for coming to visit us," I told her. "I know you have to get to work as well. Don't you?"

Major gave a low whine, not wanting to leave.

Tali reminded her, "You can't skip work again, you know. Your job is important. Though I can't imagine working the long hours you do. Your shifts seem rather intense. Working in the mornings _and_ evenings."

"That gives me an idea. If my plans are going to work, Major, you'll need to have your hours changed. It would be best if you weren't expected at the hospital. Not while the captain and the boss visit Insomnia. They're going to need your guidance next time. Do you think you could find a way to change your shift?"

Tail wagging in joy, Major translated her promise to me.

"I appreciate this. Perhaps you should get going now. You don't want to be late. We'll see you later."

"Bye, Major!" said Tali, waving goodbye to her.

Major barked again, once, before scampering off, the sounds of her chain-collar chiming with her movements. She ran in the direction of the metro trains. Ideally getting back to her shift at the hospital by public transit. These sapient animals such as Major didn't have to pay the transportation fares. She and her kind could freely roam Insomnia as they pleased, per the captain's permissions. Or per the captain's quiet fondness for animals, really. She had her affinities with them as the lone wolf she was.

As we continued on to HQ just ahead, Tali expressed her dismay:

"Now that I'm thinking about it, I'm not too excited for the board meeting. Having to see the boss again. Especially after the crazy night and morning I had. Keeping this secret from her _might be_ killing me…"

"Well, you didn't attend the company party," I noted. "From a few weeks ago, after the boss officially became our new president. I have a feeling she knows you're avoiding her. Even if she can't know why."

Tali groaned, recalling, "I wasn't in the mood for attending any sort of parties at the time… Besides, the captain was there in her version of the game. I didn't want to risk actually bumping into her. Not after the way my real self reacted to the captain's confession at the time—about you, and her involvement."

"I suppose so… Though I'm not clear if she would have been aware of you. She didn't even sense _me_ there, after all. She and the boss merely assumed everyone in the building was transparent to them."

"Why didn't you go up to her, then?"

I sighed. "Tali, _you know_ she wasn't alone."

Teasing me: "Not the perfect time for your romantic reunion together?"

"Oh, stop it," I tried, elbowing her. Tali giggled anyway. "As I've said, I'm not expecting anything elaborate once she does find me. She and I will have a talk. One that's long-overdue. And that will be it."

Through the highly-secured, underground entrance to HQ, Tali directed me to the basement. Returning here, I felt enveloped in this sense of nostalgia and productivity. Mornings or evenings, headquarters forever looked the same, with these sleek marble floors of black, the walls and ceilings of the same color. All lit up by these smaller floor lights of renegade reds, of paragon blues, joining together as the captain's blend of morality. Such a confident air of professionalism everywhere. Corporate competence.

Still, the basement was in bad shape. Tali and I couldn't fully go downstairs.

Stopped at this halfway point, we saw the damage for ourselves. Like going down to the lower decks of a flooding ship out at sea. Several of Tali's engineers swam through the waters, their heads nearly reaching the ceiling; shouting over the occasional sounds of crackling electricity sources all around.

To think this was my doing…

"Goddess," I breathed out. _"This_ is the result of the captain's reactions to me? Her sorrows?"

Tali lamented, "Unfortunately, yes… I'll need to guide my teams on their preliminary fixes—before the board meeting, that is. I promise I'll be in the room on time. I'll see you later?"

"Of course, Tali," I accepted, embracing her. "Good luck with your work. I'm sorry we couldn't do more."

"Don't worry about it, Liara. It's all part of the job. I'm happy to serve at the pleasure of our captain."

As I tried making my way back upstairs, I noticed the steps were rather wet. Glistening from this overflow, as my doing, I barely felt the boots of my lab coat sliding over these marble surfaces. Not enough for me to fall. But just enough to drive home the reality of how I'd affected the captain this way.

Authoritative in her care, my agent held the bend of my arm in her hand.

Standing on the step just above me, I looked up at her. That unyielding sense of calm. Her security.

"Watch your step, Dr. T'Soni," she cautioned. Still holding my blue blanket folded in her other arm.

Lowering my head in a sudden shyness, I murmured to her, "Thank you, Shepard…"

Continuing her care, my agent guided me back upstairs. I held onto her arm instead of Tali's, now. And what a difference it was. Almost as a whirlwind, being linked to the captain's likeness in this way. In the middle of this quiet storm, my face wouldn't stop heating, reddening for all to see. The other employees passing us by certainly noticed. They even watched as my agent guided me into the nearest women's restroom, to the continuation of the black marble here, the softer lighting spread out before the sinks, the mirrors there. Vague chatter from the female employees around, their speculations about the damage to the basement; they watched as my agent gathered a handful of paper towels. They stared as she lowered herself before me, down on her knees. Kneeling before me to dry off my boots. Dutiful.

This abundance of her caution, her meticulous sense of protectiveness over me:

Pressing my palms against the smooth, cold wall, I lifted my legs, one at a time, for my agent to dry off my boots, thoroughly. Even with so many eyes on us, she paid them no mind. She remained mindful of this shallowness of my breaths. How I couldn't help reacting to her after all this time. Yet she made no comment on it. She changed nothing about her focus. Focused on this task. Focused on serving me.

Serving at my pleasure, just as I did for her likeness.

Finished with her task, my agent disposed of the paper towels, to be recycled and reused anew. She then went to the sinks. Washing her hands. Keeping her eyes to mine through the dazzle of the lit mirror. Keeping this intensity of her focus on me, even as I couldn't, wouldn't look away from her.

My agent soon returned to my side. Waiting. Prompting me to carry on, and she would follow me anew.

Wordless in my gratitude this time, I touched her face. This softness of her skin. The luster of her complexion. The gentleness of her gaze upon me, even with her enduring professionalism. Yet we could do no more than this. I never could. Not with her. Not with this version of her. In my desperations, I had attempted before. Yet my agent had merely remained then as she did now. Perfectly still. Statuesque.

Betraying nothing in her heart.

And so I carried on, as she wished me to do, leaving this women's restroom. Leaving to the central elevator down the hallway. Walking onward as she followed behind me, protecting me as my sentinel.

Within this cylindrical space of the elevator, I found a brief solace away from HQ's many other employees. Traveling up to the 60th floor, the clean glass around me opened up to the majesty of Insomnia beyond. Raising higher, I stood nearer to my agent for the ride. I stared out at this interminable view of the city, seeing my reflection there in the glass. Seeing doubles, triples, of my reflection reflected through the light of my eyes, of my agent's eyes upon me. So many skyscrapers. So many lines and connections from the public transportation systems throughout. So many traffic lines from the ground vehicles below. Yet everything moved smoothly, efficiently at this dawn. That perpetual golden mist from HQ's halo—it traveled and extended outward, as always, forever replacing the regular white of the clouds and the blue of the sky.

Vermillion rays from the morning continued to shine through. This illumination brightened Insomnia's enlightened morning, and all its citizens across this grand space. And I felt such a sense of pride, staring out at these sights. Witnessing my creation with the captain. This manifestation of our bond together.

The collective unconscious I had created for us—out of pure love—reimagined into this grand allegory.

Checking my omni-tool, I saw that I still had some free time. The real-life briefing aboard the _Normandy_ would begin at 9:00am, just like always. I decided I would go say hello to everyone at our executive rest area, before checking up on things in the lab. By then, it would soon be time for the board meeting.

Arriving to the 60th floor, I exited the elevator with my agent.

Passing by this large, life-sized version of the _Normandy,_ I took in the sense of ambiance everywhere. Despite the black all around, this supposed brooding, the windows brought in the perfect amount of light over the shining surfaces. That everlasting touch glimmered in from the giant picture windows along the far wall, playing out the city's view as a cinematic vid for us. Various employees sat along the couches nearest that view, socializing with one another. Sharing their breakfast they had procured from the general dining hall nearby, or brought along from home. Going over their own agendas for the day.

Through the _Normandy's_ central hangar awaited our executive rest area. Styled just like the rest of headquarters, this open kitchen and mess hall remained as our privilege. Unlimited meals and snacks and other conveniences. Plenty of places to sit, to admire the view from this side of the building. A large vid screen hanging from the wall, showing this morning's Alliance News Network broadcast. The newscasters currently went over real-life events the captain had consumed during her routine. This particular segment discussed Mordin's seeker swarm countermeasure: the Council's ongoing efforts to distribute these protections to the citizens across Earth. In case the Collectors ever attacked the humans' homeworld.

They would have been utterly foolish to do so. But I supposed anything was possible with the Collectors.

I made my way over to the table where everyone congregated together. Kaidan, Joker, and Garrus were already here with Wrex and Dr. Chakwas, eating breakfast and sharing conversation. They all wore black variants of their usual, real-life outfits, lined only with violet, per our dress code as executives. Approaching them, I heard their speculations about our newest executive that had just joined the board. They viewed Aria's speedy promotion as a sure sign of trust from the captain. Or perhaps something more.

"Hey, Liara!" called Joker, waving to me. "Get over here! We were just wondering where you were."

"Ah, good morning, Liara," greeted Dr. Chakwas. "I figured you and Tali were preoccupied downstairs."

Kaidan noticed Tali wasn't by my side, for once. "She's not with you?"

"Not this time," I shared, standing near the table. "She and her engineers are repairing the damage."

Wrex chuckled. "Think Tali's got her work cut out for her. You sure did a number on the captain, Liara."

"Well, I didn't do it on purpose…"

Garrus reasoned, "It was bound to happen eventually. The captain did her best to set it all aside. Trying to move on. The boss kept expecting this to go down. And then it did. This could've ended badly."

Kaidan questioned him, "Wasn't that on _you,_ though? You're the head of her defense mechanisms."

"I had to follow orders, Kaidan. You know that. The captain didn't want to show weakness. If she'd behaved like this before finding her own stability, it wouldn't have gone over well. Timing is everything."

"You mean stability from the boss," said Wrex. "Or the alpha female, I should say. The superior woman."

Joker insisted, "Nah, I keep telling you—the boss _is_ the captain's queen. Like the Queen-Empress of Insomnia instead of just President! I'm dead serious. If you could see how the captain's stuck on her, you'd say the same thing. I swear, it's like some courtly, princely, Renaissance-era romance stuff!"

Dr. Chakwas noted in amusement, "As it should be. The captain is downright old-fashioned with her habits and predispositions. Her loyalties are nigh-impenetrable. And yet there's always an exception."

Everyone looked to me.

Putting me on the spot like this, they expected me to say something. To comment on my situation.

Really, what could I say? I had yet to explain my truest feelings about this. Not to mention, Tali and I both kept our secrets from them. This matter of our own private obsessions. Our _visits_ from the captain.

The others couldn't know.

They could never know what I suffered. With my regrets over the past. My frustrations with the present.

My abject agonies over what I had missed out on—in being the captain's one and only, now and forever.

"Liara, hey," spoke Kaidan, gentle. "What do you think'll happen once you're back? In real life, I mean."

"Yeah, what's it gonna be?" worried Joker. "You can't go back to ignoring us again. Keeping that same distance you did before. You have any idea how much we missed you back in those days? Back when you'd stay holed up in your room on the ship? Like, _I'm_ saying this! That's how you know it's bad."

"I feel the same way," shared Garrus. "Pretty sure it's why your death hit me so hard. Couldn't help feeling like we missed out on so much. You've always been there for us. Looking out for the team, for the captain. Doing your best to protect her—even from the one closest to her heart at the time. It wasn't easy for you…and you kept it all inside. I wish you had trusted us more. Enough to share this."

Dr. Chakwas entreated, "Won't you consider being more present with us? Please, Liara. We miss you."

"Always have," grieved Wrex. "Always will."

Quieting with more regrets, I considered their words. Recognizing where their worries had come from.

I felt as if I had left Insomnia already, sooner. Speaking to everyone in this frank way. Learning of their own raw emotions. What they fretted over in missing me. How I refused them this access to me. But really, it was never about ignoring them. It was only my shame. Just my shame with my many failures.

So I told them what little I could: "I appreciate your concerns, everyone. And I promise I will think this over. For now, I should get going. I need to check on the lab before our meeting. Please forgive me…"

Asking for my friends' forgiveness in this moment—

This was about far more than needing to leave. They knew as much. They saw the truth in my eyes.

Yet they easily gave me their forgiveness. Giving me their smiles as I retreated to the lab. Forever extending their clemency for my sins. Forgiving me as the captain had done, after my long wait for her.

* * *

At last I escaped into the dark, quiet sanctuary of Insomnia's main laboratory.

Yet another Alliance marine sentry remained posted by the entrance. That same decorated, stately uniform. The sentry monitored me as I went through the automatic doors, through to this impossibly large space. And this space was _the_ place. This space sectioned off as stark shadows vaguely tinted of violet. This space filled with various systems and equipment running smoothly, each lit up as a paragon blue, siphoning their primary influences from me. This place with a floor of metal I passed along, shifting between those starker shadows, and the brighter lights from the lab's equipment. All while walking over the floor itself, occasionally opened up to grafts shining up a renegade red light instead, as the captain's dominant self. And the many Alliance and Cerberus scientists shared in this dynamism with me, working in unity and harmony at their stations. Many nodded to me in greeting, recognizing me as their boss.

This lab contained all the processes I had used before. Before the captain's death. Knowing her, feeling her in those otherworldly ways. Running those simulations. _Seeing her._ I had been here, in this place, using the equipment all around—without realizing it. Much like playing the keys of a piano, and having the music play as a consequence, while having no perception or understanding of the instrument itself.

Now I shared this space with the scientists who worked under me, here within Insomnia's Science & Research Division. At my direction, we maintained the captain's Machiavellian balance with her personality. Her priorities. Her pride, her ego. The exact formulae of our work added up to the essence of her. The essence of what it meant to be _Commander Shepard_ —both the woman and her personas.

I reached my own section of the lab, far-removed from everyone else at their stations upstairs. Down here I could work in peace, yet still remain surrounded by the general productivity everywhere. Only my agent remained nearby. She stayed in her own corner, choosing to stand there. Maintaining her vigil over me as I logged into my work computer. Standing at my work computer, next to this free space. This tall leather chair. This single comfortable seat. Forever reserved for one person, and one person only.

Soundless in those footsteps, I sensed her approach. Right as I had hoped. Right as I had wished for.

Right on time.

This visual manifestation of the captain reached my side. Keeping her hair down, relaxed as she was within the space of her own mind. Wearing her formal Alliance officer's uniform. Those blues fitting her perfectly so. The pristine details of her trousers, the steamed creases there. The dark polish and shine of her dress shoes. The strong piping of golds over her shoulders, down her torso. The chains of decoration over her chest. Decorated in awards, ribbons, medals. A marine of distinction—she found me with pride.

The captain's mental presence here spoke of her real-life preoccupations.

She actively thought of me. Whatever she was busy doing before the briefing, I was on her mind.

She couldn't _see_ this lab. She couldn't perceive this unconscious location, or my actual presence here.

Yet this closeness signaled enough. The captain saw me in her thoughts. She kept me at the forefront.

As I attempted to work, maintaining my professionalism, this version of the captain surprised me. She moved much closer to my side. Looming over me. Hovering over me in her height well past my own. She breathed against the crests over my head. I smelled this unique cologne of hers—the one she'd never worn around me before, so long ago. Scowling in that stoicism of hers, I caught her fixations out of her corner of my eye. And that attractive gap of skin over her furrowed brow, of her scar that had healed there. The one she hadn't had during our time together in real life:

These reminders reminded me of my own obligations.

"Good morning, Captain," I greeted, still typing away at my computer. Checking over her diagnostics. "It looks like you are doing well today. Much better than the last week or so. I'm glad you've recovered from last night, especially. Tali and her engineers are repairing the damage as we speak. So long as you continue on this path, we shouldn't have any repeats. Not any time soon at least." The captain stayed by my side. Tempting me all over again. "Captain…if you could please take your seat. It's waiting for you."

Doing as I asked, she sat down in the leather chair. This intensity of her stare was not new, yet the severity of it was. The handsome length and sharpness of her face continued to entice me, pointlessly so. Because there was so much more to her. Far more behind her stare. Past her thoughts. Well beyond this realm around us. Some parts of her forever remained locked past my understanding, past my reach.

Despite my privileges, I could not see _everything_ about her.

"Thank you, Captain," I said. "Now, I'll need to get to the board meeting soon. You have an important day. Before I do that, I wanted to ask you a few questions. If you wouldn't mind. This won't take long."

Nearly drilling through me with her stare, the captain replied, "Ask away, Liara."

"During the meeting today, the boss expects a brief report from me. About these automated processes. How I help maintain your emotions, your personality. According to every measurable metric, this project is a success. But you must be aware of the limitations with my work. What I cannot see. Aren't you?"

The captain leaned back in her seat. "And what can't you see about me?"

"If you recall before," I prompted, "I wasn't able to interpret everything about you. Sometimes, I would search and search, and yet I could not find all the answers. And so I would ask you for clarification. There were times when you would know. Pulling from your own perception to fill in the gaps I had back then."

"Mmm, I remember. What are you looking for this time?"

"I wouldn't say I am _looking_ for them… These particular answers. Only that the boss expects me to know what they are. She leans on me to know you, so that she might also see you completely. No alarms and no surprises. None."

"Well, that's too bad," dismissed the captain. "The two of you are always in my head. I'm allowed _some_ information to myself. Things you can't know about me. Things you can never know. It's only fair."

"Then what am I to tell her when she asks?"

"You can tell her there's a tradeoff. Everything's automated, but you won't catch everything. It's fine."

I purposely did not log her answer. Any of these answers. This needed to stay between us.

"Captain, how are you so comfortable keeping these secrets from her?"

"It's only natural," she claimed, shrugging. "Yeah, I demand complete honesty from her. There's always a loophole involved. I know she hasn't told me every single thing on her mind, in her heart. Some degree of separation between us is pretty healthy. I don't want the two of us to become the same person."

I pointed out, "You say this, knowing the boss is obsessed with you. Your details. Knowing everything."

"Miranda's free to chase after that fantasy all she wants. I'm not giving it to her. Or you. I never will. I'll let you two wander around everywhere else in my mind. Just not here. Besides, you should get going now."

"Very well, then… I will return after the briefing. You are free to wait for me here. Or you may go to the boss in her office. Whatever you decide, please remember your focus for the mission. It will make my job easier."

"All right, Liara. I'll see you again soon."

"Goodbye, Captain," I said, leaving the area.

The captain sat back down in her leather chair. Watching me as I went. Watching my agent, this duplicate of her, following behind me—as this extension of her. This extension of her desires. Her wishes to protect me herself. To make up for the past; to make up for losing me. For leaving me behind.

* * *

This modern classicism of the board room welcomed me, blended as both. The long length of the central table shined on in this lighting, the dark wood showing off an impeccably clean polish. That wood reflected the lights spread along the space, against the walls, just bright enough to keep the area well-lit, yet subtle enough to not stand out any more than necessary. Rising columns separated the sections of the walls, holding slabs of blue-black marble, each hanging there in the likeness of a painting. And the far wall remained free, the wide display there turned off for the time being. Soon enough, the vid screen would show us the goings-on inside the _Normandy's_ comm room. Only at the boss' behest.

Arranged in order of seniority around the table, these leather chairs held each of Insomnia's executives. I arrived somewhat late, yet still on time, with almost everyone else having gotten here before me. Joker, Garrus, and Kaidan carried on their conversation with Tali, each of them smiling at me as I entered the room. I returned their smiles, taking my seat near the head of the table, and across from Tali. She gestured with her head toward the empty chair farther down. The one for our newest executive.

Aria T'Loak soon arrived, snapping everyone's attention to her. Including mine.

Like the others, she wore a variant of her usual outfit. The white of her leather jacket replaced by violet; the reds over her long sleeves replaced by the same. All-black everywhere else, all around her, with those teases of violet skin showing down her hips. Those teases: this tall, limber, fit shape of her. A dancer's body. Telling of Aria's history working those poles at Afterlife before taking over as the Queen of Omega.

Fashionably late as expected.

Yet she'd arrived before the boss, taking her seat now, which was what mattered. Anything later would've been a disaster.

"Hey there, Aria," welcomed Kaidan. "Good to see you on your first day. Getting used to the changes?"

"Changes?" sneered Aria. "What _changes_ are you talking about, Alenko?"

Garrus cleared his throat. "Think he means the, err, added benefits. Special treatment. VIP?"

"Oh, please. I can assure you this is nothing new. I've had my own executive keycard since day one. The only difference between then and now is I actually get to sit here with you. Nothing's _changed_ at all."

Full of contempt, Tali muttered under her breath, _"I knew it."_

Joker blurted out, "What?! How the heck did you have your own keycard already? Did you steal it!?"

Aria waved her hand at him. "As if I'd ever have to resort to stealing to get what I want. If you must know, it was already waiting for me when I got here. To Insomnia. The second I woke up in my room at Afterlife, there it was, sitting on my nightstand. The keycard even had my name on it. So I used it to travel around the city as I pleased. Never got in trouble. No one ever told me I wasn't allowed to use it."

Kaidan seemed at a loss. "Well that's—surprising."

Joker coughed. "Not really, dude."

"Oh… It's not, huh?"

Garrus shrugged. "Guess not."

Aria questioned them, "Just what are you boys on about? Don't keep me in suspense now." Too tongue-tied to answer her properly, Joker, Kaidan, and Garrus said nothing further. "Figures. Well, this seems like a wonderful start to our working relationship. I ask you basic questions, and you can't even give me a straight answer! It makes me wonder what's really going on around here." She then looked to me. Leering in superiority. "And if it isn't Little Liara, sitting in the big VP's chair. I have to say, it suits you."

"Hello to you, too, Aria," I said, dreading this conversation already. "Your sarcasm is also duly noted."

Chuckling in amusement, Aria gave me a false smile.

"That wasn't sarcasm," she claimed. "I meant what I said, _Madam Vice President."_

"I don't believe you at all."

"Thankfully, you don't have to. You can take my praise in stride. Or you can be difficult. It's your call."

Buying me some time, I noticed the vid screen along the wall had turned on.

This display showed the current, real-time events within the _Normandy's_ comm room. Legion had arrived first, taking its place near the head of the table. The others began to file in as well—Samara, Mordin, Thane, EDI, Zaeed. Jack and Kasumi entered the room together, not saying anything, yet giving off the air that they'd had quite the involved conversation before arriving. James shuffled in after them, attempting not to draw attention to himself, yet failing miserably. Given his sheer size, it was difficult _not_ to notice him. Jack glared at him accordingly, causing James to shift around in his standing location.

Kaidan, Garrus, and Tali entered the comm room next—stifling yawns, attempting to find more alertness. They'd apparently stayed out at the 94 with Joker all night. Grumbling over their lack of sleep, they continued talking to one another. Hoping the conversation would wake them up for the mission.

Fully awake in the board room with me, this Tali glared at Aria across the table.

"Just so you know, Aria," she began, venomous. "We're taking a risk in bringing you aboard. Allowing you the _privilege_ of serving our captain this way. I disagree with your sweeping plans to strengthen her ego. And yet the boss has decided you're going to be an asset. The least you could do is respect Liara."

Aria knew better than to argue the point.

Yet she regarded Tali anyway, getting a better look at her. Seeing her actual face unmasked like this.

"Cute," she said, amusement dripping with disdain.

Tali huffed over the dismissal. Aria chuckled again. Entertained by Tali's attitude toward her.

Through the vid screen, Miranda entered the comm room. Inspiring the team to lower their voices.

At the same time, here with us, the boss arrived to the board room. She had her own security agent—another version of the captain—dressed in a similar suit, yet with a shirt underneath of a Cerberus orange instead. The boss herself wore the same all-black, domineering outfit that Miranda had during her first visit to Insomnia: that tight boot-and-dress combo, as the variation of her Cerberus uniform.

Out of pure respect, we all stood up upon her arrival.

Everyone except for Aria. She remained sitting in her seat. Purposefully choosing not to follow protocol.

Garrus, Joker, and Kaidan began to sweat over the snub. Over what this could have devolved into. Tali scoffed in disapproval.

I merely observed as the boss approached Aria in her chair. Glaring down at her.

Superior in status and stature, the boss spoke with her authority: "How wonderful to see you, Aria. I would've commended you for being on time. Yet it seems you're determined not to earn any praise from me. It doesn't matter. I'll just ask you plainly. Would you mind following everyone's lead and _standing up_ when I enter the room? Or would you rather I fire you on your first day of the job? Should I decide to terminate you, your executive keycard will be useless, effective immediately. As would any other _special permissions_ from the captain you no doubt enjoy on your free time. The choice is yours."

Aria stared at the boss, her eyes hollowed and vined by hatred and envy.

She slammed her hands over the polish of the wooden table. Standing up appropriately. Digging her nails there over the surface, her fingerless gloves all but burning from the friction.

The boss sneered, "That wasn't so difficult, now was it? Be a good girl and remember this for next time."

Ignoring Aria's growing ire—that controlled flex of her biotics—the boss crossed the room to the head of the table. Tali snorted back her laughter, maintaining a modicum of respect as the boss walked behind her. Joker, Kaidan, and Garrus looked absolutely stunned, floored by the boss' implications. I felt some amount of shock over the exchange. Yet I was not surprised to learn of Aria's extracurricular activities with the captain's copies. I wondered just how deep their made-up relationship went. But I knew better not to ask, nor to spy on her any further than I already had. I couldn't keep doing that. Not anymore.

As the boss took her seat, the rest of us sat down in unison. Aria was… _delayed,_ yet she still followed.

During this time before Shepard arrived to the comm room, the boss led our board meeting:

"Let me be perfectly clear—I'm disappointed with how few of you are present in this space. Yes, I'm the one who makes the hires. Yet it's also up to the captain to make each of you _available_ for me to do so. Certainly, Wrex and Dr. Chakwas have their place among us. But they won't be joining us for the actual suicide mission itself. Wrex will be busy on Tuchanka, and Dr. Chakwas is a non-combatant. We'll see what happens with our newest hire for Egotism and Urban Development. In short, anyone _not_ in this room, here in Insomnia, is in danger of dying during the suicide mission…possibly even Shepard herself."

I looked to everyone looking at one another—except for Aria—taking stock of our situation.

No doubt the strength of the captain's bonds would determine our success on the suicide mission.

Yet she still seemed rather averse to making much progress. The captain continued to treat most of the newest team members as her employees, her subordinates. And it would have been fine, if this were a routine military mission. She lacked the finesse required to reach that deeper level with the whole team.

The boss continued on: "We need to keep working hard with this. All to ensure the suicide mission goes as smoothly as possible. Once our current objective is complete, the entirety of our ongoing progress will carry over to the Reaper invasion. To that end, I'm interested in hearing relevant updates from each of you. We'll start with your current projects, going around the table as usual. Liara, you're up first."

"Thank you, Boss," I accepted. "We're able to maintain the captain's emotions and personality entirely via automation now. I'd had to do everything by hand before, leading to various errors affecting her overall stability. Tali helped me create these systems once you hired her to the board. Along with your orders for areas to focus on, we've greatly improved productivity… At the cost of some _personal_ touches, yet these are within the captain's control now, as they should be. She is fully her own person."

"That's what I like to hear," commended the boss. "Thank you, Liara. Tali, what about you?"

Tali responded, "Thanks, Boss. Aside from the repairs you're aware of, I've started on my latest long-term project. I'm working on establishing a link from Insomnia to the geth consensus, and the _Normandy's_ AI blue box. I'm perfectly aware of your concerns with the size of the board, and of our crew. Legion and EDI ought to be here with us. These synthetic separations are the main barriers."

The boss agreed, "Yes, that sounds like an excellent solution to our current problem. I encourage you to continue on. Thank you, Tali. Please keep me updated with your progress. Kaidan, you're next."

"Thank you as well, Boss," said Kaidan. "I'm handling all security concerns as necessary. Though I'm also worried about our progress with the board. The captain's treating most new team members as hostiles. No way to establish a clear bond with them. Don't even get me started on Thane! It's a real nightmare."

"I've noticed the same. You'll just have to keep working on this. By my own estimations, certain members of the team should have their promotions to the board. Eventually, Jack and Samara will make enough progress with the captain. Other than Legion and EDI, I'm not confident about anyone else. But this is something we'll simply have to keep an eye on. Thank you, Kaidan. Garrus, any updates for us?"

"Thank you, Boss," replied Garrus. "Just keeping on with my usual duties. Insomnia remains a no-flight zone for the Reapers. We're still seeing success with disabling their weapons. They won't be able to touch the city at all, thanks to the captain's immunity to indoctrination. We've got them under control."

"Very good," declared the boss. "We're still seeing some troubling reports about Harbinger's presence somewhere within the city. I'm concerned Sovereign may have found its way here as well. If so, Shepard will want to interact with them during her visits. It shouldn't be a problem. Thank you, Garrus. Joker?"

Joker took his turn: "Thanks, Boss. The captain's instincts aboard the _Normandy_ are still pretty sharp. She hasn't been as paranoid—like, say, when she first joined up after Freedom's Progress. Whenever she feels like something's off, she takes the time to think things through. Just like always. I've been waiting for her to use those other surveillance cameras around the ship. You know, from EDI's special permissions. The captain hasn't touched them since she spied on you and Ash that night in your office."

"How curious… I expected her to perhaps start using them again. Especially now that she's treating certain team members as hostiles, like Thane. God knows the captain's capable of using those cameras for other things. Spying on the crew in their rooms. I remain intrigued that she's yet to even entertain the idea. Let's continue observing the situation. Thank you, Joker. Aria, have you anything to share?"

Setting her very visible grievances aside, Aria spoke freely, "Well, as you know, this is my first _official_ day on the job. I have plans to keep expanding Insomnia's land mass past the current city lines. I know you'd like for me to make more room. For all the people throughout the galaxy that the captain will make an impression upon. This collective unconscious the VP created will grow to rival anything else out there."

"I'm glad we see eye-to-eye on this," said the boss, smiling as much. "Continue matching my ambitions with Insomnia's size and scope. We need to rival any and all networks in existence. It's imperative that we keep the entire galaxy in our hands, so to speak. I won't settle for anything less. Thank you, Aria."

Turning to glance at the vid screen behind her, the boss knew the briefing was just moments away.

She wrapped up our current minutes: "As a brief update from me, not much has changed. I will continue monitoring and enhancing the captain's logic and instincts, per my own expected duties. This also includes her combat systems, such as the captain's special concentration and focus while sniping. I'll be working much more closely with Liara today, given the captain's lingering emotions from the previous night. As our VP is in charge of this emotional realm, I assume we'll both have our work cut out for us."

Right on time, everyone in the _Normandy's_ comm room fell silent.

Shepard and Aria entered the room together. Interestingly so, Shepard had allowed Aria inside first.

As ever, Shepard wore her stealth suit and combat boots. Professional in her stoic poise. And Aria wore her typical outfit from Omega. That confident sway of her hips, and her heeled footsteps held such power. Her heavy-duty shotgun stayed holstered behind her, riding that sway to the front of the room. Everyone stared at her.

Our board room went equally silent. The boss turned around in her chair; we all watched the briefing.

Legion shifted over somewhat, moving from its place near the head of the table. Making room. Without needing to say a word, Shepard directed Aria to take this place. Right next to her. Right across from Miranda, staring at Aria with a thinly-veiled suspicion and jealousy. Aria smirked back at her, unaffected for the sake of appearances. Appearing not to notice the conflict, Shepard took her place ahead of everyone. She actually allowed a few moments of levity, seeing the way Aria looked around the room at the team; seeing how the team all looked at Aria as well. Shepard saw nothing wrong with letting them interact.

Aria regarded Garrus in particular. _"Why hello there, Archangel. I see you're doing well for dead."_

Garrus' mandibles twitched in anxiety. _"…Aria. It's—good to see you, too. You…know who I am?"_

 _"Who you_ were, _yes,"_ she corrected. _"Garrus Vakarian. Savior of the Council, Shepard's old teammate; a former C-Sec officer. You caused quite the ruckus on Omega. I was never fooled by your little moniker."_

_"That makes sense. Sorry for all the trouble. Someone I spoke to—someone close to your thinking—said you wouldn't have any idea who I was. Remembering it now, I'm not exactly sure why I believed her."_

_"Oh, Garrus. You poor thing. Nyreen was never close to my thinking. She likes to pretend she is. Sadly, she's delusional. She duped you, plain and simple. Next time you stumble on a beautiful woman like her, make sure she's legit. Though I can't blame you for falling under her spell. I did the same once. But I'm sure you already knew that. Take it from me: you're much better off without her. You should move on."_

Accepting that wisdom, Garrus lowered his head in shame. He said nothing more.

Moving on indeed, Aria cast a glare at Zaeed this time.

 _"And_ you, _Massani. Don't think I didn't recognize you over there. Keep staring at my tits and see where it gets you. Your ex-girlfriend Tristana wouldn't want to hear about you lusting after_ me. _I hear she's still got a nasty temper. One you happen to be on the receiving end of. You don't want to make this worse."_

 _"Jesus Christ, Aria!"_ raged Zaeed. _"You throwing the book at me for peeking a glance at your rack?!"_

_"Hardly. I'm sending out a warning, room-wide. Because you're certainly not the only one staring."_

James unstuck the collar of his tight Alliance shirt from his chest.

Aria ignored him.

She recognized Mordin and Kasumi from Omega, as well, who offered her their unreturned smiles.

Everyone else, Aria knew by association or reputation. Especially Samara. Thane. Kaidan. Least of all Miranda herself. Aria smirked in intrigue over EDI, her synthetic body. She of course remembered Legion from Omega. And then she pondered over Jack's many tattoos. Wondering about the stories there.

Yet for some reason, Aria outright lingered over Tali. And Tali stared right back at her, rather confused.

This feeling pervaded—as if Aria had seen Tali's face before, behind her mask, and she couldn't quite remember when or where. Tali also seemed to have the same thought, as if she knew Aria from beyond the _Normandy's_ comm room. Upon this feeling, Kaidan and Garrus also felt the same sensation. The same thoughts crossed their minds, their stares. They all shared this understanding, quiet and unspoken.

I found it unusual that Miranda didn't share the same feeling. Or if she did, she simply kept it private.

Shepard took their silence as her cue to begin the briefing:

_"We're currently in Eden Prime's orbit. The Council's sent us here to deal with the Collectors. As a reminder, the colonists stumbled upon a Prothean artifact at one of their dig sites. The Collectors are trying to get their hands on it. Our objective is simple: drive the enemy away from the colony, and secure the artifact. All of the colonists have been evacuated from the dig site's location. Once we get the Collectors out of here and handle the artifact, the Alliance will come in after us and fortify the area._

_"After Horizon, I know many of you are nervous for this mission. Long story short, we were unprepared last time. We didn't have the right people for the job. I've gone out of my way to ensure we won't run into the same issues. You already know Aria T'Loak from Omega. She'll be our guest during these operations against the Collectors. We're relying on her to provide the raw firepower we lacked before. Along with our newest members of the team, I expect this operation to run—differently."_

Shepard's emphasis caught most of the team off-guard.

Even with their new recruits, she still expected chaos, plain and simple. A different sort of chaos.

_"The plan is to get in and hunker down at the dig site. The site itself isn't defensible, but the nearby houses are. We'll hold our location and fend off attacks from the enemy—until they retreat. To that end, we're splitting up into teams. Two teams will take shifts defending our location. When the main team needs a break, I'll cycle in the reserve team to take over. A separate, third team will handle more covert operations against the enemy, to help us stay informed on their numbers and what they're up to. Finally, I'll move around as needed, breaking enemy flanks from a distance. I'll keep the worst away from you._

_"Miranda, I want you as our leader for the first fire team. As soon as we touch down, your team is responsible for securing the dig site. The second team will move in after you and remain on standby. I'll give the orders to cycle your teams as needed. I'm counting on you to hold out for as long as possible."_

Miranda saluted her. _"Understood, Commander. I'll lead us to victory."_

_"Legion, Zaeed, Jack, and Mordin will be with Miranda on team one. Follow her orders. Mordin, hang back as our medic whenever necessary. Prioritize aiding the injured over heading into combat."_

_"Acknowledged,"_ said Legion.

Zaeed smirked in a bit of levity. _"Yeah, all right. Got it, Shepard."_

Jack grinned. _"Yep, hear you loud and clear."_

 _"Yes, of course,"_ replied Mordin. _"Necessary medical attention will supersede combat."_

Shepard continued, _"Kaidan, you're in charge of the second fire team. Garrus, Tali, Samara, and James will be with you. After we've secured the dig site, hang back in a defensible location. You'll switch places with Miranda's team on my orders. Tali, prioritize scavenging for Collector materials when you can."_

Kaidan gave a salute as well. _"Aye, aye, Ma'am! I won't let you down."_

 _"Roger that, Shepard,"_ said Garrus.

Tali replied, _"Okay, will do. I'll scavenge as many materials as I can."_

 _"Understood,"_ added Samara.

James acquiesced, _"Aye, aye, Commander."_

Shepard carried on, _"EDI, you're the leader for our third team. Your people will scout around, keeping track of the enemy's movements. Find any weak points in their ranks and exploit them. If they're in retreat, hit them harder, and make them think twice about coming back. The goal is to demoralize them; to lessen the burden on the two main teams at the dig site. I'm sending Kasumi and Thane with you."_

EDI also saluted her. _"I will do my best as team leader."_

 _"Got it, Shep,"_ said Kasumi.

 _"Yes, that is sound,"_ agreed Thane.

Frowning in confusion, Aria seemed baffled that Shepard had not assigned her to a team.

But it appeared our leader had other plans in mind for her.

 _"Shepard,"_ prompted Aria. _"Am I…missing something here?"_

 _"No, Aria,"_ said Shepard. _"You're coming with me. We're handling the worst enemy groups elsewhere."_

Miranda let out a low hum, at once amused and enlightened.

Everyone else appeared to understand Shepard's intentions by now.

Yet Aria still failed to comprehend:

_"Okay, and just how am I supposed to keep up with you? You're an infiltrator. I used to be a commando, not an asari huntress. Last time I checked—"_

Shepard set her hand over Aria's shoulder, that smooth white leather jacket. From their touch, so unexpected, even platonic, Aria barely steeled back her reaction. She shut her mouth, restricting the urge to question this, too. Even more so once Shepard activated her tactical cloak between them.

Glimmering invisibility enshrouded Shepard and Aria both, together.

Aria staggered back. Barely, just barely keeping her composure. More so when Shepard's cloak persisted past their physical touch and proximity. Her eyes went wide; she looked around, making certain this was real. By the team's smiling reactions—Miranda included—she had her answers. After all, Aria had read Miranda's report, which had also detailed this phenomenon. And so she knew exactly what this meant.

This stark silence about her spoke such volumes.

Deactivating their invisibility, Shepard reminded her, _"Aria, I need your acknowledgment. Focus up and follow me. All right?"_

Aria forced her focus, droning as monotone, _"Understood."_

_"Mordin, do you have those seeker swarm protections ready for her?"_

_"Yes!"_ said Mordin, going over to Aria's side. _"Here. Protections from Collector swarms. No immobilization. No capture. Though not sure of Collectors' interest in asari. Either way, will be safe."_

Aria eyed his omni-tool. _"I…appreciate it, Mordin."_

Shepard concluded the briefing: _"This is it, people. Get to the armory and suit up. Then we'll head down to the cargo hold and take the shuttle to the colony. It'll be cramped with all of us. We're taking two trips instead. Miranda's team will go first with Aria and me, then Kaidan and EDI's teams second. We'll be coming in hot, so be prepared. Let's move!"_

As the team exited the comm room, our team of executives made to leave the board room. We already knew: during the time it took the team to gear up, then touch down on the colony, we all needed to be at our posts. Doing our jobs to ensure the captain led everyone to a mission success. As we always did.

Before leaving, the boss requested of me: "Liara, after the mission is over, please meet me in my office. Since you'll be rejoining the captain in real life soon, there are a few things I'd like to go over with you."

"Of course, Boss," I replied. "I'll make my way to you once the team leaves Eden Prime."

"Wonderful. Thank you. We'll talk then."

* * *

Returning to the lab, I thought over my previous conversation with the captain. This matter of her many secrets, her mysteries. I considered the possibilities—of how deep this went. Wondering if she could have possibly obfuscated the information I received about her. Concealing the truth that way. Not quite _lying,_ yet not allowing herself to be entirely honest and open. She seemed to thrive off the separation.

Then again, I supposed I couldn't blame the captain for her secrecy.

As it was, I had no respect for her privacy. I never really did in the first place.

After all, this was the only way I could have her. The only way I could own her; lay any claim to her.

My sickening desperations continued to fuel this research into her mind. Even after all these years.

Back at my computer, I found the captain waiting for me. Out of respect for me, she stood up from her seat upon my arrival. Face heating, I thanked her, asking the captain to return to her seat. She did so, finding her quiet. Her focus. Leaning forward in her chair, she disappeared into a meditative state. In tandem, my agent resumed her own place nearby. Still standing with my blanket. Still watching over me.

Along the nearest wall, I turned on my larger vid screen. Watching as Eden Prime played out through Shepard's eyes, her perception. On my computer, I worked to modulate and manage everything for her.

Even so, I had to contain my own awe over the mission. Eden Prime:

Where the Prothean beacon had given Shepard the vision that warned us about the Reapers. And where Saren had launched his first major attack with the geth. And now with the Collectors here, Eden Prime's colonists were under attack again. The Collectors had hit Eden Prime hard. Whatever this Prothean artifact was, it was worth a major offensive. I hoped Shepard's team would recover it in-tact soon.

The usual idyllic peace of the colony's agrarian life—the Collectors had cut straight through, terrorizing the lands. One of their large cruisers had landed a fair distance away, sending out the near-endless forces across the colony, nearest the dig site. Much like on Horizon, the skies bled a crimson red, burning in pure insanity. Through those crimsons, several Collectors descended upon the land, their wings carrying them along. And they landed with their particle rifles drawn, light-gold biotics flaring.

The first team touched down on Eden Prime through the shuttle. Miranda led the charge, with Legion, Zaeed, Jack, and Mordin right behind her. They rushed toward the dig site, taking out any Collectors in their way. Already cloaked, Shepard and Aria exited the shuttle after them, following to the dig site.

Jack and Miranda worked together, detonating their biotic explosions to great effect, sending several Collector corpses flying. They made short work of the troopers nearest the dig site. Zaeed, Legion, and Mordin held the group's flanks, keeping any other hostiles from reaching the area. Shepard monitored the situation, instructing Aria to lay low for now and not expend her energy, as she would need it soon.

Yet I found myself growing distracted: noticing the sheer size of the dig site. Several pieces of Prothean technology stuck out from the ground, _like_ _an old bone_ according to Shepard's perception. I could just imagine Garrus teasing me about it, trying to make a joke about dinosaurs and paleontology. And me needing to correct him, reminding Garrus that I was an archaeologist—not a paleontologist—only to realize that he was merely joking. Though perhaps we wouldn't have had the freedom to joke around at a time like this. Not with so many hostiles around. Not with so much destruction left in the team's wake.

Raised above the dig site was a long platform, extending outward over the area. Just nearby were a series of abandoned homes—Kaidan's team hurried into the homes as their secure location, standing by for now. EDI's team rushed past the houses instead, en route to their first objective to sabotage the Collectors. Shepard and Aria made their way to this platform, finding an elevator that led down into the dig site. Still cloaked, Shepard activated the elevator controls, summoning the artifact up from below.

Rising up to their level, a stasis pod arrived. Closed and sealed off from the colony.

A stasis pod…with a Prothean inside.

 _"This can't be right,"_ said Shepard.

Aria wondered, _"What can't be right? You know what's in there?"_

_"It's not a Prothean artifact. It's…an actual Prothean. It's alive."_

_"…okay, you have a point. That doesn't sound possible."_

Shepard remembered me so much more, walking over to the pod. Scanning it with her omni-tool. _"We saw a bunch of these Prothean stasis chambers before. In the archives on Ilos. They tried to hide away during the Reaper invasion. The only reason their pods failed was a lack of power. But this one still has power. This Prothean's been in stasis for the past 50,000 years. Waiting for someone to find them…"_

Aria seemed a little hazy with her history lessons. _"Right, sure. Sounds fascinating. And just what do you know about these Protheans? You'll have to fill me in here. This isn't exactly my field of expertise."_

_"From what I know, the Prothean Empire spanned across the galaxy. They uplifted other species, like yours. Helped them join the galactic community. They seemed pretty similar to the ancient asari. Then again, I'm not too convinced they were the friendliest people around. If they had an empire, then they must've been ruthless. But maybe our Prothean expert would've disagreed with me on that."_

I smiled to myself, as I actually _did_ disagree with her. I had my own views, my own perceptions.

 _"They uplifted my species, hm?"_ pondered Aria. _"Interesting. These Protheans must be biotics, then."_

Shepard noticed a vague link between the Protheans and the Collectors. Yet she quickly dismissed it.

She continued with her omni-tool's scans. _"Someone damaged the lifepod when they excavated it. This Prothean's life signs aren't stable. If we try to open the pod now, it would kill whoever's inside. We have to find the command that ends the stasis mode first. Then we'll have to actually open the pod without causing any more damage. It won't be a simple, straightforward thing. We should take a look around."_

Aria pointed to the labs nearby, currently swarmed by Collector troops. _"The colonists probably kept their research in there. They might've left something useful behind. Something we can use for the pod."_

_"Good idea. Let's head over now."_

_"Sure. And what about all the Collectors in our way? You plan on making us just sneak past them?"_

Shepard made the assessment: _"Those troops will be over here soon. Swarming our people instead. I want you to help me take them out. We'll take the load off while our teams defend the stasis pod."_

Aria paused.

The sheer amount of Collectors in their path was nothing to scoff at.

_"What's the plan with this? I run in, get shot at, blow everything up—while you snipe on your own?"_

Shepard briefly uncloaked them.

_"Yes, Aria. That's what I need from you."_

Staring into Shepard's eyes like this, unfiltered, Aria found her reasons. That fire from our leader inspired her own. Flames building, burning. Blazing through Aria's stare; reflecting the vitality from Shepard herself, her authority. Vigor, vivacity and all. Those fires stimulated Aria's resolve. Her competitive spirit, vying for Shepard's affections in this way. Strengthening her will to follow our commander's orders. Being the best for her. Proving herself to someone else—for once in her life.

Drawing her shotgun, biotics at-the-ready, Aria complied once more:

_"Understood, Commander."_

Shepard had only to gesture toward the chaos awaiting them.

Aria charged ahead.

Primary biotic hand drawn, her shotgun in the other, she raged forward. Releasing her Reaves for the extra damage protection, she gained her invincibility, violet effects swirling around her. Firing off her Flares, she set off detonation after detonation. Rising explosions of violet hues, biotics misting in the aftermath; liquidating every Collector across a wide radius, leaving no trace of them behind. Collector troopers, captains; abominations, normal and not, the possessed ones exploding upon death. Fighting freely _with_ her emotions, Aria held nothing back. Her biotics shouted to the skies of her frustrations.

Frustrations, shackling, limitations.

She broke past them all in these frenzied moments, ripping those chains apart.

Shepard stayed behind her, cloaked once again. Sniping at any enemies who could've come close to breaking Aria's flank. Watching that rage blow out before her; following Aria through to the labs; protecting at a distance. In the meantime, she spoke to the others via radio, catching them up to speed:

_"Everyone, we're making progress with the artifact. Aria and I are heading to the labs. We're looking for the stasis deactivation signal. Keep protecting the dig site. Miranda, I want your team to switch places with Kaidan now. Head inside the buildings and stand by."_

_"Affirmative,"_ replied Miranda. _"Switching now. We expected to be overwhelmed, Commander. Our team still has enough energy to continue on. But we'll move inside and catch our breath."_

 _"Roger,"_ said Kaidan. _"Heading over to Miranda's team. We're good to go. Definitely agree on expecting a bigger ambush. We should be okay to hold out for quite a while. I'm surprised we're doing this well."_

Shepard informed them, _"Aria's taking care of your flank by the labs. I'm assisting her."_

James laughed with his nerves. _"Yeah, we noticed! She's lighting up the whole colony back there!"_

EDI chimed in, _"Our team is currently harassing their retreating troops. The unrelenting force of Aria's assault appears beyond the Collectors' initial calculations. At this rate, they are unable to fight back."_

Miranda seemed rather astounded. _"Oh… I see her now. Well, no wonder."_

Kaidan let Shepard know, _"Commander, that gives me an idea. I'll send Samara to do the same across the way. We can hold the dig site just fine."_

 _"Sounds good,"_ answered Shepard. _"Samara, you up for the job?"_

 _"Of course, Commander,"_ said Samara. _"I will follow Kaidan's orders and intercept the Collectors closer to their ship. Shall I switch places with Jack once it is time?"_

_"That's fine. Jack, get some rest for now. You'll be up once your team's back in action."_

_"I hear ya, Shepard,"_ accepted Jack. _"I'll be ready to go, no problem."_

_"Good. I'll check in with all of you later. Shepard out."_

Having pushed indoors to the lab, Shepard stayed behind Aria, her wake of destruction. Bursts of Flare explosions seared through the abandoned buildings. Collector troops caught in the collateral blasts flew across the space. Corpses sagging over desks, beds, lab equipment. The loudness from the explosions reverberated through the area. And that loudness discouraged Shepard from sniping any further, especially in these close quarters. She merely followed after Aria as they reached another location, deeper within this section of the labs. Arriving to a smaller room, they found a large computer console along the wall.

Shepard sealed the door behind them, saying, _"Looks like this is the place."_

Aria breathed harder. Forcing herself to remain standing. _"So it would seem."_

Knowing all was not well, Shepard ordered, _"Aria, have a seat. I'll see what's on this console."_

 _"I'm fine, Shepard,"_ insisted Aria, prideful. _"Do what you need to do."_

Unconvinced, Shepard went over to her. She procured a familiar-looking canteen she'd had secured along the waist of her stealth suit. Removing the top, Shepard handed the canteen to Aria directly.

_"Sit down and drink this. No one else is here. It's not like I'm going to tell the team you needed to rest."_

Wary, Aria accepted the canteen.

She brought it to her nose. Smelling the contents, the fruit juice. For replenishing her biotic reserves.

Shepard had packed this specifically for her. She would've had no reason to have the juice otherwise.

Just as the commander had done for me when we'd met on Therum that day…

Realizing the extent of Shepard's kindness for her, Aria sat down over the floor. She drank her juice in silence. She never once moved her eyes from Shepard, who had begun typing at the console now.

Yet for some reason, I couldn't make sense of whatever Shepard saw. At least—not completely.

All around us, the captain's Cipher kicked in. Her Cipher from the Protheans, separate from my own, as this indirect exposure to Prothean technology. Her allowances helped me understand just enough of what I saw:

Vague images reached me, of the Reapers attacking a location—perhaps Eden Prime in the past. Those colossal capital-class ships touching down on the planet's surface. The stubbornness of their laser beams firing down below, ravaging the lands and the people there. Shepard's Cipher worked overtime to compensate for this strangeness, translating the remaining images for me. A Prothean green surrounded these visions, transporting my perception to what looked like a bunker. A secure bunker, ideally for housing several stasis pods at once. Other _people_ walked freely throughout this bunker, armored in stylized red; the shapes of their heads, their forms sharing a distinct resemblance to the Collectors…

Were these people—actual _Protheans?_

 _"I never thought our empire would fall,"_ lamented a civilian.

 _"It won't,"_ insisted the soldier with them. _"We will sleep here until the Reapers return to dark space. Then we will rise, a million strong."_

_"For the Empire."_

_"For the Empire. Get to your stasis pod."_

As the civilian departed, the soldier carried on his duties, speaking with a VI program at his side:

_"Victory, broadcast the stasis readiness signal to all lifepods."_

The VI questioned, _"And the refugees who have yet to reach the bunker?"_

Regretful, the soldier replied, _"Their sacrifice will be honored in the coming empire."_

A sudden blast sounded from the bunker's entrance. Several Collectors sprinted through the opening they created. Mirroring them, _still,_ the soldier readied his own particle rifle. Defending his people to the last from the Collectors. From these…husks of the Protheans. Warped and twisted by the Reapers.

Shepard found what she needed. _"I have the signal."_

Standing anew, Aria asked her, _"You understood that?"_

_"You didn't?"_

_"Not at all. I only saw static on the screen. Was this from that…Cipher you found, way back when?"_

_"Yes,"_ said Shepard. _"It lets me see these images as a Prothean would. I can understand their language."_

Aria shrugged. _"Well, if you have the signal, I suppose I can't complain. How do we open the pod, then?"_

_"Let's keep looking through the labs. I'm sure we'll find something else. Take point. I'll follow you."_

_"All right."_

Much like before, Aria pressed onward. Shepard stayed behind her.

They dealt with the Collectors in their way, tag-teaming in this unorthodox manner. Aria blasted through anything in her path; Shepard sniped down anything past her periphery. Despite the growing threat from the Collectors, nothing seemed to faze them. Even Harbinger possessing those troops— _"ASSUMING DIRECT CONTROL"_ —did little to thwart Aria and Shepard's progress together. Moreover, Shepard found her own, stronger focus, as soothed as she was. Soothed by the sounds of Aria's biotics.

This soothing. A reaction I hadn't detected from her in a long while. Not since Freedom's Progress.

Still keeping an eye on Shepard and Aria, I logged this development, the importance of this change.

I also took more notes on this other troubling news, about the Protheans' fate in turning into Collector husks.

Soon the pair reached another enclosed lab space, another computer console.

Shepard didn't need to repeat herself: Aria accepted her canteen, sitting down to drink the juice.

Once again, Shepard accessed the computer, witnessing the calamitous memories within:

Outside, the Protheans fell to the Reapers, collapsing beneath those gargantuan forms of power.

Inside, within the bunker, that same soldier fought to keep the Collectors at bay. Firing his particle rifle, those green beams melted the Collectors before him. Yet his allies quickly fell around him. The soldier activated his green biotics, throwing those husks about. Blasting them back. But they kept coming.

The soldier retreated, ordering, _"Victory, seal the bulkheads!"_

 _"Acknowledged,"_ said the VI.

Pulling his fallen allies along, the soldier made it behind the closing doors. Yet he quickly realized the extent of the destruction around him. Fires blazed on elsewhere, burning away the other stasis pods.

_"How many have we lost?"_

_"Reaper forces have destroyed approximately 300,000 lifepods."_

Kneeling down to open another lifepod, the soldier grimly noted, _"A third of our people."_

And the Prothean within this pod was no more.

The VI issued a warning: _"Alert! North-side bulkhead cannot be sealed. Hostiles detected."_

_"Then all forces to the north!"_

The soldier and his remaining comrades hurried off, determined to secure the area.

When the memory ended, Shepard once again spotted Aria beside her.

_"You understood that one, too?"_

_"Yes. I have what we need to open the pod. Let's get back to the dig site."_

Miranda reached them via radio: _"Commander…something strange is happening. The Collectors are in full retreat. Their ship is leaving the colony."_

_"What? Already?"_

Shepard and Aria hurried back outside.

Staring up to the clouds, they found the truth of Miranda's words. Thrusters lighting up, firing—the Collector cruiser took off, leaving Eden Prime. Premature, the Collectors had either retreated to the ship, or fallen elsewhere across the colony. The emergency-red bleeding through the skies dissipated; the cloudy blue day returned, as if it had never left in the first place.

Miranda speculated: _"This can't bode well for our next encounter. The Collectors will remember this. Perhaps they underestimated us this time. We made them pay. They won't make the same mistake twice. But I can confirm that all hostiles have left the colony. The dig site and stasis pod are secure."_

 _"Understood,"_ replied Shepard. _"Aria and I are on our way back. Stay there and wait for us."_

_"Of course. We'll see you soon."_

Ending the call, Shepard noticed Aria, this state about her. Deflated. Or maybe—

 _"You seem disappointed,"_ observed Shepard.

Aria stared out to the faraway mountains, claiming, _"I was just starting to enjoy myself, that's all."_

 _"That's not the only reason. Is it?"_ When Aria wouldn't respond, Shepard glossed over the issue— _"In any case, you scared off the Collectors. Just as I wanted. You've proven yourself to me. That's what matters."_

_"And yet you're surprised it happened this quickly."_

The romantic suggestiveness of Aria's tone forced Shepard's silence.

Aria smiled in satisfaction anyway.

_"You and I will talk more on this soon, Shepard. For now, we shouldn't keep your people waiting."_

Conflicting energies ricocheting between them, Aria and Shepard returned to the dig site.

They found everyone waiting for them, as ordered, congregating around the stasis pod. EDI, Kasumi, and Thane stayed nearest to one another, as did Kaidan, James, Samara, and Garrus. Jack and Zaeed exchanged conversation, getting along together just fine again. Legion had its focus set on Aria, observing more, given her proven success on this day. Miranda and Tali both cast a curious glance in Shepard's direction, wondering as to her well-being. Approaching the lifepod, Shepard nodded to them as reassurance. Reassured indeed, Miranda lightened her gaze. Satisfied, Tali returned her nod. The team watched as the commander interacted with the pod, using her omni-tool to unseal it at last.

 _"I forgot to mention,"_ said Shepard, as the team tried to observe who was inside. _"This is a Prothean. The Collectors are their husks. Created by the Reapers."_

Kaidan sputtered, _"Seriously, Commander?! The Collectors used to be Protheans!? And there's a real Prothean in this pod in front of us?"_

Tali gasped in emotion, setting her hands over the mouth-light of her helmet. She remembered me.

Garrus stared down at the Prothean, the fumes misting out from the pod. He remembered me as well.

Miranda did the same. _Everyone_ did—even the members of the team I technically hadn't met yet.

And I smiled over their remembrance. As bittersweet as it was…

Even more bittersweet, Miranda spoke my next thoughts: _"It may take him some time to fully regain consciousness… Once he's alert, be prepared for his reaction. Whatever it might be."_

Speaking that truth into existence, the Prothean opened his eyes, then went into a panic. Fighting instincts still in-tact, the green of his biotics glowed over his form. He sent out a minor shockwave, knocking back almost everyone around him. Shepard staggered back into Aria behind her, holding their ground. Miranda stayed rooted to the spot on her own. Limbs shaking and unsteady, the Prothean forced his way out from the pod. Trying to stand anew, he quickly fell to his knees. Confused, he looked around, jogging off a short distance. He fell again, and stood up again, before finally taking in the sights everywhere. How different this all looked compared to his last memories, to the Protheans' final days.

After helping Tali to her feet, Miranda approached the Prothean, the soldier.

She spoke for me again— _"Remember, it's been 50,000 years for us. But for him, it's only been…"_

Vengeful, the soldier turned around. Intent on _communicating_ something or another, he brought his hands to Miranda's shoulder. Learning her through touch. Learning about far more than Miranda's mere physical qualities. As he found his understanding, he calmed down. Returning his hands to himself.

Miranda stared at him in awe. _"…a few minutes."_

Reserved, the soldier asked, _"How many others?"_

Shepard approached them. _"Just you."_

The Prothean mourned over this troubling information, though he did not seem surprised.

_"You can understand me?"_

_"Yes,"_ replied the Prothean. _"Now that I have read your teammate's physiology, her nervous system. Enough to understand your language. Enough to understand who you are, what you are. All of you."_

Shepard surmised, _"So you read me, too, while I saw those visions."_

_"Our last moments. Our failure."_

_"Your people did everything they could. They never gave up. And I could use some of that commitment."_

The Prothean turned to look at everyone around, at Shepard's entire team.

 _"Asari. Human,"_ he grunted in prejudice, sneering at Miranda in particular. _"Quarian. Turian. Drell. Salarian. Synthetics. I am surrounded by primitives."_

Protectiveness flaring, Shepard glared at him. _"What did you call her?"_

_"A primitive, Commander. That is what she is. That is what you are. It matters not at all that your race is among the dominant ones in this cycle. The Prothean Empire eclipsed the humans in their infancy."_

Shepard disagreed, ordering, _"Don't call Miranda that. Or me."_

Standoffish, the soldier sneered more. _"And what will happen if I continue?"_

_"Fuck around and find out."_

Completely stunned and disarmed, the Prothean merely gave her a blank look.

Jack cracked up laughing. Miranda covered her hand with her mouth, attempting _not_ to laugh. Aria hummed in amusement, impressed. Tali sighed in a contented way, not surprised by Shepard's reaction.

Shepard continued, _"Now if you're done insulting my team, I'm happy to move on. We're fighting against those husks you saw before. The Collectors. The Reapers are on their way—and we'll destroy them once they get here. We could use you on our team. Unless you'd rather stay here with no way out."_

The Prothean noted in grim defeat, _"I suppose I have no choice but to join you, Commander."_

_"Yeah, I suppose you don't. We'll talk more on my ship."_

Tali reminisced, _"It's a shame Liara couldn't be here. I know she'd be excited to meet a live Prothean."_

 _"Too true,"_ lamented Kaidan. _"Wish I could've seen the look on her face. Liara would've had a thousand questions for the guy, I bet."_

Garrus agreed— _"I can see it now. Firing off dozens of questions before he's even aboard. It's too bad…"_

Surprisingly pleasant, Aria recalled: _"Little Liara? Benezia's girl. My daughter was quite fond of her. Liselle would find the resident scientist somewhere on Thessia. Usually with her nose stuck in a textbook about the Protheans. They seemed to be agreeable acquaintances, at least. I'm sorry for your loss."_

Yes, now that I thought of it, I did remember Aria's daughter, Liselle. An asari commando back home. She was one of the few people outside my network of colleagues who'd never judged me for my work.

James joked around, _"Hey, Aria, I'm surprised you're being so nice. Never thought I'd hear those kinda condolences from_ you _of all people. I guess if your daughter knew Liara, then that's different."_

Scowling at him, Aria bit back, _"Would you rather I be a bitch about this instead?"_

_"Well, no…"_

Shepard wrapped things up, _"All right, let's get back to the shuttle. We'll head to Palaven after we give our new Prothean teammate some time to settle in. Garrus has some business to take care of on his homeworld. Everyone else can treat the trip as some more shore leave."_

 _"Appreciate it, Shepard,"_ replied Garrus. _"I'll have everything I need not long after we touch down."_

Kaidan smiled at Aria. _"Thanks for all your help today. You made sure we didn't have another crazy repeat of Horizon. Really appreciate it. You're a hell of a fighter. Looking forward to next time."_

Aloof, Aria merely folded her arms. She offered Kaidan a vague acknowledgment and nothing more.

While everyone returned to the _Normandy,_ Shepard offered to walk Aria back to her ship.

Together they headed over to where Aria's vessel had landed.

But first, they took this time to speak alone. Debriefing in their own way.

 _"Well, I guess this is it,"_ settled Aria. _"I won't see you again until your next mission with the Collectors. Even though I was exhausted, I actually_ did _enjoy myself. I expected you to lump me in with your teammates. Make me_ get along _with them. But you didn't. I never thought I'd enjoy having a partner."_

Shepard declared, _"I play everyone on my team to their strengths. Sending you with a group would've limited your potential. I knew you'd be stronger this way. We'll try to keep this setup from now on. I just can't make any promises. We have to adapt to whatever the Collectors send at us next time. As always."_

_"Mmm, I'm sure. I trust you to do what's necessary. And you can trust me to follow your orders. Whether I like them or not. I've learned with you that my wants and preferences don't quite matter. Not entirely."_

_"What do you mean by that?"_

_"You know exactly what I mean, Shepard. Don't play coy with me."_

There was nothing Shepard could say to that. Thus she kept her stoic silence.

Aria reached out to touch that stoicism. Stroking the smoothness of Shepard's face. Her striking beauty.

 _"I'm still surprised, you know,"_ she murmured. _"From earlier. You used your tactical cloak with me. In front of everyone. They all know what it means. Your girlfriend knows. Why would you be that open?"_

_"For the mission's sake, it makes sense for my team to know this. Tactical reasons. Strategies."_

_"And does this phenomenon only work with me for_ strategic reasons? _If that were the case, you could use it with anyone. Whoever. Whenever. That isn't the case. So tell me what this really means, Shepard."_

Once again, Shepard couldn't give her a real answer.

Charmed anyway, Aria let out a low laugh. She continued studying the stoicism before her. Wondering about it. Wanting it. Needing it—and so much more. Yet she restrained herself for the obvious reasons.

The same height, the two of them—Aria leaned forward to Shepard's ear, level with her. Breathing there. Listening to the sounds of Shepard's normal breathing. Pressing her hand to Shepard's shoulder, her other hand to Shepard's chest. Pressing her weight into the commander's professionalism, her stout stature. She smelled Shepard like this: her hair, her neck holding those vestiges of sweat from the mission. That shape about Aria, this violet of her: the sharp, attractive markings of her face edged these angles between them, their bodies. The white and red of her leather jacket, the dark of her personal logo over her back, branding her bravado, her ego there. And the black of her leather below, rounded over her hips, her curves, blending with Shepard's stealth suit. They hid in this shadowed camouflage.

Shepard gave Aria this allowance as a reward for the mission.

Aria inflicted this pain on herself, also as her reward. Taking her reward. Giving her own reward.

She whispered in Shepard's ear, the usual calculating menace of her voice softened for this. Just for this:

_"I'm gonna let you in on a little secret. I planned on making my move on you. If not today, then it would've happened at some point. Eventually. I don't really care about your girlfriend. That's certainly no secret of mine. Still, she was instrumental enough to send me that report. She waited until recently. And now I'm shackled. I can't make my move. In case you're wondering, this absolutely isn't it. I had more planned for us. So much more. The little show you put on with your tactical cloak… It makes this harder."_

_"Why are you telling me this, Aria?"_

_"Because you deserve to know. From now on, you're my partner in this special way. Even if you aren't completely mine, I'll take what I can get. You should know how territorial I am. This still applies to us."_

Shepard had more questions. More confusions. Yet she held these back, seeing no point in voicing them.

Out of her own sense of care, unspoken, Shepard at least embraced Aria in her arms.

Up above, Aria canted her eyes to the skies. Leaning against Shepard like this, held by her in this way, she found the commander's reflections within the day's blue. Aria pressed her face to Shepard's warmth, staring up behind her: the Alliance ships landing on Eden Prime. The marines there who would soon continue securing the colony, helping any civilians in-need. Returning life to normal for everyone.

This reminder of normalcy excavated the usual attitude from Aria's gaze.

This mirage of normalcy, with Shepard holding her close, drained more of her anger away.

Another type of normalcy found her eyes. Just this simple blue of her irises. A hardened purity there.

Knowing their time was up, Aria was slow to move. Moving her lips to Shepard's face. The corner of her mouth. Settling her lips there; finding this minor taste. Savoring this half-kiss as much as she could.

Subtly adoring, Aria laced her intentions through her words— _"I'm heading back to Omega now. Give me a call once you have the next mission lined up. Until then, you'll be on my mind. I'll see you around, babe."_

She then removed herself from Shepard's arms, her embrace. Shepard's care, her security.

Scowling once more—facing the realities of her life—Aria boarded her ship without looking back.

Shepard watched as the vessel departed the colony. Leaving Eden Prime behind. Leaving her behind.

Here in the lab, with me, the captain stood up from her seat. She left without a word, looking rather baffled. Confused. I let her wander off as she needed to. Right as Shepard returned to the _Normandy._

I turned off my vid screen, leaving the lab for the boss' office as promised.

I only had one stop to make along the way.

My agent followed me, knowing what I had planned.

* * *

Still on the 60th floor, I passed through this specific hallway. This series of rooms. All filled with the captain's unconscious thoughts and desires. The same rooms Shepard and Miranda had explored on their own that night. The contents of these rooms continued to change by the day. The interiors shifted around with the captain, with her preoccupations, with her own changes. Even I could never know the full extent of what waited behind these doors. Yet there was one room that forever remained the same.

The captain's old cabin on the SR-1. The original _Normandy._ This deep indigo blue reminded me of her.

Untouched from the last time she was here, her quarters appeared as they were before. Right before the Collector attack. Right before our argument with one another. And our subsequent forgiveness.

I retrieved that blue blanket from my agent.

Setting this down over the couch, I remembered our time here. How short it was. Bittersweet, again.

Taking this moment, I sat next to this memento. This memory of me. Folded at these perfect angles. Delicate. I reflected on just how much had changed with the captain, since she was last here. How so many possibilities had now closed themselves off. Locked away from me, from us both. The captain could defy existence itself and bring me back with her, through Insomnia. And yet there was nothing I could do to change our fate. Feeling the obvious presence of another, of the captain's bond with her, I began to understand far more. More of why things hadn't worked out between the two of us. More of why the captain's destiny had forever kept her on this path. This path away from me; toward another.

I had resolved to serve my captain regardless. Regardless of my own feelings. My own regrets. My own sorrows in knowing so much of her, all for seemingly no personal gain to me. My wants couldn't matter anymore. Exactly as Aria had said, her intentions. And how strange it felt to share in this misery with her.

Marking the occasion, I searched through the captain's storage drawers.

Searching for an item I had meant to find a long time ago. Only now was it safe to take away for myself.

I located this other blanket. This symbolic opposite of my blue one. _The red one._ From that lesser tool.

Taking the blanket in my arms, I gripped at it. I kept gripping as I left the captain's old room. I gripped it more, returning to these hallways, these many rooms. Rooms mostly emptied of any remnants of _her._

Past the halls, I found the appropriate chute I needed.

I threw this red blanket into the chute, sending this wretched thing down to the building incinerator.

Satisfied enough with that, I made my way to the boss' office.

I found these stairs, leading upward. The central aquarium as the focal point of the steps. Winding up to that large space—the same space where we'd held the last company party. Our celebration together, welcoming our current boss in an official capacity. Raised high over these views, Insomnia's sunny skyline shined over me. That brightness watched as I reached the central controls. These strange controls, appearing just like any console on any ship. I couldn't imagine that Insomnia itself was a ship of its own. Unless this was all a giant allegory for the captain's sense of control. Controlling herself.

Yet something told me there was far more to this mechanism. I could only hope I would learn someday.

Using my executive keycard over the console, the platform beneath me raised upward.

Up to this partial dark of another open area, shining in chromes. Lit only by the faint lights from the computer consoles around. Each computer filled with logs. Video logs. Audio logs. Logs and logs of the boss herself, her time as a Cerberus employee. Logs of her conversations with the Illusive Man. Only Cerberus logos remained over these walls. The same logos greeted me along the door, taking me to the next area. This partial hallway, pitch black in appearance. Hidden security systems from the captain, verifying that I was indeed allowed to be here. Verifying her trust in me; our shared trust as genuine.

Through this darkened tunnel of a hall, I arrived at a raised walkway. Shining in pure black, styled and intimidating, the minimalist overhead lights aided this sheen. I crossed the sheen, up this ramp, with such long, unending drops threatening at either side. Ignoring those depths, I continued walking upward. Raising up to this importance.

To the President of Insomnia herself, her domain. Her office. Guarded by two Alliance marine sentries.

The sentries allowed me entry.

This final door opened to the landscape beyond:

Pure black floors shining more, reflective. Reflecting the gentle twinkling of the surrounding stars. The stars surrounding this office, the open view out to space. That space of this spectacular sight: of the bright, blazing sun from the Sol System. And it should have been difficult—if not impossible—to stare straight into this light from so close. Yet the windows had ample protections from those realities.

In-line with those protections, the boss' office held a number of other essentials. Aid during emergencies: access to life support and escape pods. Along with those other crucial, mysterious systems only the boss knew of. Only the President's keycard could reach the systems in any way. No one else's.

Waiting for me was the President herself. The boss herself. Sitting in her lone chair. Facing me directly.

Blazing of the Sol System's might behind her, the boss smiled upon seeing me. She had her long legs crossed, black leather shining faintly from the sun's light. Her heeled boots sloped down, curved in a sexy confidence. Raising a wine glass to her smile, the boss sipped her red delight. Pinot Noir as always.

All those systems showed themselves only as minimalist monitors just behind her. Nearly holographic.

Miranda's likeness did not stand up for me.

I approached her directly. Not too close. Just as she expected me to do.

"Hello again, Boss," I greeted, bowing my head, slight. "You wished to see me."

"Hello to you as well, Liara," she replied in-kind. "Thank you for meeting with me. Please, sit."

The boss pressed a button on the armrest of her chair.

Over the floor where, perhaps, a QEC platform would have been—another chair raised up to meet me.

I took my seat, identical to hers. Directly across. My front lit by the light at her back.

The boss praised me: "You did an excellent job handling Eden Prime. The mission was a success. Shepard's made her way safely back to the ship. Debriefing with the team. Due to security concerns, the _Normandy's_ marine detachment has the Prothean in partial custody. Standard protocol for first contact with a new species. Shepard will speak with the Prothean when she's ready. I'm sure their talk will be intriguing."

"Yes, I'm sure," I agreed. "Do you think you'll be there with her?"

"I'd like to be in the room, certainly. Hopefully Shepard will bring me along. It's you who should be there, really. Not me. You once dedicated your life to studying the Protheans. This must be bittersweet."

"It is… Though of course, I will see everyone soon. This Prothean included. I'm looking forward to it."

The boss teased, "You're looking forward to seeing _everyone?_ Are you sure about that, Liara?"

I caught her meaning—"Now that you mention this, I was surprised earlier. During the board meeting. How swiftly you shut Aria down when she tried to disobey you. Your threats were oddly effective."

"Mmm, there's nothing _odd_ about it at all," she revealed, highly amused. "You must know the truth."

"I only know what I can see, Boss. And I don't believe our newest executive will accept your authority."

"We're not on Omega. That One Rule of hers— _'Don't fuck with Aria'_ —simply doesn't apply here. Not in Insomnia. Not under my domain. Not for as long as I am Shepard's queen and property both. Aria will just have to deal with it. And if she tries anything again, I have no problems humiliating her once more."

"You aren't worried about Aria at all? With the captain, I mean. You and I both saw Aria's interactions with her on the colony. After the mission. Do you feel this will turn into a problem?"

Indifferent, the boss said, "Not remotely. Though I'll keep an eye on her regardless. It wouldn't hurt."

"Understood, Boss."

"So, about your return," she segued. "Or rather, your upcoming trip back home, to the living. Once you're there, you'll be able to return to Insomnia during your sleep. Will you have any issues managing your expected duties here with us? Because I couldn't dream of replacing you. You're invaluable to me."

"I will carry out my duties just fine. You won't need to replace me. Please, don't worry yourself over it."

"That's a relief," accepted the boss, with a smile. "Then I hope you'll forgive me for asking. Asking the obvious. If your return will be a problem in any other ways. I'm certain you already know what I mean."

"Miranda," I stressed, earning her welcome surprise. "We will not have any repeats of the past. You and I got along just fine before. During that single day of our meeting. And even afterward, whenever I would come here to monitor your dreams. I have every expectation that our friendship will continue."

"Then I need your continued reassurance, Liara. Please don't tempt Shepard into an affair… I'm asking you—woman to woman—to not go behind my back with this. I'm trusting you to stay true to me."

"And I won't break your trust. The captain's well-being is my top priority. As is yours. Not my personal wishes. It is far too late for any of that. I've since learned to accept it. You can breathe easy about this."

The boss smiled again. "Good instincts." Taking this pause, she took a long, thoughtful sip of her wine. "Well, the wait shouldn't be much longer now. Shepard will finish assisting Garrus with his personal mission sometime soon. Then she'll re-enter Insomnia. I hope you're prepared for this. Emotionally."

"Yes, of course," I replied. "I will continue preparing for the inevitable."

"I'm glad to hear it. Though I'll miss having you with us more often. You're my Vice President. You are my eyes and ears within Insomnia. And perhaps my only friend in this dark galaxy. Forever and always."

I returned her persistent smile, glad to share in this bond of our own.

The boss sat back in her chair, sounding satisfied:

"You are the throne, after all. This throne Shepard has given me. Steadiness and reliability are part of the job. As ever, you're up to the task. You are what I could have been, and vice-versa. Shepard will need both of us throughout this long journey. We'll land this ship safely, Liara. You and I with her, together. With the team. With everyone. Our bonds together, however obscured at times, will see us through."

 _Miranda_ seemed to reach me more in this moment. As herself. Not the boss, that simulacrum of her.

Staring back at me as a mirror, Miranda represented so much of who I was. Who I had wished to be.

Who I'd tried and failed to be.

Living in that world of flames and chaos; climbing and fighting my way to some sort of growth. Change. Miranda's ruthlessness, I had aspired to earn. Miranda's cunning, skill, and darkness were all traits that I had once admired to learn. And yet that wasn't me. I had branded myself as the one who got away.

I had nearly lost myself in my love for our captain. Fighting for her in the only way I knew how.

All to fail in the end. Reset to this new place. This thought-place. Thinking and seeing this as real.

Still, here I was.

Risking my life all over again by waiting for her.

Waiting to see her again.

Waiting to live with her again—as lonely and alone as I was—as this throne for another woman's glory.


	49. Life Support

_"Crystalline Chill" from Final Fantasy XV_

**XLIX.** Life Support

_(Miranda)_

Relaxing, winding down.

Putting the controlled-madness of Eden Prime behind me. Behind us all.

This next day after the mission felt appropriately lax, lenient. I certainly enjoyed the relaxation compared to the chaos of the battlefield. Especially after such an unexpected, if not easy victory against the Collectors this time. Working in my office, I typed away at my desk, finishing up the operation report from yesterday's mission. Everyone else had more or less returned to their duties as well, at least for the time being. I'd heard word that the team planned on spending some time together later on in the day. And they somehow expected me to join them. For some reason, I felt compelled to do so. Not out of a sense of obligation. Just from the sheer importance of our bonds together, as teammates. If not friends.

But before that planned gathering, Shepard and I would speak to the Prothean we'd just met. As the _Normandy's_ marine officer, Kaidan currently had our detachment keeping watch over our newest teammate. Standard protocol for first contact with a brand new species. They would dissolve on the captain's command, once Shepard brought me along to speak with this Prothean friend of ours.

I only wanted to finish this report before she came to pick me up. Then we would set off together.

For now, I marveled over these details of my report. Despite her diminished combat role, having provided mostly support yesterday, Shepard's capabilities appeared as sharp as ever. Perfect accuracy. Excellent ballistics on her Widow sniper rifle. She seemed at-one with her weapon, as always. Moreover, I found myself extremely impressed with our guest. Aria's finesse on the battlefield had been nothing short of remarkable. I did take note of Shepard's personal observations, of Aria having tired herself out at a couple of points. Yet this hadn't been enough to deter her. It was clear Aria's attempts at vying for Shepard's affections had accelerated her capabilities. Those gigantic Flare explosions of hers had gone off with a force unheard of. So I wanted to see more from Aria as the mission progressed. Much more.

Right on time, the door to my office opened. And in walked Shepard, looking as fine as ever. More so due to these unexpected changes about her. Not in her usual Alliance fatigues—she instead wore her formal Alliance officer's uniform. Eyes locked to mine, she came over to my side. Watching me stare up at her. Taking in this soft surprise about me: from her stature, her sweetness mixed with seriousness.

Leaning down to me, Shepard's long hair shifted with her movements. Her confident movements.

"Hey, babe."

Instinctive, I tilted my head toward her, upward. Granting Shepard better access to kiss this side of my face, reddened and heated enough from her affections. Again, this sweet and serious blend of hers, I felt sugared over my skin from her taste. She had my curiosity piqued. Infinitely so.

"Shepard, darling," I replied, smiling just as much. "There you are. Thank you for coming to find me."

"Mm-hmm. You done with your report?"

"I am, yes. You're free to look it over whenever you'd like."

Shepard offered her hand, helping me stand up from my desk. With this momentum of mine, I stayed close to her. Touching her face, studying her. These changes about her. This focused fire in her eyes.

I wondered, "So what inspired your change of wardrobe? You haven't worn this in a long time."

"I'm not really sure," admitted Shepard. "Just thought I'd try it on. I forgot how much I liked it before."

"Well, I think it suits you. You're even more dashing with this on. Perhaps you could make it a habit."

"I will—if that's what you want."

"Yes, that _is_ what I want," I emphasized, still studying her. "You also seem improved today. Fortified. Fully-repaired from your troubles before. Are you feeling all right now?"

Shepard leaned into me, leaning her full lips into mine.

These alluring depths of her convinced me of my observations. _Completely._

When she pulled away, I felt her deep, calming voice all the way inside of me: "I'm all right, babe. Thank you for everything. You know I'm not used to leaning on anyone. Not for anything. I trust you, though."

She had my heart soaring—flying higher as she kept my hand in hers. Having us leave together.

Just this short walk to the elevator proved momentous. The other crew saw us walking side by side. They took in the esteem of Shepard's formal Alliance uniform, bucking our Cerberus surroundings more than ever. They spotted my own esteem, as proud as I was to belong to our ship's captain in this way.

Once we arrived to the engineering deck, Shepard and I made our way to the port cargo room.

Kaidan's security teams had decided this was the best location to keep our Prothean friend under watch.

And I supposed Shepard could have spoken with the Prothean sooner. Perhaps yesterday, directly after Eden Prime. I wondered if she'd taken this time on purpose. Delaying their talk; making an example out of the Prothean like this. Keeping him in custody as both a punishment for his offhanded insults toward us, as _primitives._ As well as a warning for him to not step out of line with us again. Especially with me.

These more romantic displays of Shepard's ruthlessness forever left me enchanted by her.

But before we arrived to the port cargo room, someone else surprised us.

Leaving the engine room area, through this door to the hallway with us—Tali appeared there.

My first instinct was to say hello to her. Or even to offer for Tali to join us with the Prothean.

Instead, Tali took one look at Shepard and squeaked out in fright.

She then quickly fled the scene, hurrying back through the door and out of sight.

Bewildered, Shepard stared after her. "Did I do something wrong?"

"I haven't the faintest idea," I answered. "Maybe we should follow her. She can't have gone far."

We continued through the doors and into the ship's engine room. On this side, Shepard and I found Legion and Engineer Daniels at a panel together, discussing their current project. They both greeted us, seeming oblivious as to our chief engineer's personal troubles. I stayed with Gabby and Legion, while Shepard went over to Tali on the other side, over at her work panel. Far enough away, with the loud, pulsing, soothing sounds from the drive core nearby, they could have their own conversation together.

Keeping up appearances, Tali pretended to work at her station.

Shepard knew better, not letting any such issues get in their way.

With our other engineers too distracted, they couldn't overhear these beginnings:

"Tali, what's the matter?" asked Shepard, genuinely worried. "You ran off the second you saw me. Are you okay? Did I scare you?" At the very least, Tali stopped pretending to work. She took a deep, frightened, shuddering breath. "Hey, you know you can talk to me. Whatever this is about, I'll listen."

Tali shook her head. Muttering words I could not hear.

The only reason I knew she spoke at all: the light over her mouth, her helmet lit up with her speech.

So Shepard leaned down, lowering her own voice. Speaking more. Subtler this time.

Turning toward her, Tali appeared to whisper closer to Shepard's ear. And as she did, I could not read Shepard's reaction. Not for the long, drawn-out moments Tali spoke her truths, completely obscured to me. Though perhaps I couldn't discern anything on purpose. Shepard seemed to restrain herself then. Restraining her real reactions. How she wanted to behave. What she truly wished to say in the moment.

And not because she knew I watched them.

Shepard had forever trained herself to do this. To protect other people; to protect herself.

So I tried my best to read her lips instead.

I could only distinguish one deep murmur of Shepard's voice— _"Is that really how you see me, Tali?"_

Meek and vulnerable, Tali nodded her head in response. She'd nearly started trembling from nerves.

Shepard held her shoulder, stabilizing.

As they continued speaking, I glanced around the room. This engine room. This symbol of the _Normandy's_ productivity. Something about this room gave me an idea for later on. Much, much later on.

Contradicting the stability she gave, Shepard whispered one last thing.

One last thing that appeared to rock Tali's world.

One final thing that made Tali gasp in shock—sending her fleeing again, back out to the hallway.

As coincidence, Jack had just traveled upstairs from the subdeck, nearly getting run over in the process.

"Hey, Tali!" barked Jack. "Woman, will you get back here?! What the hell!"

When Tali only barreled past, Jack followed, still shouting after her. They disappeared into the elevator.

Admittedly intrigued, I went over to Shepard, asking, "And what was that all about?"

"Nothing you don't already know," she confirmed.

"Then you'd better keep your hands to yourself," I pretended to scold. "You shouldn't corrupt her."

Shepard gave me a charming grin, still rather twisted.

"I think it's too late for that, babe."

"Mmm, you're probably right. Now come on, let's get going. I'm sure Tali will be fine in due time."

Absolved from Tali's melodramatics, Shepard and I pressed on to the port cargo area.

Inside this shadowed-white room, we found Kaidan with his marine detachment, armed and loaded. The guards all had their rifles aimed in the Prothean's general direction. The Prothean himself remained knelt upon the floor. Meditating in absolute silence. Waiting to be released from this near-captivity.

"Commander," said Kaidan, saluting her. "Glad you're here. We're still following protocol for first contact with a new species. _'Assume hostility.'_ Had to dust off the regulations. But he seems fine, really."

The Prothean sent a shadowed glare in Shepard's direction.

He appeared perfectly aware of her intentions—this purposeful waiting game, the point of it all.

Regardless, Shepard stepped closer to him. "At ease. I don't think our guest will be a problem." The guards relaxed their stances; the Prothean stood up properly. "Will he?"

"That depends on you," came the Prothean's brooding reply.

Of a sudden, he moved forward. Grabbing onto Shepard's arms. _Reading her,_ just as he'd done to me.

The guards hastened to aim their rifles at him anew.

Yet he did no more than this. Only reading. Sensing Shepard like this. Learning her—or attempting to.

Perplexed, the Prothean stepped away.

"How remarkable, Commander," he praised, bitterly so. "I read from your partner her fears. Her many apprehensions about the Reapers. What you must do, what you must accomplish. She frets over her role in protecting you. In replicating the fabled, failed methods of my own people." Shepard turned to glance at me, finding the truth trembling in my eyes. "And I assumed her fears had transferred to you. That you both shared them; and that this cycle was doomed, just as mine was, long ago. Hence my quickness to name you— _and her_ —as primitives, all. Yet I see now that I have misjudged you. Severely."

"I'll take that as your apology, then," accepted Shepard. "How exactly did you misjudge me?"

"By the mere fact that I cannot judge you. I cannot sense, cannot read anything of your person."

"What do you mean, 'sense'?"

"All life provides clues for those who can read them. It is in your cells, your DNA. Experience is a biological marker. On your human colony, where you discovered my pod—I did not fully read you as you witnessed the fall of my peoples' empire. Not you, _personally._ I gained only sufficient knowledge of your species, which your partner then strengthened for me. Nonetheless, I found it odd I could not sense you in your entirety. I worried that perhaps something was amiss. But this was not so. You are…unique."

Shepard remembered, "You communicate through physiology. What's so unique about me in this case?"

"There is a block, Commander," explained the Prothean. "My last battle left its mark on me. I communicated this to you. It is supposed to work both ways. With you, this does not work as intended. Though it is possible this is by design. I cannot read or discern your marks, just as much as any Reaper cannot penetrate your mind to indoctrinate you. By the time I was born, there were no such people left to take down the Reapers through their backdoors. You are what we could have, should have been."

"Then that's a good thing."

"You appear pleased by this."

"Of course," replied Shepard. "It's only natural. It's just how I am. There's nothing wrong with it."

"Hmm." The Prothean grunted in worry. "Yet you are the only one, Commander. The only organic in this cycle capable of resisting the Reapers. You have prepared for the invasion. You heeded our warnings. And your will is most powerful. The fate of the entire galaxy falls to you—and your lone protector."

"We've accepted that. Or at least I have. But it sounds like you don't have much faith in this."

"That is because I was a soldier. Skilled in one art: killing. This other method was nothing but a fairy tale during my lifetime. You could say we leaned into our roles instead. Among my people, there were…avatars of many traits: bravery, strength, cunning. A single exemplar for each."

Shepard asked, "Which are you?"

"The embodiment of vengeance. I am the anger of a dead people, demanding blood be spilled for the blood we lost. Only when the last Reaper has been destroyed will my purpose be fulfilled. I have no other reason to exist. Those who share my purpose become allies. Those who do not become casualties. And it would seem you are the same. I have taken great notice of your character, your decisions."

"Our reasons may be different, but our goals _are_ the same. This ship will help take down the Reapers. Before that, we're dealing with the Collectors. We have to put your peoples' husks out of their misery."

"Then I will help you fight," declared the Prothean. "I must avenge my people as the Collectors they have become. And the last thing the Reapers will hear before they die—will be the last voice of the Protheans sending them to their grave. You may count on me, Commander. I am known as Javik."

Shepard offered her hand. "Then welcome to the team, Javik."

Solemn, Javik merely shook her hand, saying nothing in response.

"I want our chief medical officer to take a look at you. Just to make sure you're doing all right. Dr. Chakwas will want to ask you a few questions about your health. She's never worked with a Prothean before, so give her some patience. I'll stay with you in the med bay."

Javik understood. "Of course, Commander. It could not hurt to be examined by a medical professional."

EDI's voice sounded over the intercom: _"Miranda, James would like to speak with you in the armory."_

"Oh, all right," I said, wondering as to James' timing. "Thank you, EDI. I'll head up to see him now."

Shepard gave me a look.

Wordless, we agreed—I would take the elevator with her, with Javik, with Kaidan and the guards. Heading up together, I saw her off at the crew deck, carrying on to the command deck on my own. But even in that look of hers, this single sentiment persisted. Shepard knew of my fears now, confirmed as much by Javik himself. Perhaps she'd suspected as much, given her intuitive nature. Yet she offered me this allowance. This clemency in refusing to judge me. And so we allowed the issue to fall by the wayside. We didn't need to discuss it. Though I knew she expected me to do something about this.

* * *

Arriving to the armory, I found that Zaeed was not here. Thank God. Just James by himself, standing at the computer, working there. Or perhaps finishing up his work, given everyone's plans to spend time together quite soon. Like Kaidan, James chose to wear his Alliance fatigues while aboard the _Normandy._ I understood that neither of them wished to wear our Cerberus colors instead, given their allegiances. Shepard had of course set her own examples, choosing to don her formal uniform these days. I fully respected their decision. Even if I felt some guilt about it. Because once this mission was over, I expected Shepard and the others to cut all ties with Cerberus, with the Illusive Man. I would also need to choose.

Rather distracted, James barely heard the sounds of my heels on my approach. He'd appeared rather withdrawn lately, after having read the full report. About everything that had happened. Understandably so, as his previous idea of who Ashley once was—another soldier he'd looked up to—had been shattered. I had never been certain if James' obvious feelings for Ashley were genuine. But seeing him now, the slowness with which he typed and sighed, seemed to answer my questions for me.

"James," I stated, turning his attention this way. "You wanted to see me."

"Yeah—hey, Miranda," said James. "You weren't in your office when I checked. EDI let me know she'd pass the message along. Think you and the commander were talking to the Prothean. Looks like Shepard already updated the crew manifest. Dude's name is Javik, huh? Pretty cool if you ask me."

"Javik is certainly—a character."

"You mean he's an asshole."

"You said it, not me," I insisted. "Shepard's made it quite clear she won't tolerate that sort of thing. Not toward her, or toward me. He seems to have a grudging respect for her already. I suppose it's a start."

James brought up an old grudge: "Well, speaking of that… I wanted to give you a real apology. You know, from two, two and a half years ago. Sorry for that shit I pulled with you and Lieutenant Williams. It wasn't right. I didn't mean no disrespect. Guess I was just—feeling myself too much. That ego from being around my boys, thinking I could shoot my shot. I saw her in front of me and I kinda lost my mind."

"Apology accepted, James," I told him, feeling the last of this grudge slip away. "Thank you. Though I'm surprised by this confession of yours. You _lost your mind_ when you saw Ashley in front of you, really?"

"I mean, she's—she was…that person for me. The one who got me through Fehl Prime, the worst place I've ever been stationed at. The Collectors damn near took everything from me on that colony. Sure, I'd think of the commander. Looking up to her example that way when things got rough. But Lieutenant Williams was relatable to me. We were the same age and all. And I—felt some type of way about her."

"There's no need to sugarcoat this. Not with me. You still love Ashley very much. Don't you?"

James contorted his face in pain, remorse. "Honestly, I don't know, Miranda… I've tried not to talk about it with the team. The thing is, the truth's tearing me up inside. Knowing what she did. Remembering the two of you finding me at the 94, _right after._ Seriously, the lieutenant fucking talked to me like nothing even happened! Like she didn't just murder someone not even an hour before you got to the club…"

Sympathetic, I observed, "You do seem quite angry with her. Or with yourself for not noticing."

"Think it's both," he muttered in contempt. "Even then, I can't forget the way she made me feel. The way I _still_ feel about her, despite everything. I don't know how I'm gonna set this aside—if ever. Makes me feel like an outcast with the team, you know? They all hate Lieutenant Williams' guts—and for good reason. But here I am, still holding on to her memory like this. Just makes me feel alone. Like shit."

Given how poorly things had gone between us before, I felt surprised by James' confessions to me.

Yet he truly did seem alone here. As if he had no one to confide in.

His habits and expectations of being the jokester, the _life of the party_ shadowed over his sincerity.

Perhaps he trusted me because I had been there that night, even with my own lying, my own secrecy.

Still, I couldn't allow James to wallow in his misery alone like this. I did my best to help him instead:

"Why don't you tell me more about Fehl Prime," I suggested. "What happened there that made you hold onto Ashley like this? I know you needed to make a choice. You had to make a decision in the end, to sacrifice the colonists captured by the Collectors, all for the important data you obtained."

"Yeah…there's a little more to it than that," noted James, solemn. "Me and my team made it onto one of the Collectors' ships. Trying to get the colonists back. The Collector data was with one of our other people. An asari scientist. She's a Prothean expert—really looks up to Liara a lot. But I couldn't save her _and_ the colonists. She had the data…and I kinda liked her, too. I saved her, sacrificing the colonists instead. The Alliance had no idea what to even do with the data. So my choice didn't amount to anything in the end. I only saved one person, letting all the colonists get harvested by the Collectors."

"Hmm, I see… That's unfortunate. This other asari scientist—are you still in touch with her?"

"Nah, that's the thing. We fell out of touch after everything. The whole aftermath from the mission was just too much to handle. Never stopped thinking about Lieutenant Williams, though. Kept wondering how she was doing, after losing Shepard the way she did. There were tons of times when I wanted to get in contact with her. You know, trying to be that man in her life. Not minding whatever baggage she probably had… Then I found her at the Super Bowl with the commander. Then the rest happened."

I understood. "Yes, I suppose I was that man in Ashley's life instead."

James offered a wry grin. "Guess you were, Miranda."

"Is this why you have these rules of yours? _No fraternizing._ As you explained to Jack the other day."

"I mean…yeah. It's always been her. Always been because of her. Chief Williams. Lieutenant Williams."

"Well, if it's any consolation, you're not alone with this. Shepard won't admit it, but she does miss Ashley as well. I believe she's still letting go of some of her anger. It'll take some time. Once that time passes, Shepard will remember Ashley more positively. And she will always love her. No matter what."

"I had a feeling. Knowing for sure—it does help a lot. Thanks for telling me. I'll keep this to myself."

"As will I. This talk was surprising, but I'm glad you chose to confide in me. Thank you, James."

"Definitely," he said, smiling more. "Not gonna lie, I was gonna talk to Shepard. Figured she had enough going on. Plus I can tell she'd rather keep her distance. I respect that. Wish I could at least give her a nickname. Thought about calling her _Skipper._ You know, since she's the ship's commander and all…"

I gave him a look of horror.

James winced in guilt. "Yeah, I know… I caught myself on that. Guess I won't call her Skipper after all."

"For your own sake, I hope you won't."

"Nah, it's all good, Miranda. I know where the line is. I'm not crossing it. Promise. Am I gonna see you later on with the whole gang? Minus Thane and Samara, I guess. Shepard, too, since she's not into the whole team socializing thing. Not surprised they're all sitting this one out."

"Yes, I'll be there," I reassured him. "Whenever Joker brings the _Normandy_ to the next fuel station, I'll meet you all on the bridge. I suppose it wouldn't hurt to spend some time with everyone. For once."

"Good to hear. I'll let you get back to it. Didn't wanna take up too much of your time. See you soon."

"Of course. I'll see you then."

Leaving James to finish up with his duties, I returned to the elevator.

And I was about to return to my office, to my room. To at least continue winding down until the team's scheduled gathering. But my talk with James inspired me to check in with our other newest team members. Samara and Thane. Especially since they wouldn't be joining us later on. Aside from their respectful replies to my welcoming emails, I'd yet to have a one-on-one with either of them. So I figured I'd make up for that while I still could. They both enjoyed their space, but I didn't want them to feel ignored.

At the crew deck, I passed down this hallway to the starboard observation room. Along the way, I glanced at the closed door of the med bay. I knew Shepard was still inside the room, there with Javik and Dr. Chakwas. I could only wonder how Javik's medical examination went, what with Dr. Chakwas needing this crash course on Prothean biology. Though I was certain she was quite up to the challenge.

Arriving to Samara's space, I found our justicar sitting upon the floor. Meditating before this expansive view of the stars beyond the window. Her body aglow in the blue and white of her biotics, Samara maintained her focus, even as she sensed me. Yet with her senses, those colors dulled and disappeared. She looked at my reflection along the window in front of her, boring the pale blue of her eyes there.

"Miranda," spoke Samara, turning to glance at me. "How good of you to visit. Though I must admit some surprise. You do not strike me as a particularly social woman. Or is there something you need of me?"

"I hoped to check in with you, Samara," I responded. "To see how you're doing. Are you all right?"

"I am quite well, thank you. Please feel free to sit with me. I am interested in speaking with you."

Taking my seat just nearby—not on the floor—I felt rather disarmed by Samara's frankness.

Something told me this would be a recurring theme in my interactions with her.

Crossing my legs on instinct, I had to ask, "You _wanted_ to speak with me, really?"

"Yes, I did," she replied. "In between my investigation, I have had much time to reflect on the team. On the mission thus far. And I have formed my own opinions. I am curious to see if these might change."

"Then might I ask what your opinion is of me?"

"You are undoubtedly a hard woman, Miranda. I respect your strength and determination. You carry many burdens, and you do not share them with others. Save for the commander. As it should be."

"Well, I appreciate that. Thank you, Samara. And thank you for allowing this chat between us."

Samara smiled in a bit of levity. "I have spent much of the last four hundred years on my own. It is nice to have a colleague to chat with. I may be rusty at it, however. If you are patient, I would love to talk."

I pointed out the obvious: "I can assume you've read the reports I sent over."

"Yes, I have."

"You seem unperturbed by them."

"We cannot change the past," she reasoned. "There is little gain in fretting over what has already been. That is not to say those events have not been on my mind. I have certainly spent many hours pondering your actions. The commander's actions. Everyone's. I find them all quite telling of your characters."

"Then I take it you're more focused on the present. And the future."

"As much as I am able, yes. I have sworn an oath to follow Commander Shepard, and she seeks to destroy the Collectors. I now know that the Collectors were once Protheans. And that is enough for me."

"Is that true?" I asked. "You're not the least bit curious about learning more?"

Samara enlightened me: "When you live by a code that compels you to harsh action, you learn the dangers of curiosity. For example, you are my executive officer. In my oath, I included my tenets to protect you, as the one the commander holds most dear. But what if I made no such vows? If I must ever kill you because you have done wrong, do I really wish to know you long to be a devoted mother? More specifically, that you hope to one day be Shepard's wife forevermore. The mother of her children."

That information wasn't in any of my reports… _"You_ —how do you know that about me?"

Stoic and mysterious, Samara gave no response.

Still, she wouldn't have divulged these _painfully intimate details_ if she didn't want me to know.

Even as her clairvoyance left me unsettled…I chose to respect her silence. Her calculations with this.

So I changed the subject—"Then what do you think of Cerberus? Working for a human organization."

"I have heard rumors," noted Samara. "But I've learned long ago to form my own impressions. There is too much room for interpretation in the opinions of others."

"In that case, why were you willing to work for us when you didn't have first-hand knowledge?"

"I work for the commander. I work for you. Our methods may be different, but our goals are not. Shepard also assisted me a great deal on Nos Astra. My investigation continues apace thanks to the information she obtained. It will be quite some time before I decide to strike. But I am confident this time will be the end. I will succeed. Even though I must be patient, the wait will undoubtedly pay off."

I recalled, "You didn't mention much about the criminal you were chasing on Illium."

Samara lowered her head. "There is a reason for that, Miranda. I hope you will understand if I wish to avoid this topic. It is deeply tied to my code and beliefs." She gave me a look, filled with the same energy as those divulgements. "You might say it is personal. But it will not impact the mission in any way."

"I do understand, certainly. We don't need to go over it. I was only curious, that's all. This seems to be the dominating theme of your life. Your endeavors as a justicar. Everything else is second to this."

"Given all I have learned, I would say my oath to Commander Shepard is my primary focus. Although my investigation is imperative—as I must prevent this fugitive from harming others—I have felt…a change. A tangible shift in my priorities as of late. During my meditations, I seek to refocus and rebalance my energies. This is why I declined the team's offer to socialize. I fear I will not make for good company."

"I'm sure they won't hold it against you," I reassured. "But when you put it that way, you sound almost—troubled. Worried about these changes you're going through. Would you say that's true?"

"You have the right of it, yes," confirmed Samara. "I became a justicar solely to take down this fugitive. I gave up nearly all of my possessions, material or otherwise; set aside my worldly concerns; learned to view myself as a mere vessel for enacting justice. And yet my oath to the commander has brought me a rare form of enlightenment. My eyes are open to the universe at all times. This, too, is quite unsettling."

This felt close to the reasons for her clairvoyance. Yet I knew this explanation wasn't the full story.

"Have you made these oaths with others? Surely they made you feel the same way."

"The one I share with Shepard is unique, because she is unique. _Unusually so._ However, once more, I hope you will forgive my silence on the matter. I am concerned about the possible ramifications. What could happen to me, were I to divulge all to you. Or to anyone for that matter. I have spoken enough."

Samara's existential crisis certainly sounded intriguing. Though I knew better than to pry any further.

Standing up, I told her, "I should leave you to your meditations, then. If you ever decide to share more with me, I'll gladly listen. Of course, I won't fault you for your silence. I trust that you know best."

"Thank you, Miranda. Despite the hurdles, I have enjoyed this talk. Perhaps we will speak another time."

"Absolutely, Samara. Take care."

"You as well."

Perfect posture, biotics aglow once more—Samara returned to her meditating. As if I wasn't even here.

She seemed so far away in this moment, contemplating her eye of the universe. Wherever that was.

I left her room, heading back down the hallway. My head stayed heavy with so many wonderings.

* * *

Arriving this time to the life support room, I lingered outside the door for the longest. Thane was just inside. And I certainly did wish to speak with him. I still remember how much he'd impressed me back on Illium, dealing with Nassana Dantius and her guards the way he had. But there was this…strange feeling I had. An odd sensation that accosted me, standing right by this unlocked door to the life support area. To Thane's lodgings. I wasn't sure what this was. If it was genuinely my intuition or something else.

I had the sense that Shepard didn't approve of Thane. Though I couldn't really imagine why. He seemed quite harmless to me—aside from his storied history as an assassin, of course. He obviously posed no threat to us. Not personally. And he was our teammate. So I saw no real harm in speaking with him.

This life support area certainly felt more arid than the rest of the ship. And this view of the drive core through the window, right above the engine room as we were—those same calming sounds pulsed through here, muffled somewhat. Distanced. But still soothing. Still quieting the atmosphere, allowing Thane this peace. Sitting at a table, facing the view of the drive core, Thane appeared to bask in the Zen all around. Contemplative, thoughtful. I envied his sense of calm and focus, as level-headed as he was.

Yet as I neared him, I noticed the real source of his concentration.

In Thane's hands was an actual print book. Yellowed pages, text over paper in the English language.

Worried that I'd interrupted his reading, I was about to leave him be.

He surprised me by speaking aloud, "Miranda. Do you need something?"

I stared down at my boots. Of course he'd heard my approach.

When I couldn't respond, Thane turned to smile at me.

"How ironic that your partner is an infiltrator," he remarked. "I would venture no small guess your personalized footsteps have caused her much distress. There is a specific character to your heels, the style of them. The way they sound when you walk. It is as if you step with your self-restraint before your confidence. Any other skilled assassin could easily memorize such a sound. Were they blind, they would always know it belongs to you. Perhaps the commander is aware of this. Has she complained to you?"

"No, actually," I replied, rather stunned by his attention to detail. "Though there have been a few times when Shepard's had to carry me. Specifically because of my footsteps. It could be that she's wanted to complain about it. In that case, I think she's chosen to be diplomatic instead. She notices everything."

"Ah, of course. Shepard would not want to offend you. Neither would I. Please don't feel the need to leave so soon. I would be happy for us to speak with one another. I was not expecting your company."

Thane gestured to the seat in front of him, at the table.

I sat before him, then, closer to the sounds of this soothing.

From this angle, at least, I could see the cover of the book in his hands, the title—

 _"The Prince_ by Niccolò Machiavelli?"

"Yes, indeed," said Thane. "This text has hooked me. The allegorical character described by the author…well, they sound quite familiar. Especially now that I am caught up on events, both current and past, with the rest of the team. It has been a fascinating experience. Fascinating, yet—worrisome."

"Worrisome in what way?"

"Commander Shepard has been the topic of galactic interest for a good many years now. Being part of her team is certainly a privilege. I worry that I will never get to see past that veneer of hers. The stoic, ruthless prince who would send anyone to death for the sake of her comrades. Her many justifications will remain unknown. She is close, but incredibly far away. I don't quite know what to make of her."

"These things take time," I counseled. "Shepard won't move until she's ready. Once she does, I believe she'll surprise you. I wouldn't put much stock into the way things are now. You'll have to be patient."

Thane only sighed in more worry. "I am used to patience, Miranda."

"Are you certain about that?"

"As certain as I can be," he insisted. "Fortitude, faith, forgiveness. My people thrive on these virtues."

"I wonder about your people, the drell. They live on the hanar homeworld on Kahje, don't they?"

"Yes. I know many think the hanar difficult to understand. It's just that they're very formal with those they don't know. We know them quite well. If you ever get close enough to a hanar that they tell you their Soul Name, you would find them warm."

"I thought that hanar only let very close friends know their Soul Name."

Thane explained, "As an assassin, most of my commissions were for hanar. I grew close to my regular contacts. Soul Names tend to be poetic. A hanar known for its cynicism might take a name that means _'Illuminates the Folly of the Dancers.'_ "

"Well, considering the hanar speak using bioluminescence, I would imagine that would be quite the obstacle—for anyone else outside of Kahje, that is."

"True. Many drell have had their eyes genetically modified to perceive their higher frequency flashes. I had the treatment. I can't tell the difference between a dark red and black, but I can see ultraviolet light as a silver color. The experience can be transcendent at times. In a way, it is tied to my own faith."

I remembered his prayers on Illium—"When you _pray for the wicked,_ who exactly are you praying to?"

"That depends on the circumstance," answered Thane. "To find my target, I speak with Amonkira, Lord of Hunters. When I act to defend another—Arashu, Goddess of Motherhood and Protection. And when I have taken my target, I speak with Kalahira, Goddess of Oceans and the Afterlife."

"Hmm, this isn't the first time I've heard of the ocean linked to the afterlife."

"For good reason. Consider. The ocean is full of life. Yet it is not life as you and I know it. To survive there, we must release our hold on land. Accept a new way to live. So it is with death. The soul must accept its departure from the body. If it can't, it will be lost. All of our gods follow a similar logic."

"I'm not religious myself," I prefaced, "But I do find this thought-provoking on its own. Especially learning that the drell have this many gods. You're polytheistic, then?"

"This is one of our older beliefs. Many embrace the hanar Enkindlers now, or the asari philosophies. The old ways are dying. There are so many ways to interpret one's place in the universe. Who needs the wisdom of our ancestors? The younger generations don't believe they can help us fathom genetic engineering, orbital strikes, or alien races. I find our reality unfortunate. Yet this is the way of things."

Thane's profound sense of wisdom and knowledge reached at something in me.

I had never taken organized religion seriously, at all. Before meeting Shepard, before applying the connection we now had, I hardly believed in any deities for that matter. God had done nothing for me that I hadn't already done for myself. What did I need Him for? And yet these concepts, these novel perceptions had inundated me, slowly, over these past few years. Faith as a concept did seem comforting to me now. Belief as this application of my deepest vulnerabilities…I began to understand.

Bottomless as the black of Thane's eyes, watching me, lit up in size, I found his patience.

He appeared to sense what I now understood.

"You are not a woman of faith," he observed. "Though you are an intellectual all the same. I hope I have inspired you to think things through. To perhaps see this from a different perspective. You have chosen to make Commander Shepard the center of the universe. Certainly, her larger-than-life sense of self is accommodating to this, to your choice. The way you view her. She is your religion—and so much more."

Much more so, the book in Thane's hands only reinforced my choice.

"You're right," I agreed, standing now. "Thank you for this conversation, Thane. You really have given me plenty to think about. We should do this again sometime. For now, I'll leave you to your reading."

"Of course, Miranda. I would appreciate another talk, another time. I thank you for your visit."

Leaving the life support area, I certainly felt— _lighter._ As if I'd shed some unknown weight over my shoulders. One I hadn't known about at all. Not until I realized it was gone. That weight, I understood, was certainly this matter of faith. Faith and belief. Beliefs I hadn't actually known how to embrace. Not until these moments I spent heading to the crew's quarters. Walking to my next destination here within.

I supposed I had been so focused on tangible results. Evidence I could see. Reassurance I could analyze and scrutinize with my own eyes, with my own knowledge and understanding. Taking this leap of faith and accepting my fears about the future—with the war, with Shepard and her well-being, with my relationship with her. Such a thing had seemed impossible to me. Hence my obsessions, my fears over making any single mistake. I still felt those fears, yet they stayed with me much differently than before.

Opening this next door in my life, I passed through the door to this room.

This room in the officers' area of the crew's quarters.

This final, honorary room I'd set aside, right next to Tali's clean room.

Honorary no more, it now proved as a prescient measure of my practicality:

_Liara's room._

Quiet. Such a calming quiet all around.

Only the usual sounds of the _Normandy's_ equipment running, and the computer gently humming on.

All along this right side of the room, I'd set up these monitors for her to work. I turned them on now, illuminating the space in a delicate gathering of blue light. Along the opposite wall, the windows opened up to the stars, the surfaces reflecting the blue and more. At the very far wall was the bedroom space—the full-sized bed, the nightstands, the lamp, the couches nearby. The adjacent bathroom. The large, framed painting of Ilos on the wall. And this ethereal sense, everywhere, that Liara was already here.

Feeling nostalgic, I wandered over to the bed.

This white comforter comforted me as I sat down. I ran my hand over this comfort, remembering the salvage. Salvaging this from the original _Normandy's_ wreckage, in what had been left of Liara's old room behind the med bay. I had restored the blanket myself, using omni-gel to fix all the rips and tears. I had done this even after witnessing Shepard's memories. Knowing what she and Liara had done while insulated beneath this comfort, just once, for many, many hours with the team spying on them. To that end, I had prepared this room for Shepard herself. In case she had found herself unable to let go of Liara after all. In case Shepard wished to mourn her forevermore. In case the two of us had no chance together whatsoever; in the event she wanted to stay in love with her memory of the deceased.

Certainly, I would have respected her decision.

I would have told her all the same things I'd said just days ago. Back on the Citadel.

I would have encouraged Shepard to feel however she needed to feel. Whether she had a choice or not.

Going to check on the bathroom, ensuring the cleanliness here, I remembered my reaction that day. I recalled the unusual sense of elation I'd felt, knowing that Shepard trusted me with her honesty. To truly communicate with me. To actually tell me of her struggles, her lingering feelings for another woman. I had never viewed Liara as another person, as _someone else._ Until recently, I didn't know why.

Staring at myself through the spick and span of this mirror, I absolutely knew why. I fully understood.

Like doubling up. Like reinforcement. Like reassurance of what already was: Shepard's confessions to me on the Citadel had felt as the ultimate validation. Strengthening my own image. Feeding into my own ego, my own personal security with myself. Because I would have rather Shepard had such feelings for someone like Liara—someone like me—instead of someone else. An _actual_ someone else. Like Aria.

_The devil you know._

Pulling me out of my thoughts, Joker's fun announcement sounded over the intercom:

_"Hey folks, we'll be at the next fuel station in fifteen minutes! If you're hanging out with the main crowd, get to the bridge ASAP. We're gonna hit the convenience store for snacks, then get back to the ship for some R &R. Be there or be square!"_

I took these last few moments to myself.

I wasn't sure how this socializing would go. In fact, I began to question why I'd agreed to join everyone.

This rare instance of mixing with the team; blurring the lines of our hierarchy with one another. And my strange attempts at trying to fit in with them. Even knowing that I kept my own distance; that I elevated myself as their superior officer on purpose. Not to stroke my ego—as with other situations—but simply to avoid them. To avoid exposing myself, my vulnerabilities. To avoid this painful awkwardness biting at me now. I would never share in their social comforts. Their ease with one another. A desire to be close.

I felt this friendly wish with Liara, and perhaps Thane now. And with Shepard, of course, far more so.

I had promised to pretend with the others for one day.

As much as this pretending only reinforced my shortcomings. Painfully so. I endeavored to entertain.

* * *

Appearing as if all was normal, I reached the bridge at an acceptable time. Acceptable, because I was the last one to arrive. Fashionably late. Yet everyone had been courteous enough to wait for me, conversing among themselves: Joker, Legion, Zaeed, Garrus, Mordin, Jack, Tali, Kaidan, Kasumi, EDI, and Javik.

When they noticed me, many of them smiled. Despite this habit of my frosty exterior. They didn't mind.

As a group, we left the _Normandy,_ heading out the airlock to the fuel station. I said not a word to anyone, instead listening to them interact together. Everyone had welcomed Javik warmly, not seeming to mind his grumpy and judgmental attitude. They'd already begun asking him several questions about his people, the Protheans, ideally as Liara would have done if she were here. Joker and Garrus had their quips about Javik possibly dying from the snacks they were to purchase; the others laughed together over Javik's uppity response, having already learned not to take his self-righteousness _too_ seriously.

The only one acting strangely was Tali, still.

She hadn't spoken at all. Laughed at all. Completely silent, she kept to herself.

For a vague moment, I wondered if she had been avoiding me lately. Tali had every reason to do so. But if she had a problem, I wished she felt comfortable enough to speak to me about it. I didn't enjoy this feeling, this awkwardness between us. How Tali refused to even be within arm's reach of me, keeping her distance instead. Of course, I'd never expected us to be friends. This distance would have to suffice.

The convenience store found us in cleanliness and thin crowds.

Shelves and shelves packed with sugary candies and snacks all around—I roamed the aisles on my own, not quite knowing where to go. I hardly paid attention to the snacks everywhere, really. Instead, I felt hyperaware of everything else going on. Somewhere, Tali stared at me, even as she hid herself between the relatively towering heights of Joker, Garrus, and Kaidan around her. Perhaps she didn't know that I sensed her stare from behind her mask. Yet I felt her fixations nonetheless. Even so, I pretended to focus on Javik, watching as he crossed by another aisle nearby. He and Mordin spoke calmly together:

"Preposterous," dismissed Javik. "It is difficult to believe anyone could profit from these— _stores._ Such conveniences did not exist in my cycle. Any attempts to build upon the land only ended in failure, in destruction. We simply did not have the freedom to indulge in these things. It was unheard of."

Mordin observed, "Marked differences in freedoms between your cycle and ours. Usually have lone kiosks with selections on-screen. Having shelves stocked with live items offers more immersion. Illusion of greater selection, more variety. More time spent in stores, more purchases made, more credits spent. Profits to be made from convenience stores. Particularly with ample time to spend at fuel station."

Not paying attention, I somehow arrived at the refrigerated beverages, guarded behind the glass doors.

Barely listening to Javik and Mordin's discussion, I stared at the drinks. The cold bottles of tea held some appeal to me. I remembered the first time Shepard and I spoke about them through chat, back home at her apartment. I'd told Shepard that I wanted her to fetch me some tea, and she'd naïvely assumed I had a taste for these. Thinking back on it, I supposed her naïveté had been quite cute. Especially for her.

That cuteness of hers inspired me to reach for the door handle.

But something in this glass door's reflection caught my eye.

Something harsh, something severe—I could've _sworn_ I saw the golden brown of Shepard's eyes there. Staring at me. Stalking me from behind, at a distance. Hidden in the non-existent shadows of this open store. Protective. Paranoid. Possessive. _Obsessive._ Never wanting me to be too far away from her.

Blood pumping, throbbing. So much heat rushed between my legs; and up to my neck, my face.

And I remembered the sex we'd had in her car. Seeing the shapes of these bottles in my periphery, I remembered more. That feeling Shepard had given me, pulsing in my hand the way she had. Rock hard. I gripped the handle of this door even harder. I thought ahead to what more I needed from her. What more I needed Shepard to give to me. I imagined the sex we would have on Palaven soon enough. I knew we would, because Shepard had already talked about us checking into a hotel there. Staying in a hotel instead of staying on the ship. Because the heat on Palaven would require us to wear full armor and helmets outside at all times, to avoid the harsh solar radiation. Staying indoors—in a hotel—would allow us to escape that heat. So we would find our absolute heat with each other instead. As I wanted.

I needed Shepard to give me everything she had.

I needed her to stop holding back.

I needed her to fucking take me with a quickness. I needed her to command my body. I needed her to break me and take me over and over again. To prove to me once and for all that I wasn't crazy for saving myself for her. This look in her eyes, this reflection of her—I had the perfect taste of what awaited.

This power of hers belonged to me. These obsessions of hers remained rooted in my hands as this job.

_Shepard was mine._

And I would be damned if I let anyone take her from me. Devils or not; princesses and familiars less so.

"Hey, Miranda…"

Completely interrupting me— _and_ ruining the moment—Kasumi's hooded self appeared by my side.

Conveniently enough, that maddening sex appeal of Shepard's reflection disappeared from the glass.

I gripped this door handle even harder, muttering out, "What is it, Kasumi?"

"Nothing," she tried. "I just noticed you were off in your own little world over here. Wondered what was going on. You seem pretty preoccupied. Or you're socially awkward. Maybe both. I really have no idea."

Beyond perturbed, I held back the many comebacks that came to mind.

So Kasumi tried again, "Is it that odd for you to be our equal? At least for today."

"This isn't a matter of equality," I insisted. "I had something on my mind, that's all. You interrupted me."

"Hmm, if you say so. You just seem a lot different without Shepard around. I remember you were way more relaxed with everyone, back in her hometown. Heck, you even went to happy hour with them. I have to wonder why so much has changed now. It's almost like your whole personality depends on her."

"Stop overanalyzing me, Kasumi. I don't appreciate it."

Kasumi softened her motivations—"I was only making a few observations. It's what I always do."

"And you feel comfortable sharing these observations _now?"_

"I mean, I don't see why not… It isn't every day we get to speak with the executive officer like this. Sure, Shepard's the captain, but you're the boss. Everyone wonders what goes on in that head of yours. Remember I told you this before? Still hasn't changed. I'm pretty guilty of my own curiosity, too. Sorry!"

Jack and Zaeed were on their way over here.

I needed to get away before all three of them could trap me in a conversation.

Holding back my annoyance as much as possible, I grabbed one of these bottled teas. I brought it with me to the checkout kiosk. I had no idea how I was supposed to proceed with the rest of this socializing. Especially since everyone had agreed to spend time together in Kasumi's room on the _Normandy._ But for some reason, fate continued to make this more and more difficult for me. More and more awkward.

Off near the store's exit, Tali huddled around Garrus, Joker, and Kaidan once again. They'd already purchased their snacks, drinking juice and beer and whatever else they'd acquired. That lecherous smirk on Joker's face. That shocked curiosity in Kaidan's stare. That cautiously excited air about Garrus as a whole. I wasn't sure what Tali told them over there, but I knew they talked about me somehow. And if not me, then they probably discussed Shepard—for a multitude of reasons, all of which seemed obvious.

Somehow I doubted Tali herself was the topic of discussion. She would never be so bold, so brazen.

I had a feeling they noticed a change. A change about me, personally. As if they figured that Shepard had at last had sex with me. But they could never know that she had given me so much _more_ than that. Her whole heart. Everything. Even so, I felt Joker checking me out; and Garrus and Kaidan's attempts not to.

Perhaps there was some wisdom to Kasumi's timing after all.

Not liking this one bit, I decided to confront them directly.

The moment I approached them, they all changed their tunes considerably. Garrus stiffened his whole body. Tali edged away from my direction. Kaidan coughed, panicking. Joker muttered, _"Oh, shit, she's—"_

Sharp-tongued, I questioned—"What's going on over here?"

"N-Nothing!" lied Kaidan, terribly so. "Nothing at all, Miranda. W-We were just…err…"

Joker noticed that I'd _noticed_ him. "Y-You look kinda different today! Like, _seriously._ Wow…"

"Spare me this idiotic nonsense," I snapped. "What the hell are you all gossiping about? Don't bother lying to me again. Because if you don't tell me the truth, my patience will run out. This will be the last time I'll join these social hours with the team. So are you _really_ going to stay quiet and drive me off?"

Kaidan and Joker both froze, drawing only blanks.

Neither Tali nor Garrus could even deign to give me a single platitude.

"Suit yourself."

Such perfect timing: the rest of the team finished with their shopping, leaving the store together.

I allowed myself to get swept into the crowd.

We all returned to the _Normandy_ as one group, just as we'd left earlier. Far too much on my mind, I barely realized Kasumi had hovered somewhere near me again. Shadowed as her eyes were, she seemed to keep a close watch on me. Possibly because she knew I was irritated; possibly because she knew exactly why. And so I defrosted a bit, accepting her care and concern—however subtle—as we reached her room within the port observation deck.

As this location was originally supposed to be a lounge for the crew, I wasn't surprised they'd gravitated here. The bar on one side, the couches and chairs and coffee table along the same half of the room; and Kasumi's bunk and belongings on the other. Someone turned on the music, and the colorful lights all around, practically turning the gathering in a mini-rave party. And as the energy in the room ramped up, voices and laughter loudening, Kasumi was kind enough to give me my own space. She allowed me to sit on the couch near her bunk bed, just perpendicular to the window open to the starry view. I thanked Kasumi for her generosity as well as her subtlety. She gave me a smile and disappeared into the party.

Staring out to the starry sea, sipping on my sugary tea, I found that this wasn't so bad in and of itself.

Everyone else knew to stay on the other side of the room. They gave me this peace, in theory. But I still felt their stares nonetheless. The loudness of this electronic music could only conceal so much, really.

Vaguely, I listened as the others instructed Javik on how to use the chat room. He seemed resistant to the concept of typing letters to form words on the screen. Yet the team showed him more than enough patience, getting him up to speed in no time.

Still vague, I listened to James and Zaeed joke around together. "Hey, the old man ain't too bad in the armory," James would say. And Zaeed would grunt back, "Get off my fucking lawn, Vega," causing nearly everyone to laugh, teasing him more about his age. Defending himself, Zaeed would tease James back about his youth, insisting the lieutenant was nothing but a fuckboy. To which Jack heartily agreed, making crass sexual jokes about James liking her—"You wanna pin me down, make me call you Daddy?" And for some reason, Tali leaned over in her seat, as if she wanted to disappear entirely from the room.

No one else seemed to notice. Yet I certainly did.

Irrespective of Tali's strangeness, I felt such a familiar loneliness, being around other people in this way.

On occasion, I sensed their eyes on me. Watching me sip my tea in peace. Acting as if I didn't notice.

Everyone—Javik included—seemed in awe of me, putting me up on this pedestal. And not in a pleasing way, like Shepard did, making sure to kiss my boots all the while. Their attention from a distance gave me no satisfaction. They merely made me relive my worst memories of being around other people like this. To this day, I was still used to strangers and associates and colleagues assuming I was better than them. Assuming that I was stuck-up. Assuming that I thought myself above them; too good to bother sharing this type of company. Unreachable. Unapproachable. Unlikable. Relatability didn't exist with me.

Or so they thought.

These constant experiences had made me close myself off from others. Putting up these walls, ice cold. Refusing to entertain anyone's attention, dismissing them as insincere or disingenuous. Until Shepard, of course. But everyone else, even our team members whom we were supposed to be close with—they continued to remind me of these stupid standards society subjected me to. People would keep their distance, keep their distance; insist I was unlovable, unlikable; label me as difficult, emotionless, cold. So I grew into those labels—on the outside, to protect myself from this feeling. This feeling of not fitting in, even as I sat in the same room with everyone else as they partied on together. Completely separated.

A cynical part of me thought the worst of them. Because I remembered the old crew, the ones Shepard had summarily dismissed in the early days. How they'd made careers out of calling me a cold-hearted bitch behind my back. I could only wonder if my teammates felt the same way, deep down. Much farther down, well past the well of their respect for me, as I was their superior officer. Their boss.

I should have declined their offer to join them.

I should have upheld the hierarchy instead; kept our distance.

Irritating me all the more, I chose to tune back into their conversation at the worst time.

Having had a drink or two by now, James had such a smooth grin on his face. "I'm just saying—she's something else! You all saw the way she handled those fucking Collectors. Think Aria blew 'em up five at a time, ten at a time! That was some goddamned payback if I ever saw it. Like, _damn!_ She's amazing."

More relaxed as well, Javik admitted, "I must concede my agreement with you. This asari is…quite the attractive woman, as she is clearly the type who would destroy any in her path. I am a bit confused."

Beer in-hand, Kaidan laughed. "I _think_ someone already has Aria's attention," he noticed. "You two had better get in line behind the commander. Next time we see her, our powerful guest isn't gonna want to hang around anyone else. Aria works best with Shepard. And for good reason."

Joker scowled in annoyance. "Man, Shepard's hogging all the real estate…"

"Seriously?" chastised Jack. "Aria would never go for you. You're nowhere on her fucking radar! So what the hell are you talking about?!"

"Oh, c'mon, I know that! I just mean _in general!_ Besides, Aria's like what, six, seven hundred years old? She probably thinks I'm some little kid. That's funny, though, since I'm only like a year or two younger than Shepard. What does that make _her,_ anyway?"

I couldn't possibly roll my eyes any harder.

Noticing my dilemma, EDI and Legion came over to me.

"Hello, Miranda," said EDI, smiling as usual. "Are you enjoying yourself?"

Legion didn't mince words. "EDI, you have adopted the organic behavior of asking trivial questions for the sake of beginning a conversation. It remains clear Operator Lawson desires to be elsewhere."

I couldn't help smiling at that—and EDI's apparent confusion.

And I was glad we had our privacy. The music was loud enough to enclose our discussion together.

"But Legion," she argued. "I determined it would be rude to open with such an observation. Or perhaps insensitive. The others have grown content to merely gaze at Miranda from a distance." EDI looked to me in apology. "You have been alone. We did not wish to perpetuate this behavior any longer."

"It isn't your fault," I forgave. "You should both know I'm quite used to this. It's nothing new."

"Yes," agreed Legion. "We detected that your avoidant tendencies have resurfaced. Your threshold for social assimilation has significantly decreased as well. Do you often feel alone while surrounded by others?"

"I suppose that's one way to put it."

EDI wondered, "Is it troubling to have our teammates study you in this way?"

I certainly caught Jack, James, Kaidan, and Zaeed staring at me; trying to read my conversation.

"I think they're just curious," I replied. "Even so, all the attention is rather stifling. You don't need to tell them that. They'll understand once I leave soon. I've had enough of whatever it is they're doing."

Legion relayed the obvious: "They often speak privately of your beauty as an organic."

"Well, that's certainly no surprise."

EDI took it further—"A number of our teammates appear to harbor more overt sentiments toward you. Your mysterious qualities have likely amplified their feelings. They also find you very intimidating. Though their discussions never reach the _disrespectful_ classification, Legion and I remain—curious."

I hummed in intrigue. "Are you saying some of them are busy lusting after me over there? Is that it?"

"Yes," stated Legion.

"And did they ask you not to tell me?"

EDI smiled again. "We are sworn to secrecy not to tell you this information."

Brow raised, I pointed out, "Yet here you are."

Legion told me, "The deception was necessary in order to gather the necessary data. Had we not deceived them, the data we received would have been insufficient. We wished to inform you."

"So is this your way of…proving your loyalty?"

"We would like to offer this data—in exchange for Operator Lawson's friendship."

I laughed in delight, even as everyone stared at me more.

"Legion, EDI. You didn't need to deceive them. I could already imagine this is how they spend their time. The fact of the matter is, Shepard is mine and I am hers. Whatever they discuss in private is none of my business. They know they have no chance with me. I'm content to leave it at that. Though I do appreciate your offer of friendship. If I didn't know any better, you've thought about this for a while."

"That is true," recognized EDI. "Our reasons for desiring your friendship are numerous. Your unique perspective as an organic is certainly valuable. But we have grown to value you as a person. Not merely as our superior officer. We feared you would not be amenable to this conversation, had we brought up the issue before. Shepard recommended we should first give you some time. Her advice was sound."

"EDI is correct," confirmed Legion. "Operator Lawson is the perfect organic. We geth seek perfection for ourselves. Our goals are aligned. We also…care for you. You do not need to be alone among the team."

I outright beamed at them.

They couldn't know how much I needed to hear that right now.

Of course Shepard knew me best. Enough to give them the best possible suggestion.

"Thank you for your honesty," I shared. "I appreciate it. Sit with me. We can talk for a while longer."

EDI and Legion joined me on the couch. We spent the rest of this time talking in general. Usually about me—and their curiosity on this topic seemed truly unending. I no longer regretted coming along for this little get-together. Despite the awkwardness before, Legion and EDI made everything worth it. They surprised me in every way today, lifting up my spirits. I did find it enlightening, though, how I got along so well with our synthetic teammates. I knew Shepard was the same. So perhaps it wasn't so strange.

After this while, the party began getting too rowdy for my tastes.

I decided to excuse myself, leaving EDI and Legion to continue gathering more data on the others.

On my way out, I found Kasumi right by the door. She nodded to me. Smiling. Conveying her promise to keep my truths quiet. _She knew._ I returned her nod, glad to share in this unspoken understanding.

I returned to my room for a bit. Just to shower, to freshen up. To wash away my earlier regrets.

And then I made my way to the elevator. Even from here, I could hear that blasting music from behind Kasumi's door. Everyone had _really_ turned things up after I left. But as I'd said before, whatever they chose to do without me was none of my business. So long as they kept it private, I just couldn't care.

I cared far more about my allowances—that Shepard had given me permission to access her private cabin at any time. Thus I made my way up to her, anxious already. Anxious to see her again. Anxious to know how she'd spent her time today without me. And all my anxiety could have tipped over any minute now. Especially once I arrived to her door, finding it unlocked already. More so once I entered her room, freely, with these permissions of mine. Endlessly so once I found Shepard lying in bed, atop her blankets, her sheets. Sitting up against her pillows. Wearing one of those boyish white tank tops of hers, the slender sinew of her arms on full display. And a pair of black, slimming sweatpants—the under armor beneath slimming her even more. So tall, height for days. Presence for days as she looked up from her omni-tool, from whatever she had been reading. Command on command as she watched me approach.

Because there was just something about her. Something about Shepard's stare. That same possessiveness I could've sworn I saw in her earlier. Illusory or not, that time, this time was certainly real. This time, Shepard absolutely gave me this weight of her dark look. Her expectations. As if needing to know without a word: where I had been and who I was with, even though she knew the answers to that already. It was simply the _power_ of her passions. How she needed to know where I was at every second of every minute of every hour of every single day. Really, her controlling obsessions got me off.

And I found Shepard in bed, giving her this energy of mine—at least with my lips over hers.

"You're too stunning," I murmured in her mouth. "Were you waiting for me?"

"Yes," she breathed back. "I thought about messaging you. Didn't think you'd be gone for that long."

"I wasn't planning on it. EDI and Legion surprised me. We had quite the wonderful conversation."

I went over to Shepard's holo-closet, changing into my nightdress. I knew I couldn't stop smiling. Not necessarily because of earlier. But because Shepard wouldn't stop staring at me. There remained some distance between us now, metaphorically speaking, as she lacked information. She didn't necessarily know how I'd spent my time with the others. She _wanted_ to know. She needed to fill in the blanks, lest the two of us shared any sort of blanks in our understanding of one another. She had to know all of me.

So I crawled into bed with her, filling Shepard in on the story. She held me on this side I lay, practically hanging onto her as I did. Latching on without being ridiculous. My own attachments, my own affections. And how I adored her patience—the way she listened to me without much comment. Only the vocalizations she let out, deep and engaged. Shepard didn't interrupt me to speak, or even wait her turn to say a word. She focused more on holding me. Holding me close. Touching my body even in this non-sexual way. Handling my hips, stroking my spine. Teasing my thighs. Breathing this much closer to my neck; draping her long hair over me; hiding me away from the blacklight of her room. She made me smile more all without a word, letting me whisper my beaming story into her ear. Letting me hold onto her neck, her shoulders, the tone of her biceps. Her perfection far surpassed my own and anyone else's.

I noticed Shepard seemed unperturbed by my story, of the others lusting after me.

Warmed by her closeness, her skin— _everything_ —I asked, "Why aren't you the least bit surprised?"

"You already expect that type of thing," she explained. "They'd be crazy not to want you like this."

"Yes, but I expected you to be at least…"

As pure ecstasy, Shepard gripped at my thigh—pulling this bend of my leg closer to her.

"Territorial," she growled over me. "I am, babe. I always feel this way about you. It's nothing new."

I knew better than to tease her about it. Obviously, she wasn't threatened by them. Or by anyone.

Just knowing she felt like this about me—it was more than enough.

I stroked Shepard's arm, touching this memory of her arm aglow. "Then what were you reading earlier?"

"I started off reading your report from Eden Prime. Everything looks good. No surprises there, either. After that, I spent the rest of my time reading something else. Just some literature Garrus sent over about Cipritine, the city on Palaven. What to expect when we get there. I knew about most of it already."

"Hmm, what did you know beforehand? I'm afraid I don't know much about the turian homeworld."

"Well, Palaven's all about military life. Their troops are everywhere. Honor and service run deeply in their blood. It's in pretty much every aspect of their society. Always sounded like an empire to me. Just without the cliché evil aspects. From what I went over in my reading, that's not too far from the truth."

"I do like the sound of that. Is there anything new you learned?"

"The turian imperial anthem is called _'Die for the Cause.'_ Think that says a lot about them."

I laughed softly. "Yes, I have to agree with you. I'm looking forward to seeing the turian's imperialist homeworld for myself."

As with our upcoming visit to this imperial capital, I enjoyed Shepard's strength around me. How she never once let me go. How she needed to keep me close. And we spent the rest of the night together like this, eternally close in bed. Enjoying one another without going too far just yet. This prince of mine deserved to have me at all times. But I still wanted our _next_ first time to be more thematic. So she found more patience in me, and I found more in her. Supportive for life—she knew she had my heart tonight.


	50. The Machiavellian Queen

_"Urban Downunder" from Cyberpunk 2077_

**L.** The Machiavellian Queen

_(Aria T'Loak)_

Not that long ago, I used to believe people had no inherent value.

Not unless I knew them personally. Not unless they proved themselves to me.

I ran roughshod over them until they did. And even then, I still required my Scarborough Fair.

None of it was fair. But these were the lies I'd believed. These were the so-called principles I'd lived by:

If someone was beautiful, then their beauty was their only worth. If someone was powerful, their power was their only worth. If someone was an idiot, they were worth even less than the flesh on their bones for some cannibal to have a good time with. I once believed these things, completely. Because time and time again, people had done nothing but remind me how utterly useless they were. Disappointing me. Pissing me off. Breaking my heart. _Betraying me_ for no good reason other than their own fucking gain, then wondering why the hell I wanted them dead. No one should have to pretend _those people_ had value—this I still believed. No one should have to live their lives appeasing their parents to keep a roof over their head; their boss to keep living to work, just to survive; their supposed significant other whose only skill was hurting them—that much closer. All of this, I continued to believe.

We should all have the freedom to live _freely._

No boots over our necks.

No excessive rules keeping us down. No corrupt systems or corporate overlords brainwashing us.

And no ethics or morals bending us into mere pretenders, acting like we gave a damn about others.

So I used the people around me…for the most part. I used my agents, my merc groups, my club employees. And _when_ they repeated the cycle I was used to, I made an example out of them. Creatures of habit, every last one. All because I had no fucking value, either. It was why I once believed the things I did. Why I used to be so quick to judge, quick to anger. I still was, in a sense. Just not in the same ways.

I only trusted myself because I could only see myself. Only _I_ could get the job done because I only knew myself.

Aside from my daughter, and my rule over Omega…I'd had nothing before.

Until I met someone. Someone I had known about for years beforehand: from Torfan, from her N7 training. Someone who had caught my eye, making me wonder. She made me reconsider my stance—if people really had no value. If _everyone_ was worthless, then so, too, was my daughter. If every single person in the galaxy was useless, then so was this human Spectre. This Alliance hero. This honorable, capable, _radiant_ woman who had brought infinite colors into my life, painting over my black-and-white thinking with pure enlightenment.

With this new sight of mine, my perspective changed.

She helped me see how misguided I had become. A slave to my own shortcomings. Especially my ego.

She made me understand my own…flaws. How these imperfections of mine could've led to my downfall.

Because even now, sitting on my couch, my so-called throne at Afterlife, I could continue thinking things through, with my clarity. I owned this club. I owned this music blasting everywhere, entertaining my paid guests exactly as they pleased. I owned the dancers doing their thing on the walls nearby; I owned the ones strutting on the catwalk behind me, their bodies hanging from those poles. I owned every single person in here, drinking their problems away like I used to do centuries ago. I owned this station. I owned everyone walking around freely outside. I owned the streets I had recently cleaned up, now mostly free from any homeless wanderers wasting away. I owned the mercs parading around with impunity—the Blue Suns, Eclipse, and Blood Pack—all of whom were _acceptably_ loyal to me these days.

Omega had only improved insofar as I had improved myself.

Omega only thrived as much as I conquered my own failures.

Omega was only as strong as I was. I certainly realized I'd only compensated for my weaknesses before.

Along with my old beliefs—that _everyone_ was useless—I used to be paranoid. Extremely paranoid.

Forever looking over my shoulder. Distrusting every single person around me. Fighting with shadows. So my enemies once used this to their advantage. This was how they'd nearly sunk me with the plague, months ago. They'd gotten my attention with something else— _Archangel_ causing problems—only to bring the Collectors in, right under my nose, and letting them spread that disease all across the station.

That plague would have been the death of me, literally or otherwise, if Shepard hadn't shown up.

And the second I saw her, years after she'd already transfixed me…I'd found myself paranoid. As a habit, I hadn't trusted her. As my weakness, I'd tried to project strength in front of her, when I knew my whole world was about to fall apart. I knew then that I was done, and she was the only one who could help me.

Then she had the audacity to do her job and leave right afterward.

No demands, no holding the incident over my head as leverage. No request for a thank you. Nothing.

Shepard didn't give a damn about me.

I didn't matter. I was no one special. Not in any obvious ways. Not until her tactical cloak surprise…

After so many years of people kissing my ass—even when they intended on stabbing me in the back anyway—that simple treatment from her shocked me back to reality. Just like that, she put me in check.

Shepard snapped me out of my paranoia. She freed me from those shackles. She changed my mind, changed my views, changed my perspective. She made me see what my paranoia truly was. My need to rule Omega with an iron fist was just—my tacit acknowledgement of what I was. That I was no one.

This sad reality of mine made me see a lot about myself. Maybe too much. But it was necessary. So very necessary. I couldn't keep running away from the truth. For my own sake, for Liselle's sake, I couldn't.

Freed from the shackles of my paranoia, I'd replaced those chains with these new ones.

I had already turned Shepard off with my ego. And now I couldn't have her at all. I couldn't do anything.

I could do nothing but sit on my couch, absorbing Afterlife's atmosphere; waiting on my business for the day. And thinking about her. Thinking, thinking, thinking. Wanting her, needing her. I'd had so much time to think and want and need lately. I hardly needed to eat or sleep these days. My eating and sleep schedule had become unpredictable, giving me this excess time to think and think. And I knew it was because of Shepard, from her implants affecting me intermittently. Ever since Eden Prime about a week ago, I'd found my explanation for all of this extra time. This extra thinking of mine. Trying to change.

_We are who we are. People don't change._

One day, I'd show Shepard how wrong she was. She could be right about everything else. Just not this.

Interrupting my thoughts, Bray walked up the nearby steps, approaching me.

He smelled of cigarettes.

The second I turned my nose up, he stepped back. With those four eyes of his, I couldn't know where to look, where to find any possible remorse in his face. Batarians apparently used this to their advantage.

"Just got word," grunted Bray. "Liselle's ship will be here soon. After your scheduled meeting, that is."

"After the meeting, good," I approved. "I don't want her involved in anything. I'll go do what I need to do, then meet up with her at the docks. There's still a bit of time left. Have you heard anything else about my _other_ visitor? Or at least my former visitor. Nyreen hasn't shown her face for a while now."

"Nothing on my end. Far as I know, she's sticking to Talon territory, over at their main outpost."

"Hmm, interesting."

Nyreen seemed to only come around whenever Shepard was in town. Was she territorial? Too bad. Besides, she had no right to be, but I did find it amusing. To this day, my ex remained wholly predictable.

Still, I didn't want Nyreen at my club anyway. Especially not today. Not while Liselle was on her way to see me. She and I had agreed to meet up in-person every few weeks or so. Whenever she could find time off from her duties as a commando, Liselle would come home to me on Omega, or I would go visit her on Thessia. No matter what else I had on my agenda, I needed to make time for her. Just for her. My only daughter. After our many… _disagreements_ with one another in the past, this was my promise to her.

So I had to deal with this meeting before she arrived.

I didn't want my daughter anywhere near this mess. This ongoing mess with Shepard's girlfriend—with Lawson's father putting his nose where it didn't belong. His not-Cerberus people had helped me get control of the station before, after Shepard and Mordin cured the plague. But they still hadn't left. They continued scoping out around everywhere, growing bolder by the day. They expanded their search and their territory all the same, walking around as if they owned Omega themselves—or with the expectation that they soon _would_ own the station. I couldn't know for sure, since _Mr. Lawson_ himself had actually gotten in contact with me. He knew I wasn't happy with his not-Cerberus agents sniffing around my station. He tried to appease me, reassuring that his people only wanted to keep helping out.

Maybe if I'd had my old mindset, I would have accepted Henry Lawson's help. Maybe if I was paranoid over losing Omega again— _completely_ —I would have given his not-Cerberus people more freedom. And maybe I would have accepted aid from Cerberus directly. If I was desperate enough to stay in power.

For now, I'd scheduled this meeting with _Mr. Lawson._ Just to figure out his angle; what he really wanted.

I had called on his bluff by telling him to come to Omega. And he'd agreed to show his face. Supposedly.

Confirming my suspicions, Bray informed me: "Looks like _Mr. Lawson_ isn't showing up. He still wants to have the meeting with his people. Same place at the mines. They'll be there while he joins on a vid call."

"That's perfectly fine," I allowed. "This tells me everything I need to know about him. I'll handle it."

"No backup? I know you promised not to bring any. Figured we could sneak around the long way."

"No, that won't be necessary. Unlike him, I'm staying true to my word. I can take care of this myself."

Admittedly confused, Bray only watched me leave. I knew he wanted to help. To a certain extent, I appreciated his laid-back eagerness, how dedicated he was to me. Dedicated, but not over-the-top.

On my way out, I checked in with Grizz, one of my turian guards standing watch nearby.

His identity as a turian had at last come in handy. At least for the next couple of days or so.

"Aria," he greeted, knowing what this was about.

"I'm hoping for good news, Grizz," I told him. "Will your people be ready in time? Shepard and her team should be reaching Palaven quite soon. I need eyes on them ASAP. I'm expecting you to pull through."

"Yes, Boss. I'll have your extra eyes ready after the meeting."

"That's what I like to hear. I'll be in touch with you soon enough. Carry on."

Grizz kept his eyes to me as I left. Just as the rest of my people did. Just as everyone did.

I escaped those hundreds, thousands of eyes, and slipped into my secret pathways. My private tunnels. I had my peace and quiet, walking down these empty alleys and corridors. Clean enough for my purposes, as no one else ever went through here. Except Nyreen. I regretted showing her these paths years ago.

Thinking in this dark, I found my resolve for the meeting.

My resolve, my grudges from just a couple of years ago. How Cerberus had nearly gotten my daughter killed, right here on Omega, after Liselle had taken sympathy on some human. Some human I hadn't known was with Cerberus at the time. Paul Grayson, a red sand addict. Liselle had called herself liking this junkie. So she'd started dating him. Not because she'd _actually_ liked him. But because he gave her attention, and this was her way of getting back at me at the time—over our many disagreements. Whether I liked it or not, my fucking failures as a parent had driven Liselle straight into that lunatic's arms. And even though I'd hated her for humiliating me like that, I'd kept a much closer watch over her.

One day, some assassin slipped into my loft raised above Afterlife. Into my home. Right where Liselle was, in her room with Grayson, against my wishes. Again, just to piss me off. The second I found out, I ran home upstairs, hell-bent on throwing Grayson out the window myself. But when I'd arrived, I found an unexpected visitor. This assassin, Kai Leng, was about to slit Liselle's throat. Luckily, I got to him first. I'd disabled his damn biotic implants, paralyzing him. And then I'd crushed his throat, his neck with my bare hands.

Grayson had taken advantage of the confusion, running off while I'd killed that assassin. But it couldn't be helped. Liselle had been completely distraught. She'd felt betrayed by him. We'd managed to talk things through, her and I. She'd agreed to stop talking to Grayson; to stop going after these losers I didn't approve of, just to make me angry. As far as I knew, Grayson had disappeared anyway. He'd had no intentions of sticking around. But I'd been able to follow his trail. Enough to learn what I needed.

It took some digging, but I discovered that Grayson and Kai Leng worked for Cerberus.

No doubt the Illusive Man wasn't pleased with me. That assassin had been one of his top agents.

I had chosen not to mention any of it to Shepard myself. I didn't need her worrying about this shit.

But now that I'd successfully called Mr. Lawson's bluff, I had my confirmation. He and the Illusive Man meant to entrap me. They'd tried to butter me up; get me to let my guard down. This was about Cerberus. This was about Grayson, and especially about Kai Leng. This was about payback. And now, thanks to my enlightenment, I knew better than to fall for it. They presumed to know too much of me.

Cerberus would pay for what they almost did to my daughter.

They thought I'd show up to this meeting alone, unarmed with no backup, like I was vulnerable. This was my chance to catch them off-guard. This was my chance to make them pay for so much more. For whatever the fuck they planned on doing to Shepard, eventually, now that she was in bed with Lawson like this. At the same time, I trusted Shepard not to fall for anything. She was smart enough to do the right thing when it mattered. She knew how to protect herself. Yet I still wanted to protect her in my own ways. In secret.

I needed to watch over Shepard's blind spots.

Because whether she knew it or not, she did the same for me. Just in making me think. _Making me feel._

Like always, I intended on repaying my debts to her. As promised.

* * *

Nestled up at the top of Omega's crown, the mines plodded on in productivity.

Raised high, far, and wide, these catwalks kept me above the workings all around. This wide open, lightless space—only sections and sections of working stations, pieces of ore and shipments of eezo. I walked past it all, taking careful note of this production. Machines running in working order. Not too light, not too hard. No danger of burning out any time soon. And the workers around, they certainly noticed my notice, treating me as their de-facto supervisor taking a look around. They worked harder for me, knowing I spotted every little thing they did. No slacking off. I was no miner myself, but I knew how to make the most of what Omega had. I had at least some knowledge of everything across my station.

Aside from those workers, I spotted no one else around. On purpose. Treading along these narrow walkways, I felt those eyes on me. From where I was, Mr. Lawson's not-Cerberus operatives had the perfect bird's eye view, all to check for any reinforcements of mine. They found none. And I expected them to think they had the upper-hand. Of course, I would prove them wrong in the end. I always did.

Up one of the elevators, I arrived at the meeting's location. Not particularly discreet—these agents stood around a vid comm area, having waited for me to get here. Dressed up in their unmarked sets of armor, non-descript, they appeared normal. Appearances weren't everything. I maintained my own anyway.

One of them turned on the comms. Henry Lawson's holographic form showed up. Graying hair. Receding hairline. Slightly balding. Mild wrinkles. Not nearly as handsome as I thought he'd be. I wasn't sure why I expected to find a resemblance between him and his daughter. Shepard's girlfriend looked nothing like him. Then again, I remembered he'd…created her. Genetically modified her for very specific reasons.

The nice suit he had on didn't fool me, either.

Just another corporate overlord who thought his riches _made_ him someone.

"Aria," sounded Henry's voice, so superior. "I'm relieved you're here. I must apologize for the change of plans. I wasn't able to leave Earth in time to meet with you in-person. I'm sure you understand."

"Certainly," I lied. "Think nothing of it. Now what is it you wanted to discuss?"

"First, I wished to remind you: several weeks ago, my agents were quite generous. We helped to ensure all mercenary groups on Omega fell back in line. We disrupted their operations. Cut into their profits. We all but bribed them to return to your command. And they did so willingly. Together, we all reestablished order on the station. You couldn't have done this without us. I remain concerned that, should your rule fall into peril in the future, you will undoubtedly require our assistance again."

"Yes, I see why you're concerned. Tell me what you're thinking, then."

Henry locked up any subtle signs of his own lying—"I propose allowing Cerberus to aid you. With the Illusive Man's blessing, we can move in with our additional teams. We would help bolster your personal armies. All to ensure you retain control of Omega, should anything else happen in the future. You're aware of the Reapers, their imminent arrival in the future. I can promise that Cerberus would help defend your station from their attack. We simply can't allow the capital of the Terminus Systems to fall."

"That does sound like a good idea," I humored. And Henry smiled in a way he shouldn't have. "But before I agree to go along with this, I need some more information. Just one little favor in return."

"I suppose one tiny favor couldn't hurt. What information do you need?"

"There's something that's been bothering me. At least for the past couple of years. I'm not sure if you've heard, but someone went after my daughter. An assassin. I managed to kill him on my own, but I was never able to verify his identity, who he was with. I couldn't find out who ordered the hit, either. I'd like you to find out these specific details for me."

Henry's eyes darted from side to side. Nerves flaring.

He hadn't expected this from me.

And he almost stammered—"An…assassin, you say? One who nearly killed your daughter?"

_I never said he nearly killed her._

"That's right," I confirmed. "If you can get me an ID on the bastard, I'll let Cerberus in to help me out."

Henry tried to lie even more, "I-I'm familiar with this assassin. We haven't been able to turn up any evidence of him. I'm sorry. That's all I know."

I pretended to sound disappointed: "I see. Well, that's too bad. It's interesting you knew that off the top of your head. It makes me wonder what else you know. What else you're not telling me. Then again, maybe I can figure it out for myself. Perhaps you've heard that I'm paranoid. I like to do my research."

Uneasy now, his not-Cerberus agents stepped back and away. Rattled already by this confrontation.

Henry himself didn't even know what to say to me.

This little game of ours was over.

"Let me be clear," I warned him. "I know what else you're scheming out there. Buttering up your daughter, getting her to trust you again. To control her. I can tell you right now—Shepard won't fall for whatever it is you're trying to do. Her girlfriend may be desperate enough to have you back in her life. She might fall for your schemes, and the Illusive Man's. Don't you dare make the mistake of thinking I'm some pawn like your daughter is. In the end, you and your boss _will_ pay for what you're doing to her."

Henry put on his best bravado: "Aria…you ought to stop this. _Now."_

"I don't think so, _Mr. Lawson._ You should know not to mess with me. I'm showing you exactly why."

"The feeling is mutual," he scorned. "But the difference is, I know your weaknesses. You don't know mine. Take this any further and I'll find a way to end your relationship with Commander Shepard; nip it in the bud by any means necessary. I don't appreciate you throwing yourself at my daughter's partner."

I laughed at his fucking audacity.

Rather twisted, a bit deranged, I sounded; and so Henry's agents stepped away from me again. Frantic, they looked around. Checking to make absolutely certain I had no backup with me. So damn pointless.

"Please—don't delude yourself! You can't control me. You want to talk blackmail? Sure, let's go there."

"This isn't blackmail," tried Henry, sweating now through the vid. "I'm merely stating a fact! I have the logs the Illusive Man sent me. How you interacted with Shepard aboard the _Normandy_ before Eden Prime. The way you brazenly lusted after the commander behind her back. It's painfully obvious!"

"Logs, you say? That sounds perfect. Let's talk some more about logs, my dear Henry. Because I have some logs of my own. Or rather, a few records of the ones _you_ own. I know your daughter used to be a dominatrix back in the day. She would film some of her scenes with her clients. Does this ring a bell?"

"Aria, you—I haven't the faintest idea what you're…"

His pathetic denials.

Absolutely disgusting.

I knew exactly who he was. _What he was._

And he was lucky he wasn't here in-person. Otherwise—

"Oh, yes you do," I goaded. "I'm aware a few of her clients sent those vids to you. And that you paid these clients to send them along. You requested the vids. _Specifically._ I know you get off to them. Watching your daughter fuck other people—no, _dominate_ them. You get off to her. Knowing you made her; deluding yourself into believing she belongs to you. That she's your property. Isn't that right?"

He couldn't even muster a response.

Horrified, Henry's not-Cerberus agents looked to one another. They wanted to bail. I knew they did.

"After all, that's why you created her in the first place. You wanted the perfect woman all to yourself. No woman in the right mind would actually go for you. You have your riches, your legacy to leave behind. And yet the prospect of dying, old and alone, terrifies you to no end. So that's what she's for. Your own daughter. You tried to groom her—I know you did. Taking advantage of how naïve she was…and still is. If you could just get her to want you, make her think it's perfectly fine, then you'd be golden. How many times a day do you think about it, hm? Did you ever try to come onto her? Sneak into her room when she was a little girl, or a teenager? Do you still fantasize about raping her? _Putting her in her place—?"_

Enraged and defeated, Henry cut all communications.

His agents just stared at where that hologram had been. Terrified, mortified. Absolutely disgusted.

As they should have been.

"All of you," I said, snapping their attention to me. "Do whatever you want from here on out. Keep working for him or don't—it doesn't matter to me. Just get the hell off my station and don't come back."

They didn't need me to tell them twice.

Every single one of them ran off. Back down the elevator, down the walkways. From this vantage point, I watched as they made their way to the docking area. I expected them to heed my advice. And I expected Cerberus to stay the fuck away from Omega from now on. That revolting little man couldn't get anywhere near me. The Illusive Man had nothing else on me, either. _We were done._ No more of this.

* * *

Not too far from the docks, I arrived at my own private area. A little hiding spot of mine. Just a nice, clean balcony overlooking Omega's skyline. I sat on this bench, raised above the sights below, the rest of Omega at work and at pleasure down there. Relaxing while I waited for Liselle's transport to get here, I had this time to myself. And I felt so at ease. I felt at home, like I belonged. Omega was the only place that would always welcome me, no matter what. Regardless of whatever happened in this galaxy, I could count on my station. I could always come back home to this chaos, this freedom under my rule.

After that last meeting, I found that my One Rule on Omega still applied.

Cerberus should have never fucked with me.

But I couldn't trust that the Illusive Man would fully learn his lesson. I considered upgrading Omega's outer defenses. Just in case. The actual station itself—the population—was much better off these days. It was no use unless I could protect them from every type of invader. Cerberus _and_ the Reapers, too.

Beyond this peace, I felt the difference. I felt the lack.

_Something was missing._

Every time I stared out to this ethereal light of the skyline, I remembered.

I thought of her.

I could never stop myself from seeing the metaphors. Seeing her in this light. In every light throughout the galaxy. And it unnerved me, every fucking time. I remembered the feeling of Shepard's arms around me—how surprisingly protective she was. Ever since then, I'd felt like this. Heart palpitating. Short of breath. This fluttering feeling in my chest, so damn ridiculous. I felt it all the time. It distracted the hell out of me, but I couldn't keep fighting it anymore. I'd had to learn to live with it. No other options.

With that in mind, I contacted Grizz via omni-tool.

He had his contacts on Palaven, specifically to help me keep an eye on Shepard and her team. The contacts were all military officers. Police. A few random civilians. Finding the right live feed, I tuned in to these sights. These sights of the turian homeworld I hadn't seen in quite some time. Not in years.

I still remembered these sights plain as day. This silver world of fortresses and fire. All from Cipritine, the Imperial Capital of Palaven, and good old Garrus Vakarian's hometown. Palaven's weak magnetic field made for a poor shield against its sun's rays. In turn, it seemed like everything on the planet had formed their own metal carapaces in defense. Silvers everywhere. Fortifications as the necessary protections from the harsh sun, each as historic monuments of Palaven's martial society. Compared to Thessia, the turian homeworld looked and felt incredibly hard and durable. Just like the turian military. Imperialistic.

I could never understand why the turians had such a hard-on, literally, for public service. That whole ideology: the needs of the many over the individual. Honor and duty. It made the turians terrible entrepreneurs, since they were just that bad at looking out for their own interests. So they'd had to enlist the volus as a client race to help stimulate their economy, to great effect over the years. But their imperialistic honor made it so the military encapsulated their society. Luckily for me, the troops and police and officers were stationed everywhere. They remained close enough for my liking—all to capture the landing of a certain _Normandy_ frigate, arriving to the silver planet in the middle of the day. This feed unfortunately wasn't of the best quality, but it would have to do for the time being.

When I'd visited Palaven myself, I refused to go out during the daytime. Only at night. I hated having to wear full armor for any damn reason. Nightfall allowed more normal freedoms. I preferred the moonlight anyway.

Completely foreign to me, Shepard's team exited the ship while wearing full armor and helmets.

I spotted that tall, tall figure in her N7 armor. Holding hands with her girlfriend in Cerberus colors.

And I watched her the whole time.

I kept my eyes on her, those N7 designations of hers. Everything about her.

I wasn't sure how or why…but something seemed a little off. Did Shepard have something pressing on her mind today? Was she upset for some reason? I almost thought I was just seeing things. I had every reason to doubt myself—Lawson next to her was quite busy speaking with someone else next to her. Maybe Jack, since she was so short, and Zaeed, since I recognized that ridiculous gait of his. Meanwhile, Shepard kept to herself. She didn't appear to interact with them, or with anyone else for that matter.

Back on Eden Prime the other day, I couldn't get an accurate read on her. Shepard prided herself on that impenetrable persona of hers. For good reason. I hadn't been able to spot anything obvious, anything wrong. But I'd had a prickling feeling that all wasn't well on her end—before, during, and after the mission. As I hadn't spent much time in her company yet, I figured maybe this was normal. Maybe this was just her way of staying focused for the mission. Maintaining appearances for her team. But seeing her like this now—presumably while on shore leave—made me reconsider those assumptions of mine.

Seeing her like this…it made my chest clench. Tightening in this specific agony. Hurting for her.

Mindful of Shepard's disquieting mood, I listened in as Garrus gave everyone a history lesson:

 _"Most of us have these colored marks over our faces for a reason,"_ he explained. _"It's a holdover from our Unification Wars, years back. Our homeworld fought against a bunch of our isolated, xenophobic colonies. The colors signify someone's colony and loyalties. A turian who doesn't have any marks over their face—well, people tend not to trust them. Sometimes they get called 'barefaced' as an insult."_

 _"Huh, no wonder,"_ mentioned Jack. _"I just thought you guys painted your faces for fun. Had no idea it was this huge culture thing. All these military people around, too. You turians sure love your damn wars."_

The Prothean—named Javik, apparently—chimed in, _"They have evolved significantly from centuries before. In my cycle, the turians were just learning of their penchant for war and battle. I have come to respect your people, Vakarian. Palaven is a world of tradition and honor. For the ruthless and the war-minded. When conflict is unavoidable, you practice 'total war' to annihilate your enemy, all to prevent fighting the same foes twice. This is similar to how the Prothean Empire engaged in non-Reaper wars."_

Garrus sounded surprised, _"Oh—well, thanks, Javik. If my people were like yours, I'll have to take that as a compliment. I think. Did I…ever mention I'm not really a good turian? Not one for the whole tradition and honor thing. I tend to do my own thing. Like serving under a human captain on a team full of aliens."_

Vaguely still listening to the back and forth, I kept my eye on Shepard, despite the grainy vid quality.

She stared up at the tall, structured, asymmetrical skyscrapers of silver they passed by. Like something out of a conceptual art show. Those dramatic, sharply-angled structures had always fascinated me as well. I was pleased to see Shepard appreciated them as much as I did. She was the only one who stared up in awe: up at the buildings, up at the many skycars whirring past. No one else really took in the sights.

Seeing her curiosities reminded me of my own, from years ago.

Nyreen had taken me to Palaven, to this same city of Cipritine years ago. All for some romantic getaway. Though it hadn't been all that romantic. Or much of a getaway for that matter. The two of us had been arguing at the time. Non-stop. This vacation was supposed to bring us back together. But all it ended up doing was making things worse. We'd spent most of the trip apart. And I'd expected to be angry at Nyreen for bothering with this shit; for guilt-tripping me over not wanting to be around her. That wasn't what happened. The whole time…I dealt with something I could only describe as a profound sadness.

As my chest tightened even more, I wondered if Shepard had caught the same sadness I'd left behind.

She and her team arrived to some fancy hotel called the Kingsglaive, raised from the earth as a magnificent titan of structured silver.

But as soon as they went inside, I lost eyes on them.

I called Grizz immediately.

_"Aria, I can explain—"_

"Don't fucking explain a thing," I ordered. "Just tell me—can you fix the problem or not?"

_"I can't get anyone inside that hotel, Boss! It's too expensive—"_

Raging, I hung up on him.

Of course Shepard's unpretentious wealth would cause problems for me. She'd probably picked the Kingsglaive _because_ of the tighter security. Not just the fancy living. But I had a backup plan of my own.

This time, I called the Citadel—straight to the asari councilor's direct line in her office.

Tevos answered in record time, _"Yes, Aria. Good day. What can I do for you?"_

"Tevos. Perhaps you're aware why I'm calling. Commander Shepard and her team are on Palaven."

_"…I'm not at liberty to discuss the commander's specific whereabouts."_

I rolled my eyes. "Drop the act. You know I'm not some fucking terrorist tracking her location. I was with her on Eden Prime, which you also know already. I'm a guest on her team. Don't make this difficult."

Tevos paused.

I hated when she did this. I knew what was coming.

_"Normally, Aria, I would have no qualms carrying out your wishes. You have provided exceedingly valuable intelligence on the Terminus Systems for the Council. Asari High Command also has you to thank for providing reports on escaped criminals on Omega, both from Thessia and our many colonies. But Commander Shepard's safety is a matter of galactic security. Her business is restricted to those with Tentron-level clearance only. Need I remind you, this level of security clearance is strictly for—"_

Irate, I interjected, "It's strictly for the Council, Asari High Command, and your top-level aides— _I know!"_

Despite my efforts, Tevos heard the rare emotion in my voice.

She made me wait again.

She listened to this uneven raggedness to my breathing. My impatience. My fucking pain.

_"Let's not allow this to devolve into threats and strong-arming. Tell me what this is really about."_

"What the hell do you _think_ this is about?!"

_"Aria, please. I need your honesty. If I'm going to make this exception, then you must explain yourself."_

"Damnit, Tevos," I raged. "I'm not with Shepard right now. I need eyes on her! I need to know where she is at all times. _I don't trust Cerberus._ I don't trust the people around her! I keep expecting the Illusive Man to pull something stupid any day now. I keep imagining Shepard's girlfriend stabbing her in the back! Every second that passes with her _gone_ like this, it's less fucking control I have! It's pissing me off!"

Even though the truth killed me, Tevos understood. _"You are afraid of losing her, then. Is that it?"_

I closed my eyes. The memory of Shepard's gorgeous face burned over my eyelids. Tempering me.

"…I can't lose her. Not now. Not ever."

That calm, collected voice of hers nearly stabbed me— _"Are you in love with Commander Shepard?"_

Like bracing myself for a roller coaster, I grit my teeth.

I set my jaw.

And I sat completely still in my seat. Frozen still while this ride took me up and down and around. This ride of my emotions, unstable and uneven, while the asari councilor kept listening to me. She listened to my silence. She listened to my struggles, how hard I fought to constrict them. But these damned feelings of mine kept sending me for a loop, over and over again. So pleasant and potent and painful, pulling at the boundaries of my chest. Expanding everything I'd ever felt and known before. Just…enlightening.

Wordless, Tevos typed at the computer over her desk.

I heard the sounds of her keystrokes. I listened to her focus. Her determination, her decision for me.

Then I received an email from her, with Tevos' official explanation. She had extended this Tentron-level security clearance to me. But only with matters concerning Commander Shepard and the _Normandy._

I expected a trade-off somehow. The asari councilor's permissions never came cheap.

Just like that, Tevos linked my omni-tool with a new live feed.

Far superior to Grizz's bootleg camera access, I saw the interior of the Kingsglaive with the utmost clarity. Almost as if I was there myself, in-person, basking in the turians' impressive silver interior and experimental décor. In the midst of the hotel's rotunda, I found Shepard in her N7 armor. I watched the gallantry of her movements, almost like walking next to her. Almost like being around her all over again, I felt the start of this calm. My frazzled nerves sat down and settled. My breaths evened out, quieting. I felt this crease of my brows loosen and lighten. And my heartbeats fell to normal—normal for what they always were, whenever I observed Shepard like this. But this was enough. It was more than enough.

Tevos informed me: _"I've connected you with the Council's own VI. This VI is designed to connect with any cameras within the commander's immediate area. Unbeknownst to the Illusive Man, this also includes the surveillance aboard the Normandy. Councilor Anderson came up with the idea. And though we don't use the VI ourselves, it should prove useful in emergencies. Were we to somehow lose Commander Shepard, this VI would allow us to find her again. You may use it at your convenience."_

Fucking hell. I could keep watch on Shepard aboard her ship? This sounded…exceedingly generous.

I checked the available cameras for myself. Every single area of the _Normandy_ was available for me to view. The bridge, the CIC, the armory, the lab, the entirety of the crew deck, including everyone's rooms and offices— _even Lawson's bedroom_ —the whole engineering deck, the cargo hold, and their shuttle.

Everything except the bathrooms, and Shepard's private cabin, I now had full access to view at any time.

Seriously, this almost seemed too good to be true.

Knowing better, I strained myself to say, "Thank you, Councilor."

Tevos seemed to smile on her end. _"You're welcome, Aria. Your gratitude is most appreciated."_

I observed as Shepard and her team went up an elevator, probably up to their hotel rooms. And I found myself with a smile of my own. Grumpy and aloof, Shepard had her arms folded. She stood in a corner of the packed elevator; her teammates practically bounced around with excitement in comparison, talking about the fun times they wanted to share on Palaven together. Shepard's annoyance mirrored the same I would've had, were I stuck in her position. But she put up with it for everyone's sake. I liked that a lot.

My babe was such a closeted sweetheart.

Shepard was similar to me, but just different enough to challenge me. She truly broadened my horizons.

"Now what do you want from me in return? You didn't just do this out of the kindness of your heart."

 _"I still need to think on this,"_ said Tevos, surprising me. _"If it's all right with you, we can discuss the matter when you next visit the Citadel. I'm of the mind to recruit you for a more sensitive matter. One involving the commander's safety. I believe we can come to an appropriate arrangement together."_

"Do you plan on asking me to look after her?"

_"Officially, yes. You wouldn't need to report to me. This would simply be for our own peace of mind."_

I expected more. "That doesn't sound too bad, actually. What are you holding back?"

_"Again, I'll need to consider the details. Whenever you decide to stop by the Citadel, I'll have everything figured out. We'll meet in my office for a conversation. Suffice to say, the other councilors share my concerns and yours about Cerberus, the Illusive Man. Asari High Command also has grave concerns. Having you as a guest on Commander Shepard's team should prove invaluable in the long-run."_

"Works for me," I accepted. "I'll let you know when I have time to visit. Maybe next month or so."

 _"I understand, Aria,"_ she allowed. _"That will give me time to finalize the details. Thank you. As a final note, we still have that Cerberus 'VIP' in custody. His trial should be over once you arrive to the Citadel. I'm sure you can assume what we've learned about Cerberus from his confessions. Nonetheless, I expect this judge to sentence him with the death penalty. We will leave him for you to handle—unofficially."_

This Cerberus VIP—the man who ordered the hit on Liselle way back when.

"That sounds wonderful," I praised. "I'm looking forward to getting my revenge."

_"Of course. Everything will be ready for you. Is there anything else I can help with?"_

I didn't want to have to say this: "Tevos, you've been oddly flexible today. Do you feel sorry for me?"

 _"Not at all,"_ she insisted, genuine. _"I suspected your feelings for the commander long ago. However subtle, obscure. It simply helps me to have confirmation. As always, this talk will stay between us."_

"And just how the hell did you _suspect_ this about me? It's not something I choose to advertise!"

Tevos knew me better than that.

_"Aria, you and I had our trysts together. Years ago, when I met my bondmate, I explained to you we could continue no longer. You grew angry with me. Exceptionally angry. And then the news about Torfan emerged. The tale of the Alliance hero: a rising star in the human military. The lone infiltrator who survived that harrowing mission on her own, sniping her way to victory. You were in my office when the news appeared on the vid screen. I'll never forget the look in your eyes. When you first saw Shepard for yourself, her scowling face on that screen, your anger with me vanished. You didn't need to say why."_

…

 _"All the galaxy is a stage,"_ riddled Tevos. _"And we are merely players, each with our parts to play and fulfill. You have made the rare decision to place Commander Shepard's needs before your own. Something tells me your role with her will prove to be momentous. Perhaps the most pivotal of them all. Yet only time will tell. Good luck to you, Aria. And may your patience prove true. Goddess be with you."_

When Tevos hung up, she left me in the empty vacuum of this eternal void.

My partners from centuries past had certainly disappointed me. And then there was Nyreen, incinerating my hatreds for love and relationships for good. So I'd moved up to fucking the most powerful asari in the galaxy after that. I'd only wanted to keep things casual between us. Favors for favors. Fond, but not in love. But Tevos had wanted more from me. Too much more. She'd known then that she wasn't the one who could _fix me._ No matter how hard she'd tried. The decision she'd made to run off with her now-bondmate instead, leaving me behind…it snapped something in me, then. It reminded me of all the ways Nyreen and everyone before her had ruined me. Made me hate. Made it harder for me to trust.

I had remained sexually sober ever since. With other people, anyway.

Because I knew the real truth—no one could compare to that scowling marine in her Alliance uniform.

I tuned back into the live feed. Shepard and Lawson had arrived to their hotel room some time ago. Relaxing already, setting up her private terminal on a desk, Lawson had removed her armor, having changed back to her usual skintight uniform. Shepard kept her N7 armor on, as if she intended to leave.

They spoke on about their plans for the day:

 _"Leaving so soon?"_ asked Lawson, loving and languid. _"I thought we could spend some time together…"_

Shepard caught her meaning, and yet— _"Tali already asked to meet up with me today. You remember she's been acting strange lately. I wanted to talk things through with her. Just to make sure we don't have any other awkward encounters. We might be working together again pretty soon. Garrus will probably want to bring her along for his personal business tomorrow. I should take care of this now."_

_"Mmm, that sounds wise. All right. You're still on the hook for tomorrow, then. This room is too gorgeous for us not to use properly. We should take advantage of the luxury here, don't you think?"_

_"I feel you, babe. Don't worry about it. What else did you plan on doing?"_

_"Well, since you'll be out, I'll likely go visit EDI and Legion. Perhaps Thane or Jack will want to tag along with us as well. I do hope we'll have a more enjoyable, productive time once the sun goes down."_

_"Sounds good. Just call or message me if you need anything. I'll see you later on tonight."_

Luckily for me, Shepard only gave Lawson a hug. Her armor and helmet were thankfully still in the way. I wasn't in the best state of mind to watch them kiss. Or do anything more than that. Not just yet. But I wanted to…later on. Mostly to satisfy my own curiosity. I wanted to see _directly_ how Shepard handled another woman in bed. She had scores of women hooked on her. Myself included. So I needed to see what she was all about. I needed to bask in my delusions for a while; fantasize about her taking me.

Besides, Lawson was still pissing me off. And not really for the obvious reasons.

Like I could hear it in Shepard's voice—something was off about her. Stoicism, the depths of her tones. _Whatever._ I wasn't fooled. There was more going on with her, and no one could tell me otherwise.

As Shepard left the room, my view of her followed.

Out in the hallway, she left back to the elevator.

Yet as she went, this uncanny sense passed through her. Clairvoyant. Instinctual. All-knowing.

Through the eyesight of her helmet, Shepard stared right into the nearest camera. Straight at me. She sharpened her gaze, so severe, as if looking directly into my eyes. As if she knew I watched her. And if she knew, Shepard stared at me uncensored anyway. Simmering with heat— _she fucking wanted me._

But then she kept on walking.

The camera angle changed.

Shepard continued with her business, continued with her day.

Somehow, I seemed to stay at the back of her mind anyway.

Letting out this exhale, I noticed the time. Liselle's transport was about to arrive at the docks. So I turned off my surveillance, for now, and left to go meet my daughter. Switching mindsets, I couldn't let Liselle see me as anything less than prepared. I didn't need her _noticing_ and asking too many questions.

* * *

Standing at the docks, I watched my daughter's ship pull in. Soon I would see my bundled hopes and dreams walking through this docking bay. And just like every other time I'd done this, I had no idea how to feel. Liselle and I had been on this path for the past few years now. Trying to fix our relationship. Trying to get along…for the first time, really. Before Kai Leng happened, we'd never gotten along in the first place. Liselle had been frank with me, sharing her thoughts on how I'd treated her before. I'd only viewed her as a direct representation and reflection of myself. I'd expected her to make me look better by proxy. I had dumped those responsibilities over her shoulders, all to validate me. To make up for my shortcomings.

I'd fooled around with Liselle's 'other mother' strictly for the sake of having my own daughter. Having my daughter, to me, had been a way to leave behind my legacy. Liselle reminded me of my mortality.

Those reminders hadn't inspired much motherly warmth from me.

Over two centuries of treating her that way:

This could not, would not vanish after only two or three years of healing. Tepid healing. Lukewarm.

But the moment I saw her again, everything seemed right. Everything seemed like it was finally okay.

Wearing her light armor out of habit, all-black, Liselle walked over to me. This clear family resemblance between us had forever filled me with pride. Just as it did now. She was a little shorter than me, but the two of us were nearly identical in appearance. Seeing these same ice blue eyes looking back at me; seeing the exact same markings over her face, the same violet of her skin, and even this version of my ego and attitude manifesting through her… Liselle made me so emotional sometimes. At times like these. Yet I refused to show it. I would _never_ show these feelings to anyone. Especially not in public. But the feelings stayed with me all the same, as these tender harmonies, softening me. I knew Liselle could see them in my eyes. No one else could. I refused to express anything more. And that was my problem.

Liselle stopped right in front of me.

Everyone else around went about their way. They somehow didn't notice us.

I was glad they didn't. Otherwise they would've seen this near-defeat in Liselle's face. Her disappointment in me, in the way I just…looked at her. I didn't know what to say, what to do. Just like every other time we did this, I completely blanked. Any other parent would know how to treat their own child. Anyone else would know the perfect words to say, the perfect way to behave. They would have that warmth I absolutely lacked. They would know how to express the love in their heart. Of course I felt it. Of course it was here with me. But my same old problems persisted. My same old handicaps came up, from never having witnessed positive displays of love while growing up. That lack continued to limit me.

"Hey," said Liselle, not really meeting my eyes. "So…I'm here."

I glanced around, too. "That you are."

Stubborn, more adept than me—Liselle walked into me as a hug. She held onto me like this. She held me tighter in her determination. Still trying to teach me what I'd never learned on my own. Tentative, uncertain, I returned her hold. The moment I did, I felt Liselle's smile against my shoulder. This one, small thing from her filled me with more emotions. So many more emotions I could never, ever express.

Just like always, my daughter was my anchor.

Liselle reminded me of my… _humanity._

When we pulled away, I asked, "Are you hungry? Do you want to get something to eat?"

"Yeah, I'd like that," replied Liselle. But she had her conditions: "Can we go somewhere normal this time? Not some hyper-secure place. I just want to hang out with you. I don't want to feel paranoid."

"Sure, that's fine," I allowed. "We can go to Fortune's Den. They've cleaned up their act these days."

Softly surprised, Liselle smiled again. That ice of her eyes glimmered every time she did. So easily.

Whenever I saw this light, I didn't feel like such a failure of a mother after all.

Liselle and I walked down the block to Fortune's Den. We soon arrived to the building, skipping the long line and heading right past the bouncers. Back in the day, this place used to be a seedy bar and gambling den, owned by some unsavory characters. But the owners had switched hands to a few batarians on my payroll. They'd tidied the place up; helped clean the stink out from the area. The previous owner, a volus named Olthar, and his krogan 'pet' bouncer—their heads remained mounted on the wall behind the bar. Certainly morbid, yes, but it served as a cautionary tale. The sight discouraged my enemies from ever trying to storm the place; from encroaching on my territory. The rest of the bar was perfectly normal.

As Liselle sat down with me at a table, we looked around. I spotted a group batarians playing dice in a corner. A few volus played some kind of backgammon game. A number of humans played cards while a shifty-eyed salarian dealer watched on. No quasar machines. _Too easy to hack, too expensive to repair._

A waitress came over to our table, wordlessly setting a pair of mugs in front of us. I put in our order, already knowing what I wanted to eat; already knowing what Liselle wanted. Fortune's Den unfortunately didn't have the means for the automatic serving kiosks, the ones regular restaurants usually had. We didn't really have anything like that on Omega. More importantly, I noticed something about this waitress, as well as the other ones throughout the building. They no longer wore tracking devices around their ankles. Along with the new management, I'd ordered them to get rid of those policies: keeping anyone as slaves or indentured servants to work off debt. That practice had never really worked as intended—at least not on Omega. The worst scumbags would just find random charges to keep adding to their indentured servant's tab, essentially keeping them enslaved forever. No more.

Not after I'd learned more about Shepard's culture. Human history… My ignorance had astounded me.

And when the food arrived, I noticed my diminished appetite already.

Liselle noticed I didn't really want to eat. I didn't know how to explain myself to her. This was the first time I'd seen her—after meeting Shepard back then. From the first fucking day we'd met, I spotted this change about me. And then I'd started having strange, half-lucid dreams. Dreams about wandering some endless metropolis, filled with dark, brooding buildings like the ones from Shepard's hometown.

The fact remained that I couldn't eat as much as I wanted.

And Liselle took it personally. "What's wrong? You're not hungry anymore?"

Trying to placate her, I made myself eat anyway. Even though I hated this feeling. Like sending wet cement into an already-filled-and-dried landfill. Putting more and more on top of too much, _too much._

On top of all that, I felt myself getting distracted.

I resisted the urge to check on Palaven. To check on Shepard. To make sure she was still all right.

"What's up with you?" asked Liselle, worried this time. "Ever since the plague hit, you've been different. Like you're off on some other planet. Did something else happen back then? Other than the usual?"

"It's possible," I obfuscated. "What makes you think I'm different, anyway?"

"I don't know. I can't put my finger on it. I've just—never seen you like this before."

"Well, would you say this is a positive change? Or a negative one."

Liselle noticed, "You're not denying it. So I'd say it's a good thing. Whatever you're doing, stick with it."

"Hmm, maybe I will," I accepted, glad that she approved.

Despite my daughter's approval, I couldn't do anything more than this. I couldn't actually explain the whole story to her. I still couldn't go through with that type of thing. Making myself that vulnerable in front of her. Showing that kind of weakness. I refused to do it. The thought absolutely mortified me.

But…this did seem like a positive change.

Not just for me, but for Liselle as well. She smiled more as we spoke. This tension in the air subsided.

Maybe this new perspective of mine would help in other ways. Bringing the two of us closer together.

If that was the case, then I'd have an easier time accepting these changes. I once scorned the idea of change, after all. I didn't like it before. I used to believe change was unreliable. That unknown, that lack of control—I just had to get used to it. I welcomed the unintended side-effects: my enlightenment, my freedom from past paranoia. And now the more frequent gifts of Liselle's joy, still tempered for the time being.

* * *

Back home at my loft above Afterlife, I entered the front door with my daughter. Faint sounds of the club's booming music reached us, as it always did. Winding down in-sync with one another, we let our automatic guards down. Those same defenses we had from being outside. Around other people. Or just out on Omega, where admittedly anything could've happened. Perfect security in and around the club downstairs; even more fortifications up here. We had nothing to worry about. We had our peace.

On the table by the door, I found a surprise. Bray had left my hand-delivered mail here. I didn't get regular mail very often. I found it odd, but I just took the letter with me, without looking at the sender yet. Instead, I looked around the loft, this entrance room. That same enflamed color scheme and styling from Afterlife reached up to my home. Same architecture. Same ambiance all around. Just…calmer, and much quieter than downstairs. Afterlife used to have several more floors and landings, leading all the way up to this area. When I took over, I'd decided that much access was a security risk. After all, it was how I'd managed my own hostile takeover from Patriarch, the previous owner I kept around as an example.

I'd made the appropriate renovations, turning this upper space into a loft. To distinguish the area some more, I'd added the extra ambiance of this violet-tinted light all around. I enjoyed the aesthetics. But I'd left a few holdovers from the previous layout: mostly the full bar nearby, working double duty as my kitchen area. The black leather furniture remained indistinguishable from the same downstairs, not to mention my special couch along my perch. And the sound system hooked up to the vid screens throughout the house: these were especially flawless. We had the full immersion, the full experience.

Tired from her trip, Liselle retreated to her bedroom in her wing of the loft. We didn't need to say anything. I understood she needed her space. She quietly slipped inside and shut the door behind her.

I went to my own bedroom in the separate wing, on the other side.

From this angle of the entrance, the first thing I saw was my adjacent bathroom. The hot tub took up most of the space in there. And it certainly looked enticing. I decided I would go relax there in a little bit. For now, I walked over to my queen-sized bed. I passed by the chaise lounge sofa I had. My nightstands at either side of my bed. One had a copy of _The Prince,_ translated to the asari language. The other had Shepard's sexy fashion magazines—in print, as I had painstakingly acquired a few days ago. Despite knowing about her since Torfan, I remembered my aversions before. How I'd resisted actually looking into her life. Trying not to get too involved, too addicted. I had abstained for as long as I could…until I met her in-person for myself. After that, the dam broke loose. And now I remained obsessed with her.

I stared out my tall windows, overlooking the boulevard leading to Afterlife. That line of people waiting to get inside my club—never-ending as always. Business booming, credits flowing. Just the way I liked it.

Sitting down over my bed, I turned my attention to this letter.

This handwritten letter…apparently from none other than Nyreen.

She must have decided against sending me an email, knowing I wouldn't respond. I couldn't blame her.

Frowning over her persistence, I read Nyreen's decent attempt at writing in my language:

_Aria,_

_Did I surprise you with this letter? I hope so._

_I was going to pay you another visit at Afterlife. But I've decided to put it off for now. I know you're busy. I've heard word about your machinations on Palaven. You remember I'm a veteran. I still have my contacts among my old Cabals back on my homeworld. I also know Garrus has been on the hunt for Sidonis, the turian who betrayed him during his Archangel days. Sidonis knows he's a dead man walking, and he's in full-blown panic mode. And I know you have your own plants within my peoples' military, keeping an eye on Commander Shepard and her team. I wish I could say I was surprised, myself. But I'm not. Not one bit._

_I remember that feeling. When you would raise hell, privately, to make sure you had eyes on me at all times. I managed to find out what you were up to. It made me feel wanted. Like that was your own special way of saying you loved me. You never told me the actual words. This was as close as I could get._

_You hate loving people because it makes you vulnerable. But you hate losing them even more. So maybe you feel protective of the commander. You don't want to lose her. That's how I know it's serious._

_Do you remember when I last took you to Palaven with me, years ago? It was for our romantic getaway. We had been arguing a lot, as usual. Back then, I wanted things to be different. I had hope that the two of us could work things out. I actively imagined being that other parent in your daughter's life. I was going to propose; ask you to be my bondmate, as it goes on Thessia with your people. I thought that, maybe, if I just committed myself to you completely, things could finally work out between us._

_But I also recall the exact picture one night. You and I had gone to the mountains together, at the south peaks. I'll never forget that image of you. The way you stared out at those mountains while the moonlight from Menae shone down on us. There was this profound sadness about you, well past the carapace of your pride. I didn't see it that clearly at the time. Every time I think back on it, I scold myself for not spotting it sooner. I want to say you were secretly depressed. You had become a professional at masking your truest feelings with anger. You were unhappy with me; unhappy in our relationship. I should have known it then. The fact that I didn't…well, that says a lot. I must've broken your heart more, just because I didn't notice. Because I didn't know how to look. Because I was so focused on your veneer, I couldn't see your real truth. I didn't see you the same way you saw me._

_I'm finding the same sort of delayed revelations these days. Up until recently, I had our hopes for us again. It was foolish of me, I know. I just figured, maybe enough time had gone by. Maybe you would be open to us trying again. When we finally talked, you told me it was too late. I believed you right away._

_Not to mention, you've found the perfect woman. Meeting her in-person, you've found that perfect combination. All the romantic what-ifs to imagine, to insulate you in such warm feelings, keeping you safe. So many emotions for someone who's completely unavailable. Someone you never have to 'officially' worry about losing, because she will never belong to you in the first place. Someone you can love from afar while still keeping up appearances. Someone who will never argue with you; someone who will never truly hurt you. Someone that no one can ever hurt or take away from you, since the commander can take care of herself. Above all, most importantly, she will never let you down. She'll never try to change you._

_The two of you get to be partners from a distance. The perfect distance for the perfect woman._

_Realizing the extent of things now, I must admit to some sadness on my end. Sadness…and a lot of heartbreak, all over again. I brought this on myself. I accept that. I still wish you the best with Commander Shepard. I don't want you to repeat my same mistakes. To that end, I encourage you to share your feelings with her, honestly. Because I know these recent, positive changes on Omega didn't come about from you listening to me. The commander used to be an orphan on Earth's streets. As protective and maternal as you are—in your own ways—I see exactly why you've made these improvements for your people. You've finally cleansed Omega's moral bankruptcy. It's incredible._

_Your protective instincts with her are powerful. They will lead you to great things, Aria. I just know it. You should keep Shepard close. Whatever that means. Keep her safe on this suicide mission and beyond. No one can ever really rip Shepard from your arms in that way. So perhaps this is all a blessing in disguise. Whatever heartache you might feel for her, over this situation, I feel it, too. I feel this pain every day, knowing that my words no longer evoke anything in you. Or maybe only hatred. As I deserve. So be it._

_Loving you, always,_

_Nyreen_

.

I set the letter down on my nightstand.

I placed it far enough away from my print magazines. Away from Shepard's beauty on those glossy covers. The pages within were my source of nightly pornography to get me off, and then some. She inspired my imagination to go wild.

I took off my clothes and went to my bathroom. Preparing my hot tub in the center, I made up my mind on how to proceed. I had no other choice, really. If I looked away from Shepard now, I'd never find my answers. I'd never satisfy my cravings. I'd never know why I felt this strongly for her; why I felt equally as stubborn about staying on this path. All for seemingly no personal gain to me. I hated doing things when there was no obvious payoff or benefit. If I didn't get anything out of it, then why bother? But with her…

With her, that whole concept went clear out the window.

Settling in the heated comfort of the water, I sighed in relaxation. I relaxed more as I opened my omni-tool. I checked back in with Shepard, picking up on her current location again. And I found her out and about in the city, still wearing her N7 armor. She roamed the town with that cute little quarian engineer.

Tali'Zorah.

_Tali._

Why did it feel like I'd met her before? Like I had seen her actual face. Like I had laughed over her pouting attitude toward me.

Did I know Tali from somewhere else?

I'd felt this same sensation toward Joker, Garrus, Alenko. Lawson to some extent. Little Liara, too, even though she was supposed to be dead. I had never met her while she was still alive. I only knew her from Liselle's occasional tales. Shy, awkward, intelligent, and a pretty face. Yet I somehow knew her voice. I could've sworn I'd spoken to Liara in a board room of some kind. I remembered acting a little bitchy toward her in a recent waking dream. Like I envied her position on the board. We were all executives. And she was the VP. The Vice President who was due to return to the living somehow, someway. One of the most powerful women in that city, that world, holding the captain's purest esteem. The more time passed, the more my memories of this waking dream slipped away. Yet I could never forget that fucking envy.

To top it all off, there were my recurring dreams at night.

My dreams where I would wake up right here in my bedroom. Every time, Shepard would come in to greet me. Coming in, yes. She knew exactly how to turn me out and come inside of me, just as I craved. She satisfied me in ways I'd never imagined possible. Though if I felt more _patient_ that night, then Shepard would take me out on a date first. Such sweeping, romantic dates all across the city, where she was so much more expressive than in real-life. Far more open with her passions for me; never holding them inside, yet still charming me all the same with her demonstrativeness. During our dates, we would have such spirited debates. Intellectual stimulation all night long. Shepard challenged me on my beliefs, spurring me to push past my rigid perceptions, to open my mind. And when she initially arrived to my loft, she would sometimes have a handsome suit on. Or another all-black outfit, especially with those leather pants of hers, golden chains zipping across her long legs. Most of the time, though, she had on her formal Alliance officer's uniform. The captain, our captain. Captain of my sleep, my sleeplessness, my insomnia; my unconscious self connecting to her own through our deepening bond. _Oh captain, my captain._

How strange…


	51. Eye for an Eye

_"Eye for an Eye" from The Last of Us Part II_

**LI.** Eye for an Eye

_(Shepard)_

Raised up high along Palaven's south peaks, I sat over this mountaintop.

Alone.

Completely on my own, with just the broad sights and the pale moonlight keeping me company.

These mountains seemed to go on forever. And this eternity gave me the best solitude I could've hoped for. In the distance, I stared off at the structured skyscrapers spanning across the turians' robust, imperial civilization. Closer, near to me, I looked down at my N7 armor. Helmet removed, I existed here just fine. The sun had just recently gone down. I escaped up here to get away. To run from that feeling I'd had down below. Such a constant feeling of being watched. This feeling wasn't anything new, either. I had felt it back on Earth, too, while showing Miranda the old neighborhood where I grew up. Ever since we arrived to the turian homeworld yesterday, that feeling persisted more. I had no idea how or why.

Lone wolf, infiltrator. I was used to being alone. I knew how to exist on my own. I preferred it at times.

But this was the first time in a long time that I actually felt lonely.

As I stared up at Palaven's moon, Menae, I felt some solace. The ethereal comfort and allure of the moonlight found me here. That light stared back at me, shining over this obvious explanation for my emotions. These exact, insidious emotions crept through my spirit as I thought of her. _Miranda._ Her constant habit of lying, keeping secrets. This constant cycle with Miranda keeping something hidden, and me finding out at the worst time. This time it was Miranda's fears about _not being enough_ to protect me from the Reapers. Having to find out from Javik made it worse. She had purposely decided to withhold this truth with me. That disloyalty from her, however unintentional, got to me too much.

Today more so than any other day.

Today was Ashley's birthday.

_April 14._

I recognized how sensitive I was to people lying, keeping secrets like this. And Miranda knew it was a deal-breaker for me. She'd saved me from the reasons why. She knew exactly what this meant to me.

We were supposed to talk things out, to communicate. The other week, it nearly broke me to admit the truth to her—that my feelings for Liara had come up again. But they came up, shocked me, made me panic, and then subsided back under my control. I was okay now, somehow. I could finally breathe again. I was back to a more reasonable place with her. Just like Ashley, Liara would always have this special place in my heart and in my mind. I would always love them, both of them. Those what-ifs would creep up from time to time, yes. But I couldn't let them defeat me. I accepted reality for what it was.

There was just this issue with Miranda shoving me off-balance.

If it kept pushing me, it would shove me clear off this mountaintop.

Yet for some reason, I felt like I had to stay here. I had to stay on this course. I'd had this same sense long ago—before and after Sovereign. As long as I remained on this path, everything would work out as it needed to. I knew I would suffer along the way. But I had to trust that everything would be all right.

_I had my own guardian angel watching over me. Maybe more than one._

_I needed to trust them. This was all I could do._

_Have faith in sight unseeing._

Just then, I received an alert to my omni-tool.

When I saw what this was, something shifted in me. Something that was already here: it made itself known, introduced itself to my waking perception. And I really should've known it was with me all along.

_Request: New Private Radio Frequency (Secure – Encryption-Grade: Tentron)_

_Requester: Aria T'Loak_

_Reason: I want to talk to you._

_Requirements: Only you and me._

_Accept/Decline/Save for Later_

How the hell did Aria get a Tentron-level security clearance? I had one of my own as a Spectre. This was supposed to be for us to communicate with the Council and Asari High Command. And this range for private omni-tool to omni-tool calls extended much farther out. Hell, the private frequency I had with Miranda was only Alliance-standard, limited to calls within the same system only. But I remembered now that I'd used that encryption-grade on purpose. I specifically hadn't used my Tentron-level one. For practicality's sake…because of Cerberus. I didn't fully trust Miranda at the end of the day.

I'd wanted to believe it was just because of Cerberus. Just because of the Illusive Man. Her father.

At this point, there was no denying—Miranda's habits were baked-in. This was her. Who she was.

Even after she _woke up_ and left Cerberus, this would probably always be here. I couldn't change her.

Trying to protect myself from this conveyor belt of disappointments…I mentally checked-out.

I accepted Aria's request.

I waited for her to call me first. Because I knew she would.

During these short minutes, I felt my emotions festering past my mental checkout. Festering on in confusion, in disbelief. I saw Miranda for exactly who she was…and I loved her to death anyway. I had seen the same with my exes, if not in different ways. It was like I was just _asking_ for her to hurt me…

My omni-tool lit up with this next alert, from Aria's call.

Not expecting anything from her, I answered—"Hey. So this is a surprise."

Aria laughed softly. _"I'm sure,"_ she humored. _"To be honest, I'm surprised you accepted. From what you mentioned at the end of the last mission, I know you're on Palaven. Helping Garrus with whatever business he has on his homeworld. I figured you might be busy. Or maybe you just didn't trust me enough for this type of thing. What made you go along with it?"_

"I think it was your timing."

_"Oh? How was my timing so special, then?"_

"You caught me at an interesting time, that's all," I evaded. "What've you been up to lately?"

Aria noticed more going on with me, but she let it slide.

 _"A few things here and there,"_ she replied instead. _"My daughter is on Omega visiting for a short while. I've mostly been spending time with her. Talking, going out. Watching vids together at home. The usual."_

"How are things going with her?"

_"Much better than before."_

I wondered, "Did you and Liselle not get along at some point?"

Aria didn't want to admit: _"For pretty much her whole life, yes. Until recently. Things changed."_

"What changed, exactly?"

_"Liselle never approved of my…parenting style, before. Though it wasn't so much of a style as it was a lack of one. I had my personal issues. I took them out on her without meaning to. Naturally, she resented me for it. Started rebelling in her own ways. Deep down, she just wanted me to change. To start putting her first. Our relationship has steadily gotten better over time. It will take more time to fix the rest."_

I specifically remembered—"I thought you said you didn't like change. That it was unreliable."

Aria laughed a little more. _"Shepard, that impeccable memory of yours will only get you in trouble."_

"I'm serious, though. I get that she's your daughter. Of course you're going to make exceptions for her. You just made it seem like this was something you'd never do. Not even for her. Not for anyone else."

_"I'll always make exceptions for the right people. Liselle is the most important. Plus one other person."_

"Who's this other person, then?" I asked.

Aria sounded unusually smooth: _"I'm speaking with her now."_

Just like after Eden Prime, I had no idea what to say in response.

It wasn't easy to make me blank out like this. But she managed to keep doing it.

And, just like before, Aria couldn't fault me for my silence. She again sounded so charmed by me.

Deft as a communicator—unlike me—Aria knew to bring this up now: _"There's another reason why I called. Why I wanted us to speak. Ever since the last mission, I haven't been able to shake this feeling about you. This feeling that something might be off. That you're not okay. You put on a brave face for your team. For everyone else around you. Trust me, I know what it's like. Is that what's going on?"_

"Maybe," I evaded, again. "How'd you notice this about me in the first place?"

 _"A woman's intuition,"_ she joked. She sounded dead serious at the same time.

Nonetheless, something about Aria's care smoothed a cooling salve over my wounds.

"You said you know what it's like. Are you dealing with the same thing these days?"

_"I think you know the answer to that, babe."_

"I still want you to tell me."

Entertained now, Aria asked, _"We can't just make this about you? It_ has _to be about me, too?"_

"Yes," I decided.

 _"Hmm, fine,"_ she accepted, so easily. _"What exactly do you want to know, then?"_

"I'd like to know what's on your mind, Aria. You seem like you're working your way up to something."

_"Well, I'm considering the possibilities. If I should tell the truth. Confessing how I really feel about you. I'm not trying to steal you away from anyone. If that was my intention, I'd have gone about this much differently. I'm not sure I would have succeeded. That's not the core of the issue, anyway. You're deeply in love with her. I don't want to disrupt that. However, I'm open to a bit more transparency between us."_

That was…surprisingly noble, coming from her. Of all people.

"A bit more transparency, huh?"

_"A lot more. Much more than I'm used to. Exceedingly more. You know what I mean, Shepard."_

"Did you plan on telling me now?" I asked. "Tonight? About how you feel for me."

Aria took in such a specific inhale. _"No…I thought about preparing an email instead. Do you want it?"_

"Send it to me. If it'll help you to get this off your chest, I'll read it over."

 _"That's generous of you,"_ she noted. _"I'll send it along when I'm ready. It might take me a little while."_

"I understand. Take as long as you need."

_"Of course. Now it's your turn. What's actually bothering you? I'm not letting you off the hook this time."_

I couldn't tell her about Miranda. If Aria and I went down that rabbit hole, we'd never get back out.

So I gave her the next best truth: "I've been thinking about one of my exes lately. Had some old feelings flare up for a while. It was pretty bad. I have them under control now. Just threw me off. I'll be fine."

 _"Sounds believable,"_ accepted Aria. _"Which ex of yours was this?"_

"Liara. You know about her. What happened in the past."

_"Yes, I certainly do… I have to say, I'm curious. I've seen pictures of her. Read about her research—more recently. Liara was brilliant. It's too bad her peers didn't acknowledge this until after her passing. Except Liselle, of course. What made Liara so special in your eyes? I'm genuinely interested. I'd like to know."_

The words flowed so easily, "She opened me up in a lot of ways. Before I met her, I was so closed-off. I refused to trust people, to let anyone get close. Liara showed me that I didn't have to keep running away. She was so sweet, and kind, and gentle with me. Incredibly patient. Regardless of everything, she dedicated her life to me. Liara reminded me of my humanity. I don't know where I'd be without her."

Aria paused.

She seemed to relate to my words. Or at least some of them.

 _"Liara_ does _sound special,"_ she said softly. _"I wish I could thank her for everything she did for you."_

"You can thank her soon enough," I replied, almost by accident. "I'm going to pick her up later tonight."

Aria blurted out, _"Shepard—what did you just say? I thought Liara was gone! How are you going to 'pick her up'?"_ When I couldn't reply, she sounded nearly incredulous: _"Are you insane?! How the hell is that possible? Sure,_ you _came back from the dead… Did you find a way to do the same with her? Is that it?"_

Maybe I should've thought this through first… "Basically. It's a long story."

_"So I can expect to meet her during the next mission against the Collectors?"_

"Yes, Aria. Just—keep this to yourself. I don't want the wrong people finding out. The short story is that it involves the asari bonding process. If we didn't have our bond, then none of this would be possible."

Aria paused again, as if she believed me.

As if she remembered something; as if she had a very specific reason to believe my claims.

She was an asari herself. Surely she had her own information about this.

 _"Well, my lips are sealed,"_ promised Aria. _"Since learning the Protheans uplifted my species, I've looked into a few things on my own. Apparently Javik's people were closely connected to a mysterious network for organics. Something called a collective unconscious. Our biological markers and linked experiences are hidden within this network. That's what the Protheans used to communicate through physiology. We asari inherited some of this, with our ability to meld with another person's nervous system to share knowledge, and reproduce. It's not quite the same as what the Protheans had, but it's close enough."_

That filled in a lot of gaps with my understanding.

I smiled over Aria's well of knowledge—her vast intelligence—seemingly unlimited when she wanted it to be. Her emotional intelligence played into this, too. I felt her picking up so much more about me. Clues and information I didn't necessarily have to speak aloud, to explicitly make clear. She understood.

"If it helps at all, Liara's been in my unconscious mind this whole time. Waiting for me to go get her."

_"Hmm, and you have the means to travel there? To the unconscious reaches of your own mind?"_

"Yes, through a VR game," I explained. "Legion developed it. This somehow links to our collective unconscious as organic species. I'm not sure how everything fits together. That's just the story."

Aria had her unlimited curiosities, too. _"Then let me pose the hypothetical. Say I were to meld with you. Join my nervous system to yours. Embrace eternity. If you and I had a similar type of bond… Something powerful. Not just any old thing. Would you be able to 'pick me up' after I died? A form of immortality."_

"More than likely."

_"I can't believe I'm saying this—but that's incredible, Shepard. The possibilities are endless with you."_

My instincts pricked at me.

Dual reasons, dual senses. I couldn't quite pin them down.

 _"I know,"_ sensed Aria. _"We've talked long enough. You should get going."_

"Thanks for calling me," I expressed. "For doing all this. It helped to hear from you. Even though you caught me off-guard, I enjoyed talking with you. I wasn't expecting this."

_"Mm-hmm. I'm sure I've made this clear…but you can call me at any time. If you need anything. If you want me. I—care about you, Shepard. I care about you a lot. More than I can tolerate sometimes. You can fill in the rest on your own for now. I may not be the best at showing it… I'm only letting you know you can count on me. However you need. For starters, I'll keep this secret about your VR game and Little Liara. Anything else you choose to divulge will stay between us. I just wanted to make sure you knew."_

"I appreciate that, Aria. I'm sorry we got off to a bad start before. I shouldn't have judged you."

 _"It was natural of you to do,"_ she forgave. _"I sadly did the same to you. But we've both learned our lesson now. That's what matters. I'll be around if you'd like to talk later. Tomorrow, whenever."_

"I'll give you a call tomorrow, then. Have a good night."

_"Good night, babe."_

Feeling a weight lift from my own shoulders, I exhaled with this release.

I really hadn't expected that from her. Any of it.

But before I could even process my talk with Aria, my omni-tool went off with another alert. This low rumble from Miranda, my customized notification for her. She called me this time, as I'd anticipated.

 _"Shepard,"_ fretted Miranda, as soon as I answered. _"You've been gone all day. Where are you?"_

"I'm at the mountains," I told her.

_"The—the mountains? At the south peaks? What are you doing all the way over there?! For God's sake, I've been worried sick about you! I expected you to call me, to let me know where you were—something! Instead I've been a damned mess this whole time, wondering if something happened to you! I swear, ever since we arrived to Palaven, you've been off on some other world… Why won't you talk to me?"_

Mentally checked-out for mere moments:

Just like that, Miranda made me check right back in.

Push and pull, push and pull from her lies and secrets and disloyalties—none of it fucking mattered anymore. Not while I listened to these broken breaths Miranda breathed in and out. Not while I could hear her rage teetering into raw heartbreak. I shivered in a sudden cold, frozen in fear of what I'd done.

 _"I knew something was off with you,"_ she went on, aggrieved. _"The second we touched down planetside, I sensed a shift. You changed. You were different. And I tried to give you space. I tried to let you breathe; to let you figure things out on your own, as you always need to do. But then you pulled yet another disappearing act. When you first asked me to be your girlfriend, I told you—I asked you not to do this. I pleaded with you to not leave me alone like this. Especially not as a punishment! Because it feels like you're punishing me for something I've done. Is that what you're doing…? Is that what's going on?!"_

"Miranda, I'm not doing that. I'm not trying to punish you for anything."

Practically killing me, Miranda choked back a sob. _"Then how did I stop feeling you moments ago? Why did it feel like you switched off? You flipped that switch, Shepard… You checked-out!"_ How the hell did she know that about me? _"And don't tell me that you didn't. Don't you dare—I know better! Did you forget I put you back together? I rebuilt you… Your corpse, burned to death. I brought you back… I rebuilt you with my bare hands. Every single thing—mind, body, and soul—while my heart bled over you non-stop. I memorized every fucking thing I could about you._ I know you. _Oh, God, do I know you…"_

…

_"Say something, damnit! Don't just sit there and breathe! I refuse to believe you're so bloody selfish that you'd let this go on. That you'd honestly let me keep panicking and panicking with no resolution!"_

"Babe, I'm sorry," I tried. What bothered me earlier—it just didn't matter anymore. "I'm sorry I left you alone. I'm sorry I got too close to your hard limit. I wasn't thinking clearly. It was irresponsible of me."

Calming a bit, Miranda sheared some of her edge away. Enough to sigh. Enough to collect herself.

 _"I don't want an apology,"_ she said, still displeased. _"I want a solution. You already know this about me."_

"Then…do you want me to get to the hotel?"

Miranda exhaled in relief. _"Yes, I do,"_ she whispered. _"Please come back to me, Shepard. Come back to our room. I miss you. I know you promised to help Garrus tonight. I've accepted that. Aside from any sworn time away, I want you here with me. I don't want to spend another minute without you."_

"Okay," I accepted. "Just let me get down from these mountains. I can use my landing system to speed things up. The rapid transit is over by the mountain trail. Let me mute myself while I get there."

_"That's fine. Thank you for staying on the line. It's what I need from you right now."_

Muting my end, I found the nearest safe spot below.

Jumping down, my Icarus Landing System made for some fun parkour. Or it would've been fun, if not for my fuckups with Miranda earlier. Going from spot to spot, nearing the mountain trail, I tried to figure this out. Seriously, as soon as the _Normandy_ arrived to Palaven, I'd felt…something. That profound sadness. That unusual loneliness. That explosion of my doubts and worries and fears with Miranda, with our relationship. Everything I felt was real, and true to myself. But that magnitude was completely foreign to me. I wanted to blame the day. I wanted to assume it was just Ash's birthday, the meaning getting me in my feelings like that. There had to be more to it than that. But now I'd never know.

I decided it didn't matter, anyway.

None of it mattered.

I needed to get back to Miranda, back to our hotel room. I needed to make sure she was okay again.

Once I made it to the rapid transit car, I set my destination for the Kingsglaive hotel.

And then I unmuted myself, letting Miranda know—"I'm on my way to you now. Won't take long."

Taciturn relief from her. _"All right…"_

I tried steering the conversation: "So…what else have you been up to today?"

 _"I spent most of my time with Jack,"_ said Miranda, forcing some normalcy. _"She asked for additional access to some more Cerberus files. We searched them together. Jack's looking into the Teltin facility where Cerberus ran those experiments on her. The facility on Pragia is defunct, but it's still standing."_

"Do you think Jack will want to head over there soon?"

_"I'd imagine so, yes. Perhaps the closure will prove helpful. I told her I'd pass the message along."_

"That's fine," I allowed. "I'll talk to Jack about it after we bring back Liara."

 _"Of course."_ Such a hard beat passed. _"Why did you decide to go to the mountains, anyway?"_

"I just felt—nostalgic somehow. Almost like I had been to the south peaks before. It's the same with how weird I felt earlier. I don't know. Seems like I'm picking up on someone else's emotions."

Miranda speculated, _"It's possible that may be from Liara. I'm not sure, but she might have visited those same mountains on her own. I do think it's a good sign. It means she's ready to come back home with us, and you're equally as ready to find her. If that's all it was…then I'm sorry for getting angry with you."_

"No, I should have told you what was going on. It's okay, babe."

_"Hmm, well I'm curious now. What were you doing all the way up there? Staring out at the sights?"_

"For the most part," I replied. "Aria also called me. I spoke with her for a while. Just as a friendly thing."

 _"Somehow I'm not surprised,"_ said Miranda, genuinely neutral. _"Are you still attracted to her?"_

"Yes, but that's as far as it'll go. Aria told me she's not going to disrupt anything. Getting in the way of what you and I have together. On one hand, Aria's too smart to be messy like that. On the other, I think she wants things to stay like this. I doubt she would want to get too close to me. This is a safe distance."

_"That's true. I hadn't thought of it like that. It helps me feel better about her. A lot better."_

I wondered, "Were you jealous of her?"

_"Shepard, of course I was… I'm not proud of it. I was also rather confused. I find Aria very attractive. In my own ways. Physically speaking. Our personalities tend to clash. She's all about her freedoms. I admire that. I'm sure she dislikes how cold and rigid I am in comparison. I can still admit how sexy she is."_

"Really? You'd want to have sex with her?"

Miranda laughed softly, getting at something in me. Way too deep, way too sudden.

 _"Maybe,"_ she teased. _"Though I'd be more interested in watching you fuck her. After all, Aria seems so preoccupied with power. Seeing you invert her authority—well, it sounds like quite the treat to me. But let's save this conversation for another time. You said your call with her was friendly. If I was there with you at the time, would you have had the exact same discussion? Or would you have censored yourself instead? Or perhaps if we were on the ship, would you have gone into another room? To avoid me."_

"Not at all," I promised. She sounded relieved, but I still wanted to let her know: "Miranda, you are _the one_ for me. You're absolutely my top priority." Listening to her hanging on my every word, I stared out at these sights of Cipritine's silver metropolis lit up at night, _needing her._ "Babe, I know I've been tripping lately. But I'd never break your heart by stepping out on you. That's not me. I couldn't do it."

 _"I know, Shepard,"_ breathed Miranda, sniffling a little. _"I know you wouldn't do that… I'm just—ridiculously attached to you. I'm not good at attached. You evoke so much in me, every single day. Anything you do is liable to make me_ react, _make me emotional. This is how it's always been for me."_

"Mmm, I like that. I'm your exception in a lot of ways. Makes me feel special."

_"Of course you're special. So long as you don't let it go to your head."_

I didn't mean to smirk at that. "Which one?"

And Miranda didn't mean to laugh so much. _"God, you're such a cad… I'm already emotional as it is, then you make me laugh. I'll get you back for this. Mark my words. Are you nearly at the hotel now?"_

Outside my window, I spotted that endless rise of structured silver from the Kingsglaive.

"Yes, Miranda," I answered. "I'm pulling up soon. I'll see you in a few minutes."

_"I'll be waiting for you."_

* * *

Returning to this brightness of the hotel, I put my helmet back on. Just for some kind of anonymity. I knew it was pointless. All the turians and other people around recognized me anyway. It wasn't like there were turians in the human N7 program. The buzz had swirled around about the _Normandy_ arriving in town; about my team and me staying at the Kingsglaive. I made my way to the gift shop with what little anonymity these nosey admirers allowed. Which wasn't much. But I couldn't really blame them.

At this gift shop, I picked up a box of assorted chocolates. Imported straight from Earth, guaranteed safe for human consumption. I scanned the box, just in case. Looked good. Since turians and quarians both had their dextro-requirements, I only wanted to make sure. I bought the chocolates and took them with me, over to the elevator. And I went up to the top floor where our rooms were—everyone on the team.

I activated my cloak out of a strange sense of paranoia.

My instincts paid off, though, once I arrived to my destination.

Hanging out in the common room together, some of the team were here. Drinking, having a good time. Kaidan, Joker, James, Jack, Tali. Garrus was off preparing for his mission—I expected him to contact me within the next hour or so. Tali was due to help us out. In the meantime, she stayed here with the gang, sharing laughs with everyone. Jack sat next to her, but just far enough away to be friendly. Still not remotely romantic or sexual. At least not with Jack continuing to respect Tali's wishes, but I could tell she still liked her. There was something about the energy Jack gave off. That need to be so much closer.

I could only wonder how Jack would react to Liara's return.

Inevitably, Liara would take up most of Tali's attention. Even as I consumed both of their energies.

Maybe now really was a good time to help Jack on Pragia; finding that closure for her.

Down the hallway, I walked all the way to the end. The suite I shared with Miranda was far enough away from everyone else's. I didn't want the whole team eavesdropping on us. Especially not tonight.

As soon as I entered the unlit room, I found the moonlight again shining in on me, this time through the windows. That view of Cipritine at night carried on. The skyline went on and out past the glass, with Palaven's silver sights lighting up the horizon in size. Here in the luxury of the suite, I found Miranda just by the door. Pacing around in her nightdress, her bare footsteps making tracks over the floor. She stopped the moment I came in and found her like this. Her eyes locked to mine. Needing, missing me.

Miranda waited for me to go over to her.

And I would've done it right away.

Again, I had this feeling. Ever since I arrived back to the hotel, this feeling came back up. This feeling I'd tried to escape earlier. Like someone watched me from somewhere. Not Miranda. _Just me,_ specifically.

I could never know for certain. So I set it aside, going over to Miranda instead.

"Hey," I soothed, bringing her close. "It's okay. Come here."

Miranda sighed, relaxing in my hold. Her restlessness subsided. She found the rest of her peace.

She murmured against my armored shoulder, "I meant what I said. Did you think I couldn't notice…? I see everything about you, Shepard. _Everything._ I can't tear my eyes from you. Not even for a moment."

"I know that now. I'm sorry."

Pulling away a bit, I handed Miranda this box of chocolates. As my extra apology. She accepted the box in her hands, smiling over the surprise.

"Thank you for this," she said. "I actually have a sweet tooth tonight. This should help for now."

"For now, huh?"

Miranda gave me such a devious smirk, teasing, "Yes, Shepard. _For now._ I imagine you'd like to go and freshen up. I'll indulge in my chocolates while you do that. I still want you to spend this time with me."

"All right. I'll just take a quick shower. I'll be right out."

Following up on her suggestiveness, Miranda kept her eyes to me. She watched as I went inside the bathroom. And I listened as she made her way to the bed, lounging there. I could only imagine what was on her mind. What she thought about while she waited; while I took this shower and changed clothes.

Then again, the answer seemed pretty obvious.

I'd wasted last night and the whole day today, brooding away from her. Too far away, when I could've been all the way inside of her instead. Indulging in my own ways. Pleasing her all day and all night long. I still remembered the way Miranda sounded in my car, back home. How she'd hooked me, made me so fucking crazy for her. I couldn't deny the memory now, how it still affected me. Even though I'd caught my mind wandering to another woman lately, Miranda stayed at the forefront. She reigned supreme.

I had the chance to make up for everything now.

I could only hope Garrus didn't contact me at an awkward time.

Using the holo-closet within this lingering shower mist, I put on a fresh tank top and pair of boxer briefs. I debated putting anything more on. Something specific. Something to signal my own thoughts, my own intention to Miranda, ideally mirroring what she wanted from me tonight. I forever wanted to please her. That role, that responsibility of mine filled me with the utmost pride and honor—just as much as I needed to fill her, and just as much as I needed to prove myself to her. Pleasing her, performing, putting my all into her: these prospects kept me hard even with nothing in between.

Still, there was something about strapping up early. Premeditated. Unprovoked.

Miranda wanted to take charge. Even while she needed me to fuck her, to tear her virginity away.

That apparent inversion of power—mixing and blurring—forever sent me to this pleasurable place.

Right at the precipice, I returned to the bedroom.

And I found Miranda lounging in bed still.

Graceful, elegant: freshly-manicured nails glimmering in the moonlight, she placed another piece of chocolate into her mouth. Her other hand, she smoothed down her thighs, completely bare. Goddess of gods, Miranda wore nothing at all. Nothing except the bed's sheets loosely draped around her body. Through that draping, I saw her perfect outline, her curves, her confidence of flesh—all that I'd treasured and worshipped. Fine chocolate melting in her mouth, Miranda stared back at me with such a purposeful intensity. I knew she could tell by the look in my eyes—she had me right where she wanted.

Miranda glanced down at my boxer briefs, this black cotton heating around me.

"You're not wearing it," she noticed. "I know you're not. Otherwise you'd be rock hard by now. As you should be." This time, she glanced at the other holo-closet, just behind me. "Are you going to put it on?"

I only had to make sure—"Are you…still taking your birth control meds?"

"Yes, I am," replied Miranda, satisfied. "You know exactly what I want. I expect you to give it to me."

Entranced, in a daze, I turned to the holo-closet.

I put it on beneath my boxer briefs. The one she wanted. The one with the mess. The one that would show Miranda precisely how I felt about her, how she affected me; how she had me under her control.

Fully under her gaze, I walked over to the nightstand. As I went, Miranda watched the beginnings, this shape of me hardening already. She continued observing me as I searched though the top drawer. The condoms and lube I'd brought were at the top. I didn't remember putting these in plain sight before. She must have moved them. On purpose. All as her not-so-subtle way of saying what she needed from me.

I pulled a handful of condoms out. Setting them atop the nightstand. And I was about to open one.

Until Miranda stood up from the bed. She moved right behind me, lingering. I could smell her. Fuck, I smelled her—that anticipation drenching between her thighs, softly pungent in absolute perfection. I smelled her even more as she pressed herself against me. Miranda maneuvered me just so, taking my focus away from the condoms…for now. She held onto my arms, the feathery touch of her fingertips fluttering at me in her finesse. She turned me around, pressing my front against the wall nearest to the bed. This height difference between us—Miranda's lips only reached to the nape of my neck. She pressed the fullness of her kiss to my skin, sounds of satisfaction humming down my shoulder blades.

Intoxicated by me, Miranda could've kept at this for hours.

I felt how much she wanted to, just in the ways she gripped at my tank top, shifting it out of her way.

All the while, I stared out to the night's city past the windows. Those glimmering lights, the sights of structured silver there. Full civilization, so many turians and other people, other life beyond. None of them could see me. None of them could, yet I still felt someone else's eyes on me anyway. Just on me.

Purposely ignoring Miranda—or imagining themselves in her place.

In her place, as my face stayed against this wall—as she reached around, stroking my hardness for her.

And I kept getting harder, knowing who watched me and how depraved they were.

That feeling made me turn Miranda around, switching places. I pushed her back against the wall.

This smirk of her lips, this glow of her skin on full display for me. She had no idea what I saw, what crept through my mind. No idea, even though she'd sensed all of me earlier, before. Miranda knew I was unknowable. She knew I remained unreachable in too many ways. She knew, and she pulled me in anyway, branding my lips with this growing, hardening shape of her smirking. Tasting as chocolate, lingering, I felt Miranda's eagerness to know me. Her emphasis, her energy, her efforts. How she gripped at me, pulled at me, brought me into her more, trying and trying to know me, everything. Yet the more she tried, the more my mind lifted higher, out of her reach, without my input. And Miranda put more of herself into this every time. Running after me, chasing after me by touch. Pulling me back down to this figurative earth with her; pulling this love out of me, not knowing the precipice I stood on, out of my control. She reached over and grabbed a condom in my place; ripped the wrapper, pulling the protection free. She made the best opening at the top, slipping the rest over me, rolling her touch down.

_"Fuck me, Shepard."_

Desperation in her voice, her hold around my back.

Disregard for any pain. She wanted me _now._

Miranda's wish, my command—I lifted her legs, hiking her up higher over the wall. I pushed all the way into her. Warmth rippling around me, that _pain_ rippled out of Miranda's throat, uncensored. That pitch of hers, that grip of hers around my neck, my hair, my back, tightening and tightening. I had her trapped like this. I stopped right at this top of her. Waiting. Letting Miranda breathe in my ear. Letting her entire body tremble in my lifted hold, completely at my mercy. And anything that bled from her, the black of my boxer briefs absorbed in full. Steadily, with this time, Miranda made room for me, clenching less and less. This heated, soaking, endless core of her welcomed me whole, pulling me in, pulling me in more.

Cold and callous, I spoke into her ear—"There's no turning back, babe. You belong to me now. _Completely._ No one can ever take this away. No one can ever take you from me. I own you." Pressing my hands to the wall, I hiked Miranda's legs up higher, heightening this angle of her, making her let out a short, uncontrolled scream. "Is this what you wanted? What you spent decades waiting for. Saving yourself for. Just for me. Just for me to break you like this, to degrade you like this." Breaths picking up as her wordless affirmative, I practically felt Miranda's breathing around me. Tightening, clenching with her inhales; less so with her exhales, for mere seconds, before her feared pleasures picked right back up again. "You spend so much of your time locking up your worst instincts. Controlling yourself, so rigid and cold. Tell me, Miranda… You need to be inferior to me, don't you? You need to be my fucking bitch."

Flipped switch, pretenses melted away, Miranda whined out for me, "Yes, Shepard… _God, yes—"_

Frenetic, I fucked her. Fumbling at first, she gripped me harder, the bends of her arms crossing up and down my shoulders for leverage. _Leverage_ —she didn't fucking need it. I held her up just the way I wanted, all for this perfect access. Reaching up into her, ramming into her, raging her back against the damned wall—she screamed my name and screamed her pleasure, undefined and uncontrolled.

I tore at her years-long patience; she bled for me.

I fucked Miranda out of control and she couldn't deal.

I made her take it and she couldn't control herself anymore.

Fucking her with this focus, I could've drilled a hole in the wall, shaped of her. Shaped of her hips, her ass, her legs all reacting to me, helpless for days. Miranda's pain began to subside from her voice, her shouting and screams. Adapting to me, I finished shaping her as mine. And I could've finished inside of her—this soon—just from the way she'd let go with me. All from the way Miranda kept begging me for more, whimpering enough to drive me crazy. I summoned every last shred of my focus, giving it to her. Giving it and giving it to her. Over and over as I drove her clear over the moon, off into this ecstasy only _I_ could give her. No one else could ever handle her like this. Miranda got off to me, _knowing_ this exclusivity, needing it like hell. She clenched around me and trembled and called out my name. And she didn't give a damn if anyone heard us. I knew they did; I knew they spied on us again. None of it mattered. Not with Miranda baring her soul for me like this. Not with her beauty so elevated in release.

Still needing more, I made myself pause for now. I pulled out, slowly enough to avoid hurting her. Softly, Miranda contorted her face in the gentlest pain. So sensitive. She sighed once I was out, as if missing a piece of herself. She couldn't function without me inside of her, propping her up. I really needed that.

Breathing harder, Miranda lulled her head to one side. Sweat sticking between us, heat radiating. I looked right into her eyes, glassed and dulled in her emotions. She looked right back at me, needing my attention. Needing my fixations. Needing to know that none of this was a dream; that I had actually taken her, made her mine like this as her mind went into a lulling overdrive. That steel blue of her eyes had thoroughly melted, cooled, and shaped anew. Reshaped as mine, renewed as mine for all time.

If she didn't have me holding her up, Miranda could've collapsed to the floor by now in exhaustion.

But I knew she wanted more. I knew she still craved me. She needed me to keep using her.

So I brought her over to the bed, carrying her there. Thoughtless, I threw her down over the mattress, the scattered sheets and duvet. Miranda moaned over the meaning. Face-down, she coiled her body into those sheets. Gripping the fabric, lifting her ass up as her wanton signal—needy and needing the fuck out of me. And I couldn't stop staring at that ass of hers. The perfect shape, how endless she seemed. The fitness of her thighs. The shape of her submission to me. How she could barely stay still without me. She kept moaning in a pained impatience, paining more over each passing second. Every single second she had to suffer without my hands over her, without me fucking her, turning her out. She couldn't stand it.

So I knelt over the bed, just behind her.

Miranda moved her ass into me. Signaling, signaling. Begging with her body again.

I groped at her ass before spanking, once. Hard enough to make Miranda cry out in her pleasured pain. I did it again, watching this thick slickening between her legs, glinting in the night. Again and again I slapped at Miranda's ass, making her react to me. Sending her so much higher every time. Tearing away that fucking veneer of hers; stripping her down to this base, baring herself for me. These low desires, mean and rude, getting to the core of her insecurities. She trusted me to tear her apart exactly like this.

Crawling over the bed, I made my way to the pillows. Sitting up against the headboard, I situated myself here. And Miranda stayed on her hands and knees before me. In her periphery, she kept me within her sights. Focused on my erection, how I remained at complete attention for her. Miranda wanted me so badly that she'd started shaking, trembling. I could've fucked her five times, ten times, fifty fucking times and she'd still want more. Constant cravings; constant chances to destroy her all over again.

I grabbed at Miranda's arm, pulling her to me. "You motherfucking slut. Get over here, _now."_

Weak in the knees—weakened _everywhere_ —Miranda whimpered from my suddenness, from my strength. She collapsed into me. Fumbling around in this dark of my sadism, Miranda pressed forward. She pulled her body up and up. Meaning to mount me. Needing her new seat on this ride, hard and fast.

Seated over my lap, I felt this shape of her: slick softness and soaking folds over these protected veins of me.

And I was about to push myself back in—take Miranda again, and again. For as long as I possibly could.

As I looked up at her, I held Miranda's face in my hand. She had a difficult time holding eye contact with me. High as fuck, I worried she might've been too far gone. I switched mindsets. I needed to make sure:

"Babe, I'm checking in," I told her in earnest. "Are you all right? If you need to use the safe word—if you need me to slow down, just let me know… We'll stop. We'll stop and I'll hold you. I'll take care of you."

My question alone sobered Miranda just enough.

She made deep eye contact with me, only saying one word: "Green." _Green and good to go_ as opposed to red. And that was enough. That was enough for Miranda to plunge her lips into mine. Impassioned, loving, adoring. Soaking more between us, she found her arousal in my care. Just in the way I loved her, putting her safety first. Proving her sobriety, enough to assuage me, Miranda convinced me to keep on.

Still basking in Miranda's lips, her tongue over mine, I pushed up and inside her. Deep in this heat of her again, I couldn't hold back. I grabbed onto Miranda's waist. I snaked my hand along her scalp, gripping the roots of her hair, controlling. Fucking her like this, I reveled in Miranda's trust in me. The way she threw her head back, her body taking this from me. Constant, constant—heated and sweating, sweltering in seconds. As close as I was already, I cursed into Miranda's drenching skin. Grunting over my focus slipping away, slipping. Miranda knew it then. She held onto my shoulders, goading me and goading me. And I could sense her thoughts, her fantasy in this moment. How she wished I didn't have this protection on at all. How she craved for me to just let go; to come inside of her, to hell with what we _couldn't_ do, so irresponsible. I wanted the consequences. I wanted her body to change, to react to me. I wanted Miranda to carry what I could give to her in love. I needed to take care of her through it all.

Fucking Miranda this hard, animalistic, she couldn't get enough of me. Enough of the thought, the suggestion that I could keep using her like this. Freely, open, ramming into her with one singular purpose. Breeding her and needing her to cut away the rest of her worth. Just reducing her to this one function, this one meaning; and for me to protect her throughout, as vulnerable as she would be. Over and over, Miranda could've existed as this single thing for me. Over and over, the thought brought her all the way up, soaring, screaming my name all over again. I held out just enough, but I couldn't stop this stream the second she doubled over me. Spent already, Miranda palmed at the back of my head, whispering the very same that I'd sensed of her. Listening to the accented velvet of her voice give life to this need—she got me off, harder the more she pled, the more she begged me to seed her. This next best thing kept me under her control, exactly where we'd started. Back at the beginning, back again.

Blacking out for a moment, I barely realized the change. This change that happened once Miranda dismounted me. Too far-gone myself, I hardly felt her taking this condom off from me. She licked this mess off, cleaned me up. Spotless. And then she fell into my arms, letting me hold her. Quiet, calming.

This simplistic aftercare worked for her. Miranda relaxed in my arms. I felt her falling asleep, her breaths growing heavier over my chest. I pressed my lips to the warm roots of her hair; she relaxed over me even more. I wished I could've stayed like this with her. More than anything, I wanted to. But of course, I received that expected, silenced alert to my omni-tool. I situated my arms around Miranda's sleeping form, managing to check—this was definitely from Garrus, ready for the mission. He sent this email to Tali and me both, asking to meet him in the hotel's parking lot in twenty minutes. So I had to get going.

I untangled myself from Miranda as gently as I could. Escaping the bed, I somehow managed not to wake her up. Putting my strap away, I jumped in the shower again, then I got back out. Putting on my stealth suit, I did my best to get in the right mindset. Garrus didn't need me to be unfocused. Not now.

Returning to the bedroom, I found Miranda still asleep. More like passed the fuck out, sheets askew. I went over and tucked her in properly. This comforting bundle around her, I envied. I leaned down to her forehead, this chilled sheen of sweat still over her skin. I kissed her goodbye, enjoying this taste. And I lingered here, not really knowing why. So many emotions came over me at once. Listening to Miranda breathe, listening to her sleep. I loved her more than I could fathom. So much more than I could handle.

"I'll be back soon," I whispered. "I love you. I love you so much."

Miranda's peaceful beauty made me want to do _anything_ for her.

I carried this ache with me as I left our suite. Out in the darkened hallway, I found Tali waiting for me. That hard, focused, lustful look in her eyes behind her helmet—she had definitely listened in. I watched her possessiveness flare up, quiet and unspoken. We had this silent understanding anyway. Tali could say nothing about it. I couldn't say a word, either. Together we left to go find Garrus downstairs, as promised.

* * *

In the parking lot, Tali and I found Garrus waiting for us. He leaned on his blue skycar, looking ready to go. That focus in his eyes—he needed to get this done. He needed to take Sidonis out once and for all.

"Shepard, Tali," said Garrus. "Glad you made it. I'm all set to move out if you are."

"Yes, Garrus," replied Tali. "Ready to head out."

"Where are we going?" I asked.

"Just driving up to a tall building. I'll explain on the way. I assume you'd like to do the honors."

"Sure," I accepted, heading to the driver's seat of his car.

Garrus took the passenger's side, his sniper rifle with him already. Tali slipped into the backseat behind him. I found that Garrus had plugged in this building's coordinates into his navigation system. So I started up the car and took us off in that direction, driving into the thick of the city lit up at night.

I had to know, "Garrus, how'd you manage to track down Sidonis? Couldn't have been easy."

Garrus explained: "A few of my old C-Sec friends helped out. They knew Sidonis had gone completely bad. He tried to play games, escape law enforcement around here. Ended up making the wrong enemies. He tried disappearing for a while, hiding from them _and_ from me. Once I tracked down my old co-workers, they gave me the tips I needed."

"You still planning to kill Sidonis when we find him?"

"That's the plan," he confirmed. "It'll be quick and painless. Unlike everyone he betrayed, he'll be spared the agony of a slow death. It's more than he deserves, but as long as he's dead, I'll be satisfied." Garrus gripped his sniped rifle close. _"This is personal._ I'll pull the trigger. And I'll live with the consequences. All I'm asking is that you get me to where I need to go. Then let me take the shot."

"I understand, Garrus. Just give me the rundown. What's this operation looking like?"

"Pretty simple, actually. You're driving us to that tall, unspecified building. I managed to find out who Sidonis' trusted allies were. Got Tali to fake some communications between them, asking Sidonis to meet up on the rooftop of this building. He fell for it. He's on his way up there as we speak."

Tali checked her omni-tool, reaffirming, "Yes, he's on the move now. Sidonis should arrive to the rooftop shortly. You'll need to quickly take your shot before he notices. Otherwise he'll run off."

"Sounds perfect," approved Garrus. "One-and-done. My aim hasn't failed me so far. I won't miss."

"We're almost there," I noted, increasing our altitude as needed. "Sounds like this won't take long."

"Not at all. The preparation took the most time and effort. This is the easy part. If I weren't this prepared, then Sidonis could've led us on a wild goose chase instead, or however you humans call it. Aside from needing you to drive, Shepard, I guess I just…needed you here with me. You too, Tali. This has been a long time coming. You both know what led me to Omega, what led me to Sidonis in the first place. When he betrayed my men and got them killed, he reopened those old wounds of mine. Then again, I doubt my wounds had ever closed in the first place. Not until I made it back to the _Normandy."_

Tali could unfortunately relate. "I know what you mean, Garrus… Of course, I didn't go through the same things you did, back during your Archangel days. But I certainly felt betrayed. We all did. Those two years we spent without Shepard around… To this day, I'm still not sure how I survived. It was brutal."

"That's pretty much how I feel," shared Garrus. "Sidonis made it all worse. He needs to pay. Tonight."

Pulling up to this higher altitude, we arrived at the building.

Nondescript, high-up, and relatively remote—this looked like the perfect spot for an assassination.

I hovered Garrus' car in place.

Not long afterward, Sidonis appeared. He exited from the building's stairs to the rooftop. Looking around in a slight panic, he seemed anxious. Almost like he didn't believe he was here for the right reasons. Of course, his instincts were spot-on. But he didn't need to know that right now.

Garrus rolled down his window. He prepared his sniper rifle; took his aim.

"I've got him in my sights," said Garrus, focused through his scope. "Just keep holding us steady."

Tali glared out her own window, seeming to transpose her view of someone else onto Sidonis there.

I glanced around, making sure no one else would spot us. I didn't see any other skycars. Not this close.

Way too paranoid, Sidonis spotted Garrus aiming at him. I could just hear that panicked cursing from his mouth; he quickly turned around, trying to get away. Too bad for him, it was already too late to run.

Garrus took the shot.

That familiar, nostalgic booming from his sniper rifle sounded.

A split-second later, Sidonis stopped moving. Head punctured, he collapsed to the ground, bleeding out.

"Betrayal repaid, Sidonis."

"Let's get out of here," I declared, driving off before anyone saw us.

Tali commented, "That was easy enough."

"Agreed," I said. "Clean and simple. Good work."

"Thanks for helping me, you two," expressed Garrus. "Couldn't have done this without you. Finally feels like I can move on. Think we could get back to the hotel? I haven't had the chance to enjoy it much."

"Heading there now."

As I drove us back to the Kingsglaive, I felt this sense stronger than ever. That Sidonis himself didn't really matter. That he was more of a stand-in for Garrus and Tali both, representing someone else they'd both grown to hate and despise over the years. The original betrayal that had started all of this, everything—we still needed to talk it over. They both needed closure; to finally put this behind them.

After parking Garrus' car, we entered the hotel, taking the elevator up to the top floor. We made our way to the now-empty common room. Taking a seat together over this couch, I gave Tali and Garrus a moment to collect themselves. As they did, I sent Miranda a message, asking if she was awake; if she would be ready to head into Insomnia. She quickly messaged back saying she was getting dressed now, and she would in fact be ready. Nearly 10:00pm. We had some time first before Insomnia came online.

I looked between Garrus and Tali, asking them, "So, are you two all right now?"

Garrus shrugged, saying, "More or less. Pretty sure you picked up on the meaning back there."

"It's a little obvious," I pointed out.

Tali sighed. "I wish my memory would let me _forget_ for one day. Today is Ashley's birthday. Of all days."

Garrus remembered, "The two of us were the same age. I can't help feeling annoyed by the memory myself. Trusting someone like that, only for them to betray you… The reminders never really go away. They stop hurting as much over time. Then a day like this comes up. Feels like fate's toying with me."

"Definitely. But I'm grateful things have worked out the way they did. We have the team again. We have Shepard with us. Not everything is exactly the same. I've found my peace with it."

"Same here, Tali. I'm glad I don't have to keep carrying around that same anger all the time. I know you have your anxiety issues, but they don't seem so bad these days. Think we'll both be fine."

"I'm sure you'll be okay," I agreed. "Try and set this behind you. Both of you. Whatever it takes. I need you focused for the mission. Am I clear?"

"Of course, Shepard," said Garrus.

"Yes," affirmed Tali. "Understood."

And I knew for a fact they would be okay. I knew exactly why. But I didn't want to spoil the surprise.

"Since our business here is done, we'll likely head out tomorrow morning. What else did you have planned for tonight? You going out with the usual gang?"

Garrus told me, "I planned on introducing them to my Dad and sister, yeah. Tali and I will go grab Kaidan and Joker soon. They're getting ready. What about you, Shepard? Any plans for the rest of the evening?"

"Yeah, but it's a surprise."

"Oh?"

Brimming with anticipation, Tali stopped breathing.

"I'm not saying anything more," I teased. "I'd advise you all to stay up late tonight. Just in case."

"Okay, sure," replied Garrus. "No problem. Sounds exciting. We might end up speculating about it."

"And with that, I'd better head off," I announced, standing with them. "Have a good night, you two. If everything goes according to plan, Miranda and I will be in touch with everyone within the next few hours."

After parting ways with Garrus and Tali, I returned to my suite.

I found Miranda back in her Cerberus uniform, fresh out the shower. Of course, we would both end up changing clothes once we entered the VR game. But at least this way, when Liara appeared beside us after exiting the game, Miranda wouldn't be in some embarrassing state of undress. I smiled over Miranda's foresight, kissing her appropriately as my greeting. She smiled at me, coming alive all over again under my gaze. We had this brand new closeness between us, ripe from our time together before. And we didn't need to point it out. We didn't need to say a word. Lying down in bed, Miranda activated our links to Insomnia via our omni-tools, connecting to the VR's servers back on the ship. Just like last time, we both left this plane for another. We ventured off to Insomnia, to this mysterious metropolis. Together we were off to find Liara; off to bring her back home with us at long last.


	52. Insomnia - The Throne

_"Articles of Impeachment" from House of Cards_

**LII.** Insomnia – The Throne

_(Shepard)_

Such a strange sense overtook me, appearing back in this sleepless city with Miranda by my side.

Dressed in my same suit as before, silver chain hanging from my side; and she wore her same all-black, dress-variant of her Cerberus uniform, heeled boots and all. And as we approached the endless heights of this headquarters, this building, this structure of my ego, I felt the obvious. So obvious in this shift around me. Undeniable—a deepening of what I'd felt back on Palaven, doubled and digging in deeper.

Perfect clarity of the night skies above. Endless fogs hazing through my head, weighing and weighing.

Those emotions may have originated from someone else. But they continued on and ended with me.

The disquiet I had felt before—over finding Liara again—had shifted to this obvious, undeniable truth:

This woman walking next to me, her hand in mine: I did not, could not trust her. I couldn't trust her judgment. I couldn't trust her loyalties. I couldn't trust her to _listen_ to my concerns, either. Miranda had her set views. She wouldn't change unless the Illusive Man changed reality for her. No matter how much I loved her, I knew how things would go if I tried to do the same. If I tried to tell her myself. If I tried to convince her of the obvious about Cerberus, her illusions with them. She _would not_ believe my words.

This void, that tear in the fabric of my reality—too many of my weaknesses began slipping through. Old feelings for my ex having resurfaced before. Doubts about my relationship; doubts about our future together. Uncertainty about what to believe, what to feel. No longer air-tight, I couldn't keep deluding myself about her. I couldn't keep saying I would be okay after Miranda inevitably betrayed me. I couldn't keep making excuses or acting like I was okay. I didn't even want to mentally check-out again. I didn't want to continue denying my own reality. I just needed to find a solution.

Somehow, that solution felt much farther away by the second.

So much farther when Miranda and I arrived to HQ, with my car from before nowhere to be found.

"Don't tell me," soured Miranda. "The car is still totaled from when it crashed before. This is a terrible inconvenience…" She checked her omni-tool. "Yes, it looks like the car's still undergoing repairs. The engineers within your ego are working overtime. Sadly, we won't be able to use your car tonight."

I checked my own omni-tool. "Where'd you get that information from?"

"I have a list of ongoing tasks within your ego. I'm aware of what's going on at any given time. Most of it, anyway. I doubt I could learn everything. But it's all here within my databases. You don't have them?"

"No, I just have my menu like any other game. Equipment, credits, abilities, navigation system. That's it."

Miranda decided, "Then we'll have to travel around on foot. Better yet, something tells me you might need to locate Liara on your own. You would know her best for this. I'd rather not slow you down."

"Okay, then," I accepted. "What will you do instead?"

"I'll go check on the car's repairs. After that, I'd like to search around for Oriana's location. You've met her, made that connection. I'm sure my sister is somewhere within Insomnia by now. I'll travel around the public transit until I find her. Send me a message once you've found Liara and you're ready to go."

"That's fine. We can meet up here at HQ."

"Sounds wonderful." Miranda eased her smile over my heated face, loving. "I'll see you later, Shepard."

I watched her head inside the building, feeling at a loss.

I had the automatic understanding that Liara was not inside. Nowhere on these premises. Somewhere out in the city instead. But if she wasn't here, then where the hell was she? And how the hell was I supposed to find her without my car? The public transportation system, maybe… So I checked my navigation system to confirm the nearest metro station. HQ Plaza wasn't too far from my location. The problem was, the fare prices looked ridiculous. A few thousand credits just for a one-way trip?

My current credits on-hand: a grand total of zero.

Grumbling in annoyance, searching around the main menu, I looked for the digital shop. The only way I could make credits was by selling the dreams I'd watched, and apparently collected, from the last time I was here. Joker and Kaidan's dreams. Plus the outward spill of Jack's nightmares. I remembered those Collectors pouring out of her nightclub location, Club Inferno, over in the red light district—not too far from Afterlife where Aria might've been right now, sleeping in real life. I went ahead and sold those dreams. As the transaction went through, I figured maybe I could go to my teammates' nearest locations, farm their dreams, and sell them for the transportation fare, for now. And then…my balance went up to an incredible, unbelievable, enviable sum of _fifteen credits._ Five credits per dream. Seriously.

Was I supposed to go hitchhiking or something?

Miranda sounded confident enough in her plans for the game session. She must've had plenty of credits available in her account. Yet for some reason, I had next to none, even though this was my mind. Was Miranda some kind of VIP in this place? She probably was. I didn't want to borrow money from her, though. I needed to figure this out on my own. Somehow. Or maybe the solution was already on its way.

With that thought, I heard the chiming sounds of a chain-collar, from somewhere behind me.

I turned around and found a wonderful surprise running in my direction.

That same German shepherd dog from before hurried over to me. Major, from the hospital in Kaidan's dream. But if she was out here, then she wasn't just a product of his dream—some character from there. She must've actually lived in this city. And she'd purposely sought me out, happily finding me.

"Major?" I asked, just as she slowed down. She wagged her tail with my acknowledgment.

And she might've barked to say hello, if not for what she had in her mouth.

Folded neatly in place, Major carried what appeared to be a note. She sat down over the pavement, staring up at me; her dark eyes bright with anticipation and devotion. I could tell she wasn't a stray dog, as she'd recently taken a bath. Her shining sable coat looked slightly damp, freshly brushed and groomed as well. So she definitely belonged to someone. Someone who took great care of her. But I couldn't help puzzling over how this pup knew me. She somehow seemed so attached to me, already.

Looking to the note in her mouth, I wondered, "Is this for me?"

Major pattered her front paws atop the ground in excitement.

Smiling over the surprise, I accepted Major's delivery, gently retrieving the note from her mouth. As thanks, I made sure to pet her. Major closed her eyes in contentment, smiling almost. Incredibly sweet.

I opened the note, even more surprised by what this was about and who this was from:

_Shepard,_

_This is very strange. I'm dreaming now, sitting at my desk, in my office at the Citadel. I'm unclear why I'm writing this if I'm supposed to be asleep. But anyway, I've (somehow) approved a shift change for your good friend, Major. She works as a doctor in the hospital at one of our Alliance bases. A dog as a doctor. Can you believe it? Sounds crazy. Then again, I've dreamed of stranger things. Guess this isn't so bad._

_Major will be available to accompany you whenever you're here. Where is here? I don't know. I think you know, otherwise I wouldn't have to do this. Very odd. Very odd indeed. I should wake up soon. Hope you're doing all right out there, wherever you are. Try and take it easy, Commander. That's an order._

_All the best,_

_Anderson_

As bizarre as this seemed, I couldn't help smiling more over everything.

Major certainly looked ready for anything. She waited for my orders, trusting me as her new friend. Or maybe not-so-new, considering how familiar she was with me. So I slipped Anderson's note into my suit pocket, wondering how to proceed from here. If I couldn't find Liara on my own, and I couldn't get to her with the public transit, then I could possibly rely on Major's help instead. The canine she was, that nose of hers—I wondered if her actual master had trained her on how to sniff out someone's location?

And since she knew me, then maybe…

"Hey Major, do you happen to know Liara? Dr. Liara T'Soni. Have you ever met her?"

Excitable again, Major barked a few times. Judging from her reaction, she in fact knew Liara very well.

"Then could you help me find her?"

Whining a bit, Major stared in the direction of the nearest metro station. She somehow knew I had no money in this game. I couldn't pay the fare. Liara's place really wasn't discoverable on foot, then. But Major knew exactly where Liara lived. Was there some alternative way to get there? There had to be. As I looked up at headquarters, at this manifestation of my ego, I imagined my one solution awaited within.

"Come on," I said, guiding Major with me. "Let's head inside. Hopefully we'll find something."

Major stayed at my side. Together we went up to HQ, up the black shine of the stairs—and into the very same black shine of the interior. Yet I noticed an unusual change throughout. These same transparent people continued to roam about—but only the ones wearing Alliance uniforms. Those same floor lights lit up my footsteps as I went along, guiding Major and me both—but only the blue ones, not the red ones. This headquarters raised up the same heights, the many floors towering above; the endless staircases, escalators, and all the dark, reflective surfaces everywhere, widening and broadening this whole space. Unlike last time, I didn't spot a single Cerberus employee, red floor light, or Cerberus logo.

Dapper decadence and corporate competence:

My ego toiled on, stronger than before, yet without that specific _unity_ between red and blue.

At last, my ego had bent beneath the weight of my intolerance, breaking those obvious symbols.

But if this kept up, I worried I would break somehow.

If I kept stressing out about this; if I kept questioning Miranda's loyalties as my one raging insecurity…

Navigating this place, I took Major with me to the central elevator. We went up to the 60th floor, as I remembered from before. That main hub above the foyer, holding all those rooms. Those rooms reflective of my state of mind, whatever I repressed or remembered or regretted at the time. I imagined finding something of Liara in one of the rooms. Something to give to Major, to help hone her sense of smell, to find our target. I wasn't sure if Major would be able to track Liara's scent all across the city like this. But I had to at least try. I had to make the most of my time, all without that ground car of mine.

Passing up these heights, Insomnia's skyline at night rose higher and higher, spread wider and wider. At ease, Major sat closest to the cylindrical glass, staring out in fascination at the sights beyond. I opened my omni-tool again. Checking the menu, I found that Miranda was still in my party—along with Major, amusingly enough. She had joined our party as well. I laughed a bit over Major's photorealistic character model happily wagging her tail next to me in the menu. Checking around, I pinpointed Miranda's location: currently sitting in a VIP metro car underground. So she really had her own credits after all. Yet she'd had no idea that I was broke. Or maybe she had some special permissions, sitting in that VIP area.

I definitely didn't have those same permissions.

Then again, if Insomnia was like the _Normandy,_ this meant I was the captain. I would want my crew to have whatever luxuries they could enjoy. I wouldn't want any of that for myself. I'd make the sacrifice.

Except now, those sacrifices had come back to seriously inconvenience me.

At the 60th floor, Major and I wandered the hallways.

I had no idea where to start. Which door to open. Which option to choose. I assumed I would find something of Liara within, as I'd actively had her on my mind these days. Then again, these doors supposedly kept much more than that beyond. Way more than what I could assume, what I could know in my waking hours, conscious as I was. I had no idea what to expect. That single element inspired my indecision, hesitating to stop at a door, to open a single one. But I had to start somewhere. I just had to.

Taking this chance, I opened a door at random.

Standing in the doorway, I arrived at another dimension of sorts. Two worlds in one—the expected interior of HQ behind me, and this unexpected place in front of me. Club music blasting, entertainment riling. There before me, I saw Aria's Afterlife club on Omega. This prime spot, the raised steps, that leather couch just ahead of me. And Aria herself stood there with her back to me, right in front of her black leather perch. Arms folded, facing Afterlife's central lights of pink and mauve and more. That white of her leather jacket lit up in this spectacle, the brand of her logo, her ego pressed over her back just so.

For some reason, it felt like Aria was waiting for me.

Waiting for me to approach her directly.

_Waiting._

I shut the door as a kneejerk reaction.

Reeling a bit—maybe in denial—I moved on.

I opened the next door.

Again, the dazzle of Afterlife's lights and music and ambiance brightened before me—and Aria's silhouette appeared, exactly the same with her back turned, leaving a long, long shadow behind her.

I shut the door again.

Another door, and another door, and another door—I kept seeing the same fucking thing over and over.

Aria at Afterlife.

Aria.

Aria.

_Aria._

Nearly shaken, disheveled, I let out an unsteady breath. Stuck in a maddened loop, I was about to open another door. Or walk away. I couldn't decide. I had no idea what any of this meant. Why this went on.

But then Major sat by the door I'd just closed. Whining gently, she stared up at me in worry. Tail flapping lightly over the floor, Major appeared expectant. Like she wanted me to face this, whatever it was. I stared back at her, completely at a loss. How did she know? I could only communicate with her via yes or no questions and answers. She couldn't hold a real conversation with me, and yet she knew my mind.

Then again, this understanding of ours seemed more valuable than words.

I opened the door again, stepping inside this time.

The door closed behind me, as if disappearing into the painting of this alternate reality.

Just like before, I found Aria within. Up at the top of this short flight of stairs. Standing by her couch with her back turned, arms folded; gazing out to the expanse of her nightclub. Most definitely waiting for me.

I walked toward the first step, setting my foot there.

The crisp, hardened sound of my boot connecting with the floor's material sounded clearer than it should have. As if I'd somehow forgotten to step quietly, undetectable. More than that, this chain hanging from my side signaled my presence anyway. I could but stare up at Aria in front of me, how she continued to stand there. She'd turned her head toward me, ever-so-slight over her shoulder. Just enough to signal her perception of me. Not enough for her to see this look on my face; the crease of my suit pant lining down my bent leg, staying on this step, staying at this juncture. Waiting for her now.

Aria discarded all emotion from her voice, speaking to me as a stranger—

Yet the substance of her words conveyed the opposite sentiments:

"So you finally decided to show up. You've kept me waiting for a long time, Shepard. A very long time."

"I don't understand, Aria," I tried. "What do you mean, _I kept you waiting?_ What are you talking about?"

The crests atop her head, the pointed ends of them above the nape of her neck—they stayed perfectly still. But from this angle, and from Aria's apparent indifference, that sight seemed to claw at me.

So displeased. "Don't give me that. You should know exactly what I'm talking about."

_Maybe I did._

"No, I don't. Tell me what you mean."

"For the longest, you acted a certain way around me. Like you didn't give a damn. Like you had everything all figured out. You were too busy sleeping with the enemy. You didn't realize how much danger you were in. But now, you're beginning to see. You're finally waking up to your reality. And you know now—if you don't listen to your instincts, she'll only end up destroying you. Just like Ashley did."

Nearly shaken, I asked, "How do you know that? How can you possibly know these fears of mine?"

Aria resumed staring out at the light. "I don't know anything," she claimed. "Not for certain. I only know as much as you do. This 'version' of me, anyway. You can think of me as your voice of reason. I'm telling you the truths you've yet to face. What you run away from each day. Every single time you give her the benefit of the doubt—whenever you hold your fears back, this all gets worse and worse. You won't risk an argument with her because you know how that would go. So you're at least _somewhat_ self-aware."

"Then you think I'm walking into a trap—with Miranda, her loyalty to Cerberus. The Illusive Man."

"It isn't what I think, Shepard. It's what you and I both know."

Of course I knew… "Where is this coming from? How do I know for sure? How do you know?"

"She's still terrified of making a so-called mistake, as you now understand. The thing is, she's naïve. She needs to be secure with you. As long as you keep giving her that security, she'll keep walking you across this plank to the dark waters below. She honestly believes the love you share is enough. Enough to get you through anything the two of you might face. But you and I both know that's not how this works."

Helpless, I needed to know—"What am I supposed to do, then? Walk away from her? Just like that? We have a responsibility. Our relationship is about more than her or me. It's so much more than all of us!"

"I know the stakes. I'm not telling you to change your path. You love her too much for any of that."

"There's nothing I can fucking do, then. _Nothing._ I have to love her…"

Aria went silent for a moment. Not as a pause. But as a challenge.

She challenged me to consider what I had just said.

My obligations…or my own survival.

"The wheels are turning," she noticed. "Let's take this one step at a time. You fell for her because she protected you. Because of her choices, her decisions. _Not_ because of who she is. If you think about it, she gave you no choice but to love her. You felt obligated to return the favor, and so you started dating her quite quickly. Ashley wasn't even dead for a day by the time you made your move. You know why."

"Yeah, because I…saw something in her."

Aria corrected me: "You saw what you wanted to see in the moment. You felt abandoned. Angry and alone. She's maternal enough to sate your needs. But you forget, Shepard. Of the two of us, I'm the one who's actually a mother. Of course I don't act like it. Still, you don't understand how far I would go to protect you. Farther than she ever will. Had you given me a chance, you would've seen this for yourself."

She really did have a point. More than one.

"Aria—am I still speaking to my voice of reason? Or is this _you?"_

"I'm just your voice of reason," she reinforced. "Once again, I'm pointing out what you already know. You fell in love with her because of her decisions. It's only fitting that her decisions will also be her downfall in the end. So I'm warning you, right now—stop ignoring your instincts. Stop falling into your fucking feelings, feeling depressed; acting like you have no idea why. _You do know why._ And stop pretending as if you don't think about me at all. Stop acting like you don't want me. It's getting old."

As much as her words pained me—my own instincts—she was right.

I was right.

Reason and rhyming, rhyming and reason.

I would be a fool to fall into the same traps as before, even after seeing them from lightyears away.

Aria continued on, "If you want the rest, leave this room. Find me in my office. We'll speak there."

"You actually work here?"

"Yes, though the real me isn't entirely aware of it. Not yet. You only have an unconscious understanding of my place in this building, this world, this network. You need more. Head outside and go to the Office of Egotism and Urban Development on this floor. You'll find my unconscious self there. Have that talk."

"Understood, Aria. Thank you for being honest with me. For telling it like it is."

Glancing at me again, she riddled, "I'll always be honest with myself, Shepard. And I know you will, too."

The door reappeared behind me.

I stepped back through the opening, returning to Insomnia's headquarters, back to this hallway.

Back to the silence of this space. I felt the gravity of my realizations pushing up, lifting me to my waking enlightenment. At the same time, the only sounds around greeted me in warmth. I heard the sounds of Major's breathing, interspersed with this clarity. She stared up at me again. Not as worried this time, not as concerned, she looked glad to see me. And I could only wonder what went through her own mind.

"Major, do you know how to get to Aria's office?"

Tilting her head to one side, Major looked stumped.

I asked instead, "Do you know who Aria is? Have you ever met her?"

Still the same reaction.

So she knew Liara, Miranda, and me. But not Aria, for some reason, even though she worked here.

Maybe Major didn't know the particulars of my mind. But she knew just enough to read my emotions.

Checking my omni-tool, I pulled up the navigation system.

_The Office of Egotism and Urban Development._

I had apparently walked past it the last time I was here, without realizing. So I headed in that direction. I didn't need to tell Major to follow me. She stayed right at my heel, keeping me company in comfort.

* * *

At the door to Aria's office, I noticed a strange presence.

Two Alliance marine sentries stood guard at either side of this entrance.

Now that I noticed them, I spotted even more down the hallway, standing guard elsewhere.

The ones here felt more vigilant. As if the sentries had also protected the information within from myself. Because I really had ignored this. Brushed it aside. I'd acted as if I had Aria all figured out. I'd assumed she would keep her ego as that block between us; that she would never change. Besides, I had my relationship with Miranda. What was the point in thinking this deeply and intensely about someone else? I'd already gone through a whole soap opera with Liara—and that same drama had brought me to Insomnia tonight. But as I'd realized earlier, those feelings coming up were just a wakeup call for me. They'd revealed the flaws in my system—my system of putting up blinders and hoping for the best. Hoping for the best with Miranda someday…when I knew just how risky that was. How foolish it was.

The Illusive Man had to know I would figure out this ruse by now.

He knew…and still he encouraged Miranda to be with me anyway.

These contradictions made me suspect he wasn't in complete control here.

Entering this darkened luxury of Aria's office, Major followed me inside this time. Her paws sounded most acute along the dark marble of the floor. Her chain collar sounded just as identifying as she walked along. Secluded and occluded from the general rhythm and routine of HQ, this office space looked a lot like the rest of the building. That same high ceiling. The cinematic views of the picture windows raised up to that height, open to the soaring heights and sights outside in the night. This huge, open space all around, and not a single light—only the natural moonlight shining in, shadowing shades. No computer or desk space. No other items or plants or anything around. No staff anywhere. No other people within, except these reflections over the floor, drawing me with those slabs of fine marble.

Just that familiar black leather couch, facing out to the windows.

And Aria herself standing nearest the couch, using her omni-tool to work.

This change of her outfit, I hadn't expected. The same clothes, but different colors. Black all over in the same places. Violet replaced where the whites and reds had been. This darkness read differently on her.

When she saw me, Aria's surprise certainly brightened more in contrast.

"Captain?" she asked. "I wasn't planning on staying at the office this late. Do you…need something?"

I approached her, saying, "Aria, it's me. I'm actually here."

She seemed to understand.

"You must be using that game of yours. No wonder."

Rather reserved, Major looked up at Aria, observing her.

Reserved and observing right back, Aria took special note of my companion.

"This must be Major," she figured. "I've heard a lot about you. It's nice to finally meet you for myself."

Major wagged her tail, warming up a little.

Aria smirked at her. "How adorable," she said. "Captain. _Shepard,_ I should say. I'm glad you decided to stop by. I'm not sure if you're aware—but _I'm_ not aware of our conversation right now. You are. In real life, I'm asleep in bed. This is all a dream to me. And when I wake up, it's likely I won't remember any of this. But it's not important. You and I need to have this talk. Someday, I'll become aware. At some point in the future, I'll fall asleep and wake up to this unconscious reality. It won't just be a dream anymore."

"When you do think that'll happen?" I asked.

"Well, I'm an asari. You and I have our growing bond. These states of reality are bound to converge for me down the line. I don't believe it will happen any time soon. Besides, you shouldn't worry about it."

"Then should I not bring this conversation up to you in real life?"

"That would be best," decided Aria. "Feel free to hold the information over me. It'll be your special secret for a while. At least until I _wake up._ For now, let's sit and have a talk. Come with me."

Together we sat down on her couch, facing Insomnia's stunning vistas outside the windows.

Aria and I kept a fair distance from each other. In some ways, this felt like a normal business conversation, like the ones we'd had at Afterlife before. In many other ways, this felt like a lot more. Yet we remained too cautious to make it so. Making it with closeness, with proximity. Not now, not like this.

Major situated herself over my shoes, lying down over the floor like that. I felt a pure warmth from her.

Aria told me, "I've seen this with humans and your dogs before. Is there some deeper meaning here?"

"I think it just means she's protective. She's being affectionate. Or maybe she's…worried about me."

"To be honest, I feel the same way. I can tell how alone you are. You're running out of people to trust."

I hated feeling like this—"When you put it like that, I never really had anyone to trust in the first place."

"Not in the way you need, no," agreed Aria. "That strong loyalty you require—unyielding lealty. I understand how much you need it. How much you want to love someone unconditionally. As sensitive as you are, deep down, you need that stability. But you're not getting it out of your relationship."

This was exactly why I'd refused to talk to Aria about Miranda earlier, when she'd called me.

I didn't want to go down this rabbit hole.

I didn't want Aria to tell me what I already knew—what I couldn't keep denying any longer.

Because Aria also knew: "Unfortunately, the same is true of Little Liara. She and your girlfriend have an alliance together. I see it when they interact. They think they know what's best for you. They will always be loyal to that alliance—to how much _they know better_ —over what you actually need. It sickens me."

So Miranda had her own version here. Best of friends with Liara, they were loyal to each other already.

Somehow that didn't surprise me…

Aria wondered, "How are you feeling, Shepard? Really. I want to know. You look…a little lost."

"That's because I _am_ lost," I admitted. "I'm actually trying with Miranda. I'm making a real effort with her. I thought that would be enough. I thought I could just throw myself into our relationship, and everything would work out in the end. Listening to you now, I realize I was too idealistic. And naïve."

"Just because you're trying, that doesn't mean she's worth your time and effort. You see her for exactly who she is—and that person is what you fear most in life. That darkness, the disloyalty. The secrets, the lies. They're supposed to be your clear warning signs. Not an invitation to continue full-steam ahead."

I challenged her, "Aren't you that person, too? Isn't that how you operate on Omega?"

"Shepard, it's how we both operate. When we feel threatened, we retreat to the shadows. We keep our secrets. We maintain our walls, our secrecy. So when you see someone else doing this, even in the absence of any such threats, it causes problems. I'm the same way. We both know precisely what it means to be in that state. We are fundamentally untrustworthy; we don't trust the people around us."

Once again, she had a point. Even in this state, she still acted as my voice of reason.

"Then who are you, Aria? Why should I trust you?"

Aria regarded me in earnest. "People like you and me—what we are, how we've turned out…the only ones we can truly know and trust are ourselves. I am you. And you are me. It's really as simple as that."

"If that's true…how can you sit by and watch me be with someone I don't trust?"

"Well, there's a reason for that. A certain someone assumes I'm afraid to get close. That's why I'm not chasing after you. This may be true in real life. But in this state, I know the truth. I'm biding my time. We asari take the long view in life. It's rare that I act recklessly for short-term gains. This is no exception."

_Biding her time._

_Taking the long view._

This sounded too familiar.

I needed to know, "Then what are you waiting for?"

"I'm waiting for the same thing you are. We both know your girlfriend is supposed to wake up one day. She'll finally see the truth of what Cerberus is. She'll understand the Illusive Man, what he's really about. When that happens, you'll have a choice to make. If you decide that you still love her, and you still want to be with her, then I'll accept the outcome. I'll be heartbroken…but I will wish you the best. But if not, then that's when our dynamic will change. You might decide to be on your own. You might decide to take a chance on me. Or maybe you'll take her back someday. Who knows? We'll have to see."

"Then how do you plan on biding your time? How are you going to handle this in real life?"

Aria quoted Miranda's favorite saying—

_"Never interrupt your enemy when she is making a mistake."_

Her ruthlessness broke at my denials a little more, just a little more.

In the midst of this shattering, Aria encouraged me, "With that said, you don't need to change, or deviate from where you are. Just protect yourself. Keep from getting too hurt when the truth comes out. Whatever happens with the Reapers, and those responsibilities of yours… I promise I'll stick by you. Always. No matter what that may entail. Can you accept this about me? Will you take me at my word?"

"Yes, I will," I told her. "I'll follow your advice, too. I'm just not sure if Miranda will notice."

"She won't notice. _No one_ will. I plan on taking matters into my own hands. With your permission."

"What do you mean?"

"For starters, I'll help you keep a lid on this. Literally. She won't be able to find out. This will keep her from yelling at you, arguing about it. Same thing with Liara. You and I both know how nosey she is. No respect for your privacy. I can limit their knowledge, keeping this information out of their reach."

_"How?"_

Surprisingly gentle, Aria gestured for me to come closer.

As I shifted nearer, Major shifted away. Her chain-collar clinked along; she moved closer to the window, lounging there. Facing that view, she seemed to give us our space like this. She trusted Aria enough. I found some comfort in her trust, helping me relax like this. Lying across this space on the couch; setting my head over the unexpected warmth of Aria's lap. This firm, plush feeling of her fit thighs, welcoming me in this heat—it felt like I'd finally set my head down to rest after years and years of going nonstop.

Going nonstop: never truly resting, never really taking a moment to myself, away from everything else.

Staring out at Insomnia past the windows, this felt like the first time I'd actually decided to lie down.

Aria hovered her hands over my head, silently asking for permission to touch my hair, the length of it.

I nodded.

That alluring gentleness, Aria gave to me as touch, running her hands through my hair. Absolute relief flooded me. Relief to be able to relax like this. Relief that I had found this peace in someone I'd never expected to trust. Even more relief that Aria seemed to make me her exception. She didn't expect anything from me in return. I would've never guessed it, given how transactional she was in real life.

Ever since Eden Prime, my entire perspective of Aria had shifted, changed.

Aria seemed to sense my thoughts.

"This is how," she whispered. "I'll keep your secrets safe with me, locked away in this special place. I know how to cover my tracks to keep anyone from finding out…"

I noticed an eerie condition hanging at the end of her words. "What's the catch…?"

"If you choose to do this, there will be other consequences. That's all. I'm not sure if you'll like them."

"Tell me anyway, Aria. What are these consequences?"

"There's something you should know first," she warned. "Your girlfriend spends a lot of her energy trying to mirror you. Trying to live up to your expectations. Trying to bend herself around what you feel is acceptable. The truth is, she's hiding who she really is. Certainly, her feelings are genuine. She would never set out to hurt you on purpose. But the fact of the matter is, she's not genuine. Not like you are."

Listening to these words echoed at something in me.

Something I had suspected for a long time, but didn't want to face.

Back when I worried about liking Miranda too much, not long after we first started dating—I had sensed this darkness about her. Something of her control, her need to control. Something of her desire to control _me_ in ways I wasn't used to. Ways I had only thought I liked, but actually terrified me in reality.

"Shepard, you already know. If I pull this trigger, the consequences will be obvious. It won't change you at all, because this is who you are. And it won't change her, either. More so, it will reveal who she is. You can think of this as an acceleration process. However she was going to behave in the future, farther down the line, she'll start acting that way sooner. Whether it happens now or later, it truly feels…inevitable."

"You're right," I agreed. "Go ahead and do it, then. I need to see this for myself."

Even with my convictions, I couldn't help worrying over the mirrored issue in front of us.

Aria reassured me, "Yes, I do know how to keep secrets. But I will never keep them from you. I won't lie to you, either. Not directly, by omission. _You've heard it all before_ by this point. I'm absolutely serious."

"I should have every reason not to believe you."

"You should. Yet I know you accept me as I am. You just need the special treatment. I'm giving it to you."

"Why me?" I asked. "I know you have other people after you. Someone in particular wants to be with you again. Why did you decide I'm worth this trouble? Feels like I'm terrible at relationships. Everyone who's with me ends up destroyed, broken. This cycle keeps repeating. I'm the common denominator."

"Shepard, don't," insisted Aria. "Don't get so down on yourself. I know from your memories: what Saren told you years ago. He tried to discourage you from this. He made you believe _you_ were the problem, as if you were incapable of loving someone reliably. Let alone in the way you need, to take down the Reapers once they arrive. It isn't your fault when someone sees your deal-breakers, those red lines of yours, and steps right over them. You haven't done anything wrong. If anything, I wish you would put yourself first a little more. I see your struggles every day. And I just want to take care of you. That's all."

"I never expected this from you, Aria. I never thought I'd end up— _liking you_ like this."

"I know… I don't show this side of myself to anyone. Even Liselle barely sees it. I went through centuries of people tearing this truth away from me. You were the first person to remind me of who I am, what I'm capable of feeling again. So now I'm here for you. Besides, as capable as you are, I refuse to let anything happen to you. If you're not careful, Cerberus might end up ruining you. I don't want that."

"I figured they were up to something. It's another reason why I have these trust issues. Even if Miranda's not involved, her father and her boss are still a problem for me. They always will be."

"Don't worry about any of that, Shepard. I have it on good authority that they won't be a problem for much longer. Cerberus is finished. It's only a matter of time at this point."

"Really?" I asked. Miranda seemed completely oblivious to this. "How do you know? What's going on?"

"The Illusive Man lost one of his top military generals to the Council. He got cocky, overstepped his bounds in Council space. C-Sec and some other Spectres came knocking shortly afterward. This Cerberus VIP sang like a bird, confessing all. Now the Illusive Man is under proper investigation. What the Council discovered was bad enough to void the pact they had with him before. To put it nicely, he's fucked. And even if law enforcement doesn't take him down, Cerberus will implode on itself. That's to say nothing of Mr. Henry Lawson. I predict he'll fall with the rest of them. So you can breathe easy about this."

Breathing easier already, I accepted Aria's verdict and wisdom.

I could finally let go of this strange sense, this deepening despair that had nearly gotten to me.

I could move forward, waiting for the future to play out. Not reacting to anything; _anticipating_ instead.

Aria had given me my solution. Again and again—so very unexpected from her.

As much as Insomnia's darkened reflection glowed over her bright irises, she saw me with such totality.

"Let this play out as it needs to, babe," she soothed, lulling me in languor. "You don't need to fret. You have enough stress in your life as it is. It'll all work out. Trust me. In the meantime, I will keep up appearances as needed. But, eventually…that may change. If you want it to." Aria looked to me, leaning down more, smooth. "You'll learn just how romantic I can be for you. In a ruthless sense. Count on it…"

Smoother than smooth, Aria sealed my soothing with the depths of her breaths over mine. Deep and dark, dark and deep, this shape of her varnished lips vaulted me in place: down under her, wrapped up in this stirring tundra of her emotions. Grayscale I once saw her in, brightening in size and in light and in form—this reality of Aria's truths woke me up. Enraptured and captured, Aria knew just how to bend my mind in place. With this bending, I stayed still in physicality, but this churning in my chest turned me inside-out, steaming and leaning down more as she inched her tongue over and in. This expanse of heat she gave me fleshed out as red all over, tinting my skin and tanning my whole body, singing and singing.

Pathos as shadows, I felt exactly what Aria gave to me.

Dulcet and dripping with meaning, she pressed her pressures into me with the finest of leaning.

Even in this darkness, she gave me the underlying light and optimism in her spirit. So much sunlight raying into me. Such depths of memories she wouldn't recall in the morning, or the next or the next.

Only I would remember this, and Aria gifted it to me anyway.

She had absolutely nothing to gain.

Not in the short-term.

And when she pulled away, I caught the radiance in her eyes. How she gazed at me. How she used her fingertips—trembling ever-so-slight—to blend in these emotions beneath my skin. This violet of her skin, the fashion of her persona, the aesthetic of the markings over her face: she had this power over me.

But after this long, indulgent while, Aria had to look away.

She possessed enough self-control to re-posses herself before me.

Facing reality once more, she murmured, "I know you need my words, Shepard. I know you want to know more about me. You'll find out in my email. I'll try not to take as long, now that I have your curiosity. Expect something from me within the next couple of weeks or so. Can you be patient for me?"

"Yes," I breathed out. "That's fine."

"Good. Now…you should continue on your way. Go find Little Liara and bring her back home. If I knew where she lived, I would certainly tell you myself. But I think you're on the right track. You'll find her."

"Thank you," I said, sitting up anew. Standing tall before her. "I'll let you get back to work, then."

Aria gave me a suggestive look, before opening her omni-tool, dismissing me in an evocative silence.

Major clamored to her feet, staying with me as I made to leave the office space.

Somewhere between the chimes of my own chain moving, I stopped.

Somehow, I knew what else Aria needed to say, echoing across:

"Shepard… Please be discreet. I shouldn't have to explain what I mean."

"Understood, Aria."

Still relieved, and grateful for her exceptions, I left Aria's office, at last absolved of my solvent struggles.

* * *

Back within those hallways, Major and I resumed our quest for a relevant room, a relevant _something._

And after a while, I found a door that seemed a bit different. I opened it, hoping for the best.

Through this different door, I entered into an old familiarity.

Brimming with nostalgia, I found my old room on the original _Normandy._ This deep indigo space from the SR-1 enveloped me in a comforting hold. Everything looked exactly the same. Preserved in this peace from right before the Collectors attacked, destroying so much more than just my ship. I felt at home again. Homely in a way my room on the SR-2 couldn't compare to, I enjoyed this blast from the past. I roamed the space, taking the whole mood in. Remembering my memories. The good and the bad.

As I sat down on the couch, Major sat just by my legs. I scratched the back of her ear, and smoothed down her coat, smiling over her gratified reactions. She seemed to notice something nearby. I spotted the way she stared at the item, sniffing in interest. I looked over in that direction, finding a familiar blue blanket. Major walked over to the blanket, sniffing more at it. She kept on as I picked up the folded blue for myself, finding this soft material with my hands. This breezy scent had stayed within the threading.

"Still smells like her," I muttered. "Major, do you think you can find Liara now?"

Major gave a bark of approval.

"Okay, good. Lead the way. I'll follow you."

Excitable, Major led me back out to the hallway, and over to the elevator. Getting me back outside the building, I hoped Liara's location wasn't too far away. I had promised Garrus and Tali that I'd surprise everyone soon. And I knew I wouldn't come back empty-handed, but this still felt entirely surreal to me.

Though I didn't expect Major to head toward the sight of the Migrant Fleet submerged underwater.

Not too far away at all, this unbelievable locale was just a block down from headquarters.

When we arrived to the sea stacked with the quarians' ships, Major sat before the shoreline. Whining a little, she seemed confused, almost questioning her decision. She sniffed at the ground right at the water's edge, double-checking, triple-checking. But then she started wagging her tail, confirming that this was indeed the correct place. Liara was supposedly somewhere within the Flotilla… Her location was there, and yet I specifically remembered driving past here before. The navigation system had only marked _Tali_ belonging here, not Liara, even though it made sense that they would both be together.

I checked my navigation system again.

"Why the hell is it just showing Tali?" I questioned. "Is this thing broken?"

Something definitely wasn't right.

More than that, I was surprised by the state of the Migrant Fleet. I had assumed before that it was underwater because Tali was upset with me. She and I had our friendship again. And yet her home still remained like this, well out of my reach. So maybe it had nothing to do with me. This was intentional.

I figured the quarians used some type of public transport to get from underwater to Insomnia's surface.

How was I supposed to get down there with no money?

Feeling playful, Major went into the shallowest waters along the nearby incline. She went in just far enough to get wet and swim around a bit. Not too far to risk sinking too deeply. I didn't want Major to try her luck, going farther in and risk drowning. I gestured for her to return to me.

"Major, no," I worried. "You shouldn't do that. There's no telling how deep this place goes. Come back."

Head bobbing along above water, Major paddled back to dry land.

As soon as she made it back, she shook her coat off, sending water flying all over the place.

"Damnit! _Fuck!"_

Cursing more complaints over the sudden onslaught, I shut my eyes, shielding myself from the water. I didn't want to get my hair wet, or my suit! Major drooped her ears in guilt, looking apologetic over what she had caused. But as I expected my hair and my outfit to get ruined, I found the opposite. Aside from the physical sensation of the water hitting me, nothing else had happened. My clothes weren't wet at all. Neither was my hair, my skin. Nothing stuck to me. _Nothing._

The water just rolled off of me like I was made of plastic.

Kneeling down, I dipped my hand into the sea. The same thing happened. The water made contact with my skin, but it slipped away without sticking to me. Gathering my hair in place, I leaned down, drenching my face—and I found that I could still breathe as normal. Underwater, underneath this blue: I breathed as if I were on land, unobstructed and unbothered. Somewhere beneath, I caught a glimpse of the _Rayya,_ Tali's birth ship. She and Liara had to be there. And when I pulled back out, again, I was still dry.

It looked like I had my next solution.

"I should be all right, Major," I said. "I'll swim down and find Liara. Thanks for your help. And for spending time with me." I ruffled up the still-wet fur over her head, glad that Major looked so amused. "Why don't you go ahead and find Miranda? Keep her company. I'll meet up with you two later."

Major barked a few times, circling around me in delight. Then she hurried off in the direction of HQ Plaza, the metro station there. She stopped once, looking over at me. Just to make sure I was okay. Satisfied enough, she continued on her way, filled with such energy and vigor. I envied her innocence.

I walked farther into the water along the shore, steadily submerging myself.

As strange as this felt, I had to trust in the process.

With this trust, I went all-in.

Underwater, breathing as normal, I swam through this sea of surreal wonders. The Flotilla's many ships and their gigantic liveships—each appeared connected to an underwater submarine network. Those transits took their riders from ship to ship, or all the way to the main station closer to the surface, connecting to some other location far beyond. Since the quarians were such isolationists, I wondered if they had done this on purpose, secluding themselves from the rest of Insomnia in this way.

This city felt like such a safe place. Were the quarians just that paranoid?

Or was there some other reason for needing to hide their entire fleet like this?

Unless this was Liara's doing—and she lived down here to escape a certain someone.

Reaching the _Rayya,_ I entered the nearest docking tube. I passed through the space, water draining all around me. The decontamination system started shortly afterward. Then I walked through the airlock, entering to the familiar space of this quarian design. I somehow remembered the way to Tali's house, making my way there. The quarians themselves walked around with their suits and masks, just like in real life. They also paid me no mind, as if they were used to seeing me pass through the area by now.

Right where Tali's house should've been, I instead found a different door.

This looked like the front of Liara's elegant mansion back in Armali, on Thessia.

The door unlocked for me automatically.

I entered to this darkened space, transporting me back to those days I'd spent here. This entrance hall, these hallways, the smaller living room and the larger one; the many guest rooms within this lower floor alone. Liara's childhood home had impressed me the first time, and it only continued to do so this time. That the waters outside existed beyond the windows, like it was no big deal—I stared out in awe, enjoying this ethereal blue nightlight highlighting the space everywhere. And I went upstairs, following this light. Following my instincts. Figuring Liara was somewhere in her room by now. Waiting for me.

Down this hallway, I arrived at the door to her bedroom.

The red of her lock glowed before me.

I remembered our final conversation back on the _Normandy:_

_"Now go to her," Liara had requested, speaking of Ashley. "You can't keep putting this off anymore."_

_"Yeah, okay," I'd accepted. "I'll spare you the details later… But I'll tell you if anything changes."_

_"Very well, Shepard. Whenever you would like us to speak again, please let me know. I will return then."_

With my remembrance, the door to Liara's bedroom unlocked for me, green permissions glowing.

Before I could even knock, the door opened automatically.

I stepped inside to this deep indigo ambiance, just like from my old ship, my old room. Not at all the same as my private cabin, Liara's breezy scent found me throughout. And I found Liara herself, sitting at her desk near the wall. Surrounded by these bookcases and texts, she worked there beneath the light of the sea from the window. If not for those identifiable crests along the back of her head, I might not have recognized her. The fitted lab coat she wore, all-black with violet tints—it gave off a dull shine in this lighting, covering Liara in such a dark luster. One I definitely hadn't expected to find, yet it made sense.

The moment she stopped working, and turned around, I felt the weight of my responsibilities.

Responsible as I was—for ruining her. Ruining her spirit. Ruining her life with my choices.

Even if I hadn't pulled the trigger myself, I still saw the ways I had changed her.

Because when Liara approached me, I didn't recognize this person anymore.

This hard look in her eyes, shielding the remnants of her old self there, somewhere. I felt entirely at fault for taking that away, for leaving mere remnants behind. This harsh edge about her still held something of her. Something of Liara's natural curiosities, her gentleness, her easygoing attitude and mindset.

 _Something,_ but not enough.

The way she regarded me, I knew Liara still felt angry. Angry at me for what I had done. Angry enough to not even want to give me a hug.

As she should have been.

"Liara," I said, hardly recognizing this _moment,_ so surreal. "I think you know I was able to swim here. Was that—did you give me that ability? Seems like it's from you. You know, with the water and all…"

"Yes, it's from me," replied Liara, a stiff cadence to her voice. "You don't enjoy getting your hair wet."

Even with her resentments, Liara still chose to be considerate.

"Well, thanks… Thank you for the sniper rifle, too. The Widow you thought of. I really like it."

"I hoped you would."

Apparently dismissive of my attempts at small-talk, Liara went to sit on her bed. I followed her, stayed in front of her. I stood right before Liara, watching as she watched me. She didn't seem expectant. She didn't seem to know how this talk would go. But I could tell she had waited for this for a long time. The whole time I had spent in my own anger, setting her aside, moving on with someone else, continuing on with the mission, vaguely missing her in the back of my mind—Liara had been here, in this place, working on and waiting, and waiting, and waiting. And now I made her wait more with my blank silence.

So I knelt before her, just so she wouldn't have to keep looking up at me.

And as this deference. Lowering myself like this, Liara took some of the edge off.

She found more patience, listening to my words:

"Listen, Liara. I'm—I'm sorry. I really can't apologize enough for what I did. Everything I did, whether it was on purpose or not. I failed you back then. You didn't trust me enough to tell me the truth. And that's on me. No one else. I should've been that person—when you needed to tell me something, I would've listened to you no matter what. You knew I wasn't. You made that judgment. As much as it hurts, you made the right call. I'm sorry for that. For leaving you behind. _For everything…_ I mean it."

As understandably angry as she was, Liara truly did listen to me.

She couldn't hold her grudges for too long. Not long at all. Not in an obvious sense.

Liara leaned down to me instead. Falling into this forgiveness, she held me around my shoulders, around my neck. She leaned into me, leaned against me. Letting me hold her like this—after so fucking long.

She could've gripped me so much harder in emotion. Yet she chose to hold herself back.

Liara sniffled lightly, whispering in my ear, "I'm sorry as well. For what I did to Ashley while the two of you were still together. And for sharing those intimate details about you with Tali…though my actions had the unintended consequence of keeping her alive. Still, it wasn't my place to divulge those details."

"It's okay, Liara. Don't worry about any of that. I'm just glad you're here. You're all right."

"Mostly… I resent the Illusive Man's claims about me. He believed I could be so easily thrown away. As if I didn't matter anymore. That couldn't be further from the truth. Without me, none of this would be possible. But of course, he doesn't know that. I'm not quite sure if you fully appreciate the truth, either."

I felt such a momentous meaning from those words, those declarations.

Pulling away a bit, looking at Liara properly, I asked her, "What do you mean by that?"

"Miranda may be the one sitting on this throne in your mind, and in your heart. But make no mistake, Shepard— _I am the throne."_

Bewildered, all I could do was stare at her.

Liara had no desire to explain herself. She just moved away from me. Standing up, she turned her back in my direction. Sniffling more, she wiped at her eyes, making certain I couldn't see how many tears she'd shed over me. But she didn't have to show me. I could imagine the view. I could picture how her eyes had welled up, those near-crystals of her kindness shining with her emotions. Mixed emotions, mixing with her lingering contempt, and her newfound pride to not show weakness around me.

I stood up, tried going over to her.

But Liara whisked herself away, off to her desk. Off to pick up the tissue there, still nursing her now-broken pride. Maybe she hadn't wanted to cry around me. Maybe she'd promised herself she wouldn't do it. She let these tense moments pass between us, still as the still-waters shining through her window.

"Liara…"

Emotions under control, Liara spoke through her stuffed nose—"It's going to take time."

"I understand."

I gave her a moment longer to keep breathing normally.

Because I didn't want this to be a foregone conclusion:

"I want you to come back with me. I want you to join the team again. And I want to say it'll be just like old times, but…"

"I'd much rather it _not_ be like old times," said Liara. "I'm looking forward to something different. But I will join you, Shepard. Certainly."

This old feeling of knowing I could count on her again—I would've smiled, if it were appropriate.

I knew it wasn't.

Looking around Liara's library of a room, I asked her, "So…what've you been up to around here?"

"Reading. Studying. Working. Watching over you as best as I can. The usual. My life and routine still haven't changed, even after death. I've remained completely predictable after all this time. Unlike you."

"What's _that_ supposed to mean?"

Reddened as her eyes were, I was glad Liara at least looked at me again.

"You are different," she clarified. "There's another side of you I do not have access to. Another realm of your thoughts and emotions you keep hidden. After all, it's been over two years. I expected you to change. Yet you remain adamant in your belief that people don't change. I wonder if you still think so."

"Liara, that's always been me. I don't like giving away a ton of access to myself. Not even for you. Sorry."

"Maybe that is true. I suppose my full access was a mere illusion before. Not even Miranda can find everything of you. You keep us locked out on purpose. I have to wonder what it is you're hiding."

Aria was right.

Liara _really_ had no respect for my privacy.

All this time she'd spent doing this for me, working here—it only made sense, and yet…

I held on to my diplomacy: "It has nothing to do with you, Liara. Or Miranda. I don't want you to worry."

"Honestly, that makes me worry even more."

Well, this just killed any desire I might've had to at least be _friends_ with her.

I hated this constant, prodding feeling from her. Like she couldn't rest until she knew every single thing about me. I felt the same sense from Miranda, too. And for what, I couldn't know. What was the big deal? Why did they need to know every thought from every crevice of my mind? This didn't affect them.

Liara and Miranda both turned to control when they felt lost.

Meanwhile, my first reaction was to disappear into myself and hide. Two polar opposite approaches.

This look in Liara's eyes, razor sharp, honing in on me—I knew she saw the same. She wouldn't rest until she had mapped out everything of me she possibly could. She would go looking for me whenever I disappeared, on Miranda's marching orders or not. Their dark alliance felt stronger in their similarities.

I realized, then, that I would never have Liara's loyalty again. Not explicitly.

Miranda was her boss, her friend, her ally. I would never have her full loyalty, either. My own girlfriend.

And I was…their test subject to dissect in a lab somewhere.

This already-growing chasm between us, the three of us—Miranda and Liara on one side, and me on another: the space grew and grew, tectonic plates shifting and shaping and changing. More so because Liara looked at me with such suspicion. Like she couldn't trust me _because_ of my need for space. Like she needed to fucking know me so badly, and yet she didn't respect me enough to be my own person. I knew she would drive herself crazy, wondering about these cards I held close to my chest. Maybe she hadn't realized how her power in Insomnia had changed her. Maybe Miranda's own power over me had also started to change her—and if it hadn't already, then it would soon enough. They both revealed my reasons for running away so much. They both saw why I couldn't trust that easily, but they didn't care.

_Nearly all women can stand adversity, but if you want to test a woman's character, give her power._

I feared giving people power over me for precisely this reason.

That they would abuse it.

That they would abuse me, pain me, break me.

That they would take advantage of my dependence on them, making me run away.

I had already suffered enough under society abusing its power over me, growing up. And so I made such a concerted effort not to do the same in my role—with my soldiers, my team. Even if it meant putting on a front of agreeability, I still got the job done. My power over others revealed my empathy in this way. I made myself bend my worst instincts, just to keep my subordinates from feeling the way I had as a child.

I wasn't entirely sure what Liara's power had revealed of her. Patience, prodding. Perhaps paranoia.

I used to think I knew what Aria's power had revealed of her. Hence my initial distrust, turned off by her ridiculous ego. Now, these days, I locked away these secrets I kept of her. These secrets of how I really felt: how much I longed for her, far past my perception. Liara and Miranda kept trying to unlock that.

With Miranda—with that acceleration Aria had promised—I would find her own reveals soon enough.

"Shepard," spoke Liara, having reached my side without me noticing. "You seem lost in your thoughts."

I shrugged. "Just a lot to think about."

"Then I would say we both need time. Time to process these many changes. Don't you agree?"

"Yeah…"

Some part of my heart broke, then, realizing again that we would never be the same.

No amount of _time_ could make our bond go back to the way it used to be.

Maybe to Liara I looked cool and collected—but she couldn't see the pain I felt.

Either way, I resigned myself to accept our new reality. It was out of my control. I just had to let it go.

"It is late, Shepard," announced Liara. "Perhaps we should get going. Is Miranda waiting for us at HQ?"

"She is, yes…"

I wasn't exactly sure if she could swim back up to the surface with me.

Sympathetic, Liara used her omni-tool, trading a large sum of credits to my account.

"Thanks, Liara," I told her, glancing away in embarrassment.

Liara just smiled at me. And it certainly was a start. Together we left her room, left her home, and went back out to the _Rayya._ We took the public transport, riding this submarine-like transit back to Insomnia's main hub. On the way, I noticed Liara didn't have to pay for her own travel. She used a sleek black keycard to avoid paying the fare. I spent the whole ride sitting next to her, wondering about that keycard. Wondering if Miranda had her own; wondering exactly how Liara, Aria, Miranda, and other people spent their time in my mind. Unconscious as their selves were—except for Liara—they had all decided to converge here with me in Insomnia, trusting in this world. But how did they _live_ in this place?

* * *

As Liara and I arrived to HQ Plaza, I wondered more about Insomnia's many mysteries.

Heading through this underground entrance to headquarters, I questioned just how far this all went.

This world, this universe seemed so much larger each time I observed it. So much more expansive, with secrets and possibilities hidden around every corner. I could never know everything here. Yet everything here certainly knew me.

At the usual ground floor area, we found Miranda waiting for us.

Liara went over to her first, the two of them smiling from ear-to-ear. They hugged each other, exchanging warm words, like two best friends who hadn't seen each other in years. Meanwhile, I looked around for Major. I thought that she would be here by now. I did ask her to wait for me, after all…

Still smiling, Miranda knew. "Looking for someone, darling?"

"Where'd she go?" I worried. "You didn't send her home, did you?"

"Not at all. Major needed to go fetch something else for you. I'm sure she'll be back soon."

"Oh, okay," I accepted, relieved. "I'll just wait for her, then. Why don't you two head back? I'll catch up."

"Yes, we'll do that. Liara and I will wait for you in the hotel room. I'll send out the announcement for everyone else to gather in the comm room on the ship. By the time you're finished with Major, the others should be ready for us. We'll head in after them for the big surprise."

"Sounds good." I looked to Liara again, still getting used to her presence. "I'll see you in a bit, then."

She smiled with more ease this time. "Of course, Shepard. We will wait for your return."

Miranda and Liara both used their omni-tools to exit the game. Just like that, Liara could head back with no problems, returning with us to the living. Back to the team, back to her own worldly concerns. And hopefully back to keeping Tali safe, happy. I needed them to take care of each other where I couldn't.

That familiar chain-chiming sounded nearby.

Major rounded the corner, finding me waiting for her.

This time, she had another note of sorts in her mouth, apparently for me.

But when I tried to accept it from her, Major moved out of my reach. Playful, she spun around, leading me to the elevator in her own goofy way; constantly looking back to make sure I followed her.

"Hey!"

I hurried on in her wake, wondering what this was all about.

In the elevator, Major finally just sat down. She let me take the note from her mouth, looking quite pleased with herself. I had to smile over how silly she was. But as I opened the note, I felt my smile disappear, practically fading into my face. _Vaporizing._ Not to anger, but to total shock and surprise.

The rose-scented perfume over the page. Tom Ford. _Tom Ford_ perfume that I'd bought her years ago.

No fucking way…

_Skipper,_

_Yeah, it's me._

_I know you weren't expecting this. And I know you have to leave again soon. I won't take up too much of your time. I just wanted to say…I'm sorry. I've been doing my time, so to speak, here in Insomnia. I've had a ton of time to think about what I did. What I put you through. What you're still going through now._

_I don't think you realize how much trouble you're in, Shepard. I guess you're an optimist at heart. An idealist. You always wanna see the best in the people you care about. But I'm sure those instincts of yours are going off these days. They're going off for a reason. A real, serious reason. Believe it or not, I'm doing my best to help you out where I can. There's only so much I can do like this. I'm mostly shackled._

_You'll find something else with this note. It's my old executive keycard. It's useless now, since I'm not the 'boss' anymore. She deactivated it when they all kicked me out of HQ—after you-know-what happened. I need you to reactivate it again. Scan it with your omni-tool and I'll be good to go. Give it back to Major, and she'll deliver it to me. Or keep it for yourself and do whatever you want with it. It's your decision. With all the security the current boss has set up, I already know I can't get inside the building. I'm not trying to sneak around your ego where I don't belong. For now, I really only need to get around the city._

_Just to prove I'm serious, I want you to do something else first. Go up to the board room on the 60th floor. The Alliance marine sentry will let you right in. You'll find a control panel on the screen at the far end of the room. Use that panel to bring up the board meeting from before Eden Prime. I don't personally know what's on that recording. But it's the first day Aria joined the board as an official member. Something tells me you'll find what you need on there. Something that might resonate with you; strike a nerve._

_And if you won't do this for yourself, then do it for me. As my birthday present. You and I never got to spend my birthday together. It looks like we never will. It'd still be nice, though. Almost like old times._

_Love,_

_Ashley_

With shaking hands, I found the sleek black keycard she'd included.

_President and Second-in-Command of Insomnia – Lieutenant Ashley Madeline Williams_

I stared at this card, the light of the elevator gleaming and beaming off of this meaning.

Meanwhile, Major stared up at me. Not quite expectant like before. But she had her hopes. She wanted me to follow Ash's request. She wanted me to do this. And I couldn't possibly fathom Ashley manipulating a dog, just to pull at my heartstrings like this. No…I felt only the purest of intentions from Major, as expected. She was only an animal. Why would she want to lead me astray? _How_ could she?

Ashley's truths seemed much more nebulous in comparison.

Nebulous as they were, I still pressed the button to the 60th floor. The elevator took us upward again.

I felt these temptations to return to Aria's office.

At the same time, this shock from Ashley consumed most of my energy. I couldn't conceive the idea that she was actually out there, somewhere, and not as that fiery demon-boss I'd encountered. This version of her seemed much more tame. _Normal._ Like it was her. The Ash I remembered from before I had died.

Or maybe that was just wishful thinking…

I set this _idealism_ of mine aside, arriving to the 60th floor once more.

Major followed me to the board room. But she didn't go inside the room with me. She elected to stay outside, sitting just by this Alliance marine sentry standing guard. I respected her decision and went in. Into this showy space, reflecting so much of headquarters, the décor all around. And I found this long table in the center, the reflective surface giving off such a sheen of polish. I spotted that vid screen Ash had mentioned in her letter, there at the far side of the room. The leather chairs I passed by—they each had certain information written on them. Information about who they belonged to, who belonged here.

The first chair nearest the exit…

_Head of Egotism and Urban Development – Aria T'Loak_

Just like the name of the office I'd found her in.

The other chairs had these other familiar names. Kaidan, Garrus, Joker. Their job titles, their ranks.

Nearest the head of the table, these chairs read:

_Head of Metaphysical Engineering – Tali'Zorah vas Neema nar Rayya_

_Vice President of Insomnia and Head of Science & Research Division – Dr. Liara T'Soni_

This all sounded like a big deal. A huge fucking deal.

Why hadn't Liara mentioned it when I asked? When I asked her what she had been up to around here.

Not to mention the chair at the head of the table, explaining all in these plated words alone:

_President and Chief Executive Officer of Insomnia – Miranda Lawson_

The current boss—without a doubt.

I arrived at the vid screen, checking for what I needed to find. The most recent briefing from before Eden Prime: apparently this was only one of many. One of many, many other meetings they'd held in this room as executives. Though not all of their meetings had everyone present. From what I could tell, in recent days, most of the other, non-briefing meetings were restricted to Tali, Liara, and Miranda. The notes on these other meetings explicitly restricted Aria's attendance. It seemed…oddly cliquish to me.

For now, I played back the recording from before Eden Prime.

I sat down in Miranda's chair, facing the vid screen. Watching these memories play back. I observed as these 'executives' began filing into the room. Garrus, Kaidan, Joker together, taking their designated seats around the table. Tali shortly afterward. Then Liara. Aria followed not long after her, attracting everyone's stares. She appeared fashionably late—or that was the energy I picked up on from the room.

_"Hey there, Aria," welcomed Kaidan. "Good to see you on your first day. Getting used to the changes?"_

_"Changes?" sneered Aria. "What_ changes _are you talking about, Alenko?"_

_Garrus cleared his throat. "Think he means the, err, added benefits. Special treatment. VIP?"_

_"Oh, please. I can assure you this is nothing new. I've had my own executive keycard since day one. The only difference between then and now is I actually get to sit here with all of you. Nothing's_ changed _at all."_

 _Full of contempt, Tali muttered under her breath,_ "I knew it."

_Joker blurted out, "What?! How the heck did you have your own keycard already? Did you steal it!?"_

_Aria waved her hand at him. "As if I'd ever have to resort to stealing to get what I want. If you must know, it was already waiting for me when I got here. To Insomnia. The second I woke up in my room at Afterlife, there it was, sitting on my nightstand. The keycard even had my name on it. So I used it to travel around the city as I pleased. Never got in trouble. No one ever told me I wasn't allowed to use it."_

_Kaidan seemed at a loss. "Well that's—surprising."_

_Joker coughed. "Not really, dude."_

_"Oh… It's not, huh?"_

_Garrus shrugged. "Guess not."_

_Aria questioned them, "Just what are you boys on about? Don't keep me in suspense now." Too tongue-tied to answer her properly, Joker, Kaidan, and Garrus said nothing further. "Figures. Well, this seems like a wonderful start to our working relationship. I ask you basic questions, and you can't even give me a straight answer! It makes me wonder what's really going on around here." She then looked to Liara. Leering in superiority. "And if it isn't Little Liara, sitting in the big VP's chair. I have to say, it suits you."_

_"Hello to you, too, Aria," said Liara, appearing to dread the conversation already. "Your sarcasm is also duly noted."_

_Chuckling in amusement, Aria gave a false smile._

_"That wasn't sarcasm," she claimed. "I meant what I said,_ Madam Vice President."

_"I don't believe you at all."_

_"Thankfully, you don't have to. You can take my praise in stride. Or you can be difficult. It's your call."_

_This vid screen along the wall had turned on._

_The display showed the current, real-time events within the Normandy's comm room. Legion had arrived first, taking its place near the head of the table. The others began to file in as well—Samara, Mordin, Thane, EDI, Zaeed. Jack and Kasumi entered the room together, not saying anything, yet giving off the air that they'd had quite the involved conversation before arriving. James shuffled in after them, attempting not to draw attention to himself, yet failing miserably. Given his sheer size, it was difficult_ not _to notice him. Jack glared at him accordingly, causing James to shift around in his standing location._

_Kaidan, Garrus, and Tali entered the comm room next—stifling yawns, attempting to find more alertness. They'd apparently stayed out at the 94 with Joker all night. Grumbling over their lack of sleep, they continued talking to one another. Hoping the conversation would wake them up for the mission._

_Fully awake in the board room, this Tali glared at Aria across the table._

_"Just so you know, Aria," she began, venomous. "We're taking a risk in bringing you aboard. Allowing you the_ privilege _of serving our captain this way. I disagree with your sweeping plans to strengthen her ego. And yet the boss has decided you're going to be an asset. The least you could do is respect Liara."_

_Aria knew better than to argue the point._

_Yet she regarded Tali anyway, getting a better look at her. Seeing her actual face unmasked like this._

_"Cute," she said, amusement dripping with disdain._

_Tali huffed over the dismissal. Aria chuckled again. Entertained by Tali's attitude toward her._

_Through the vid screen, Miranda entered the comm room. Inspiring the team to lower their voices._

_At the same time, in the board room, the boss arrived in-sync. She had her own security agent—another version of me—dressed in a suit, with a shirt underneath of a Cerberus orange. The boss herself wore the same thing Miranda had on whenever she visited Insomnia with me._

_Out of pure respect, the executives all stood up upon her arrival._

_Everyone except for Aria. She remained sitting in her seat. Purposefully choosing not to follow protocol._

_Garrus, Joker, and Kaidan began to sweat over the snub. Over what this could have devolved into. Tali scoffed in disapproval._

_Liara merely observed as the boss approached Aria in her chair. Glaring down at her._

_Superior in status and stature, the boss spoke with her authority: "How wonderful to see you, Aria. I would've commended you for being on time. Yet it seems you're determined not to earn any praise from me. It doesn't matter. I'll just ask you plainly. Would you mind following everyone's lead and standing up when I enter the room? Or would you rather I fire you on your first day of the job? Should I decide to terminate you, your executive keycard will be useless, effective immediately. As would any other special permissions from the captain you no doubt enjoy on your free time. The choice is yours."_

_Aria stared at the boss, her eyes hollowed and vined by hatred and envy._

_She still placed her hands over the polish of the wooden table. Standing up appropriately._

_The boss sneered, "That wasn't so difficult, now was it? Be a good girl and remember this for next time."_

_Ignoring Aria's growing ire—nails digging into the table—the boss crossed the room to the head of the table. Tali snorted back her laughter, maintaining a modicum of respect as the boss walked behind her. Joker, Kaidan, and Garrus looked absolutely stunned, floored by the boss' implications. Liara showed some amount of shock over the exchange._

And I stopped the goddamned recording at that.

I quickly found another command on the screen: checking for similar instances. This obvious instance. This obvious fucking thing I couldn't stand, when people in power abused their authority to humiliate their subordinates. For no apparent reason. Just to do it. Just to make an example out of them. Just to make themselves feel better over having that kind of influence over another being.

Specifically checking for Miranda's repeated instances, the automated search turned up several hits.

Several hits from these recent, non-briefing meetings in the board room:

Where Tali, Miranda, and Liara sat around talking about Aria, specifically. Strategizing about her new place on the board. Trying to figure out why I had apparently given her such permissions from day one. Trying to scope out Aria's angle; to figure out what she was hiding, what she was up to. And all the while, they talked shit in their own ways. Insisting Aria was delusional and desperate for feeling anything for me, for wanting me at all. Making fun of how alone and isolated she was in Insomnia with no allies.

I jammed at these automated search commands, flipping through more. More of them. More of them. More and more and more and more and more in these recent days, in these recent weeks—even going back to March when I had first met Aria, when these three first had a reason to start talking about her. The same things came up over and over again. Their disdain for her. Their distrust of her. Their determined mocking of her feelings for me, knowing back then I wouldn't go for someone with that much of an inflated ego. And yet that same dehumanization continued on and on and on to this day.

Out of a sense of _fairness,_ I ordered the search to find anything similar from Aria herself.

Something that would _strike a nerve_ for me, as Ashley had predicted.

Nothing came up.

_Nothing._

No conversations Aria had with other people. No actions she'd done on her own. Not in this board room. Not in her office. Not in the hallways of this headquarters. Nowhere in the city, on the public transport, or out anywhere at all.

Instead, I found Aria's current location, right this second.

Apparently at home in her room, she lay in bed. Curled up in bed. Facing away, facing down. She curled her whole body beneath the sheets, the bare of her back baring her spine teething underneath her skin. And Aria gripped her hands around her arms, gripping at herself, gripping. Trying to hold on. Holding on to so much pain. Not sleeping at all. Up in the middle of the night like this. Suffering in complete silence.

Fully respecting Aria's pain, I turned off the screen.

I stood up from the boss' chair. The President's chair.

I retrieved Ashley's inactive keycard.

I used my omni-tool to scan it, reactivating her permissions. I folded her letter to me, pocketing it safely.

And I left the board room. I left, finding Major outside, still waiting for me.

She could see in my eyes that something had changed.

And she accepted Ashley's keycard from me, wholly without judgment. She settled for circling around me, showing her protectiveness in this way. Major then took off on her own, not needing to wait for a word, for an order or my permissions. I would quit the game and return back to real life soon enough. Sooner than soon, as I had little time to waste. So little time to waste and spend and burn on myself, needling this heated thread through these repeated patterns, repeating and repeating and repeating, sewing straight through my tolerances, bleeding my heart like this. All for the absolute last person I would've ever expected to feel this way for.

Once again, this fucking cycle continued.

_Power tends to corrupt, and absolute power corrupts absolutely._


	53. Pragia

_"The Cycle Continues" from The Last of Us Part II_

**LIII.** Pragia

_(Miranda)_

A mere impossibility weeks, months, years ago, now a reality today:

Liara stood beside me in this hotel room. She stared out the same windows as I did. Her eyes lit up by the same sights as mine did: the night city glittering in Palaven's silver, sculptured ingenuity. We shared in this quiet moment for a while, waiting for Shepard to return. I let Liara regain her bearings, getting used to living beyond Insomnia again. She seemed to appreciate these sights before us, finding them familiar. So I assumed my thinking had been right before, about Liara having visited Palaven's mountains in the past, causing these more recent changes with Shepard's emotions. And I could understand the idea, intellectually. Yet the thought continued to bother me. Chipping away at something in my heart.

Even more went on with me, somewhere.

But it felt oddly freeing. Oddly, because perhaps it shouldn't have been. And yet it truly felt as much.

"Miranda," said Liara. She found my gaze reflected in the glass. "Is there something on your mind?"

"I… I don't know. Rather, I'm not sure how to explain it. Just a few growing pains, I suppose. Hopefully."

"Hmm." She still worried for me.

"It's nothing, really," I promised. "What about you? How are you feeling now?"

Liara touched the cold silver separating the windows. "As surreal as this is, I'm enjoying the changes. I spent so long merely watching the galaxy through Shepard's eyes. Actually feeling these sensations again, being present in this space—it reminds me of what I'd lost. I'm beginning to appreciate it more."

"You're relieved to be back, then?"

"Yes, very much so." Liara gave a more pointed tone: "Thank you for dealing with that issue for me. From before. Months ago. You pulled off what I had been meaning to achieve on my own. We both know how that turned out. You were quite masterful in your planning and execution. I commend you."

"Of course," I replied, glad for her gratitude. "You and I established how dangerous she was. She needed to be dealt with. The more time passes, the less guilty I feel over what I did. It was a simple necessity."

"You shouldn't feel any guilt for what you achieved. It was necessary, as you said. I know you will always do whatever is needed, whenever it is most important. To that end, I can tell there is something else on your mind. Perhaps something you've been meaning to discuss with me. Or am I misreading you?"

"No, you're right… I'm surprised you noticed, that's all."

Liara smiled at me with such ease. "Miranda, I know you better than you might think."

I laughed in comfort. "Well, I suppose you would by now."

"So tell me," she encouraged. "I'm happy to listen."

Shepard would reappear in the room at any moment now, after quitting the game.

But if I held this in any longer, I feared the words would burst inside of me, shrapnel scraping my heart.

"I suppose I'm just—afraid," I admitted. "Afraid of not living up to Shepard's expectations. Terrified of leading her astray; making some terrible mistake she and I might never recover from. I could hurt her, break her heart somehow. And then our bond would end up broken. The Reapers would destroy us all—because of me. Because I couldn't keep this relationship going. It's honestly too much for me to handle."

Liara knew. "You haven't shared this with her."

"Liara, _of course not._ What could I possibly say to her? I've done my best to hold on. To find my own ways of coping. Listening to Thane, his notions of faith and belief…it helps. For the most part. But there are times when even that won't help. I don't want to show Shepard this weakness of mine. I can't do it."

"You're ultimately worried this will end up compromising the mission."

"Yes… Shepard wouldn't accept that. After all, it's my _belief_ in her abilities that will get us through this."

Liara pointed out, "Miranda, it isn't _her_ you're doubting. You are doubting yourself. There is a difference. I don't believe this would have the same effect. Shiala hasn't contacted you after your meeting on Illium, has she? To warn of any rifts or dangers with Shepard's connection with you?"

"She hasn't," I remembered. "So perhaps you're right. I'm worrying myself sick over nothing, it seems."

"You've always been the worrying type," she teased.

I smiled at that. "I suppose that's true. No news is good news with Shiala. That's a relief. Thank you."

As Liara and I continued speaking, I wondered about something else. If I should ask for her promise to not _do_ anything with Shepard. To not go after her behind my back. Yet for some reason, it felt as if we'd already had this conversation before. I truly felt as if I already had Liara's promise on the matter. Asking her about it now would have been redundant. I already knew I could trust her. And yet I had such a difficult time trusting Shepard with these more painful secrets of mine. I really wished this wasn't so.

Perfect timing—Shepard reappeared in the room, closer to the bed, after exiting the VR game. She glanced over at Liara and me together, finding our eyes on her as we spoke on. Respecting our ongoing talk, Shepard kept to herself for now, going over to the holo-closet. She changed from her stealth suit into her formal Alliance officer's uniform. I would never get over how handsome and put-together she looked, dressed up in such a way. She took her duties seriously as our captain, and I admired that of her.

Approaching us now, Shepard asked me, "Do you have everything, babe?"

"Yes, I do," I confirmed, smiling more. "We're ready to head off if you are. The team's waiting for us."

Liara mirrored my smile, prepared to return to the _Normandy._

Shepard nodded in acknowledgment, leading us out the room.

As we went downstairs to the lobby, to check-out from the Kingsglaive, Liara and I shared more conversation—about the hotel, about Palaven, about everything. We kept our eyes to the back of Shepard's head, to the sheen of her long hair, to her strong back and stature as she walked ahead of us.

Back on the ship, I expected Liara to look around more. But of course, I remembered this was technically nothing new for her. As we passed through the empty bridge, I felt her anticipation growing, positively.

"Welcome aboard the new _Normandy,_ Liara."

She beamed at me. "Thank you, Miranda."

Through the lab, we had nearly reached the comm room.

Even from here, Shepard, Liara and I could hear everyone's fervent speculating.

I announced, "Let me go in first. I'll try to corral everyone; get them to settle down. Once they do, feel free to come in the room. I doubt this will end up being terribly formal."

"Yes, I agree," noted Liara. "Shepard and I will wait here. You go on ahead."

Shepard gave me a stoic nod.

I couldn't help smirking at her, making my way to the comm room.

Rowdy and informal as informal could be, I found everyone at the center table. Standing near the table, sitting on top of the surface, leaning there—no real regard for any sense of order, the team speculated on and on about what awaited. Joker and Dr. Chakwas had joined the group, per my request. They had joined in with Legion, Zaeed, Garrus, Mordin, Jack, Tali, Kaidan, Kasumi, EDI, Samara, Thane, James, and Javik, with everyone speaking as one large group, disparate conversations all melding into one. For once, they didn't exactly calm down once I entered the room. Instead, they ramped up their discussions, now bombarding me with questions. I couldn't understand a word anyone said, words jumbling into a mess.

Taking my spot near the head of the table, I gestured for the group to settle down.

"Listen to me," I said, forcing a quieted calm in the comm room. "You'll have your questions answered in a moment. I only need you to be patient. And I know it's late. This will just take a little while longer."

Joker could hardly contain himself. "C'mon, Miranda, not even a hint? You really gonna make us wait?!"

Dr. Chakwas teased him, "I'm sure you can be patient for just a bit longer. The same goes for all of you."

"I don't know, Doc," said Kaidan. "Feels like a pretty big deal. Like a game-changer. Not sure how else to describe it. There's this _feeling_ in the air. Can't quite put my finger on what it is. Seems important."

"Important, momentous, indeed," agreed Mordin. "Rare for Shepard to offer surprises, instill such anticipation. Typically not one for excitement. Must be important matter, as Kaidan said. Going about surprise with _surprisingly_ playful methods. Unexpected, not-expected. But quite fun! Can't complain."

Rather emotional, Tali held onto Garrus' arm for support. More than anyone, I sensed her hopes. Her wants. Her truest anticipation over what this could have been. Garrus was kind enough to stay strong for her, though he of course had his own wonderings. They both supported one another in their silence.

Pensive as always, Thane and Samara remained even quieter. They exchanged whispered words with one another. If I didn't know any better, Samara somehow seemed to know what this was about.

Meanwhile, the rowdiness and energy about the room were just about to rise again—in impatience.

Until the door to the comm room slipped open.

Until Shepard walked in, keeping her own supportive arm around Liara's shoulders.

Unusually timid—even for her—Liara kept her head down, unable to face everyone all at once like this.

The comm room erupted with everyone's joyous shock and awe. Calls of Liara's name, cries of incredulity, shouts of wonder and amazement and glee. The whole team quickly congregated near the door with Liara and Shepard, needing to get a better look. Needing to make certain that this was _real._ Quicker than my eyes could see, Tali bolted over to Liara first. She beat the rest of the crowd, hurrying along, hardly holding back her tears of joy. Before Liara could realize what went on, Tali all but tackled her with a hug. And the whole team watched as Liara smiled, holding her best friend close. Tali cried and cried against her shoulder, continuously shaking her head in disbelief. Nearly everyone else smiled and laughed, save for Javik, who had settled for standing just nearby.

Emotionally-removed from the moment, Javik at least appreciated how our teammates felt. He remained respectful enough, much to my surprise. But I couldn't expect any less from him.

The first coherent words came from Legion—"Greetings, Dr. T'Soni."

Liara no doubt recognized Legion's voice from its call about the Lazarus Project.

"Hello, Legion. It is good to meet you at long last. All of you. Thank you for the warm welcome."

Everyone smiled at her—again, except for Javik, who continued to observe the group from a distance.

Liara noticed him as well. She seemed to want to interact with him, yet she held off for now. I could imagine her paying Javik a visit at a later, less hectic and crowded time.

Going along with this informal flow, Shepard elected not to take her spot at the head of the table.

Instead, she stayed right where she was, speaking up: "Looks like Liara doesn't need any introductions. And I know you'd like to spend some time with her, ask questions, show her around the ship. So let me just get this out of the way now. Liara, I'm assigning you as our second science officer, along with Mordin. You can link your Prothean studies to the Collectors, gathering data and analyzing it from your unique perspective. Feel free to work with Mordin in the lab whenever you're up for it."

"Of course," accepted Liara, exchanging smiles with Mordin as well.

Shepard offered her hand. "Welcome back to the team, Liara."

Liara shook her hand, bright with optimism. "Thank you, Commander. It is nice to return home."

"On a final note, we have the full team now. This is everyone, plus Aria and Wrex later on. No more surprises—officially. Mordin, how's progress going with that simulation? Are you still working on it?"

"Yes, progress ongoing!" confirmed Mordin. "Assistance from EDI, Legion, Tali ensures project will be success. Still need time to solve bugs, deal with various glitches. Will have simulation ready for Armax Arena on Citadel in next few weeks. Suggest handling personal missions for team members until then."

"Understood. I'll let you all catch up with Liara, then. Dismissed."

Surrounding Liara once more, everyone did their best to not bombard her with questions. She somehow kept up with our conversations—accepting Garrus' invite to _TRS,_ accepting my explanation about her room in the officers' section of the crew's quarters, accepting the team's offer to show her around the new _Normandy._ Somehow, in the middle of our discussions, Shepard had disappeared without a word. I hadn't noticed until Tali looked around, expressing her disappointment, as she had wanted to give our captain a hug as thanks for the surprise. Not one for all this noise, Shepard had already taken her leave, vanishing through the crowd on her own. Thinking nothing of it, the rest of us continued on playing host to Liara as her homecoming. At last our team for the suicide mission and beyond was fully complete.

* * *

Without a doubt, Liara's return had brought the team much closer together.

Her presence sealed a gap I hadn't realized was there. Several gaps, really. I couldn't have been happier.

Allowing some time for Liara to settle in, these couple of weeks passed to the beginning of May. During this brief lapse, Liara had spent a significant amount of time with me—here in my office, or in the lab with Mordin, or in her room with Tali for the three of us as a group. Much to my relief, Tali and Liara as a trio with me shared my concerns. We usually spent our time together discussing Aria, what to expect with her. I remained pleased, discovering that the three of us essentially felt the same way about our other asari teammate. We bonded over our shared distrust of her. How convinced we were that she had no chance with Shepard whatsoever, and yet Aria's delusions would always claim otherwise. Amusing and entertaining, I enjoyed sharing in these sentiments with Liara and Tali both, glad to have this alliance with them. More so with Tali, as she'd been avoiding me before. Certainly no more these days.

Meanwhile, Shepard used this time to interact more with the rest of the team. I appreciated her taking the initiative like this, speaking with everyone more often. Yes, she and I made the sacrifice of spending less time together. We hadn't had sex since our time on Palaven, though that night in the hotel room remained no less vivid and emotional for me. But I was all too happy to make that sacrifice for the mission. I _wanted_ Shepard to get to know the team better, for them to trust her more on a personal level. She had finally taken the steps to ensure that on her own—without needing me to remind her.

At some point, Liara and Tali separated from me, off to spend time with the rest of the original team—Joker, Kaidan, Dr. Chakwas, and Garrus. While they all shared a meal together in the mess hall, I went to visit Thane in the life support area. I expected to find him reading again. Instead, Thane merely stared out at the drive core pulsing past the window. He sat at his table in a pensive silence, as usual for him.

But something of his thoughtfulness seemed rather somber today.

"Do you need something?" asked Thane on my approach.

I wondered, "Have a few minutes to talk?"

"Certainly," he allowed. "We haven't had a chance since Liara's return. Understandably so."

"I apologize for the wait, Thane. I only wanted to help Liara settle in first. She's doing fine now."

"But of course," said Thane, gesturing to the seat in front of him. "Please sit, Miranda."

"Thank you," I accepted, resuming this ritual of ours. "I recall you were once gravely ill. Kepral's Syndrome, I believe it's called. Is there any chance your illness might return, even after treatment?"

"It is an improbable chance, but not impossible. Though the illness is not communicable, even to other drell."

"What exactly was the problem before?"

Thane explained, "My people are native to an arid world. Most of us now live on Kahje, the hanar homeworld, as you know. It's very humid, and rains every day. Our lungs can't deal with the moisture. Over time, the tissue loses its ability to absorb oxygen. It becomes harder to breathe. Eventually, we suffocate. Drell have such a close relationship with the hanar. We rely on each other. Not living on Kahje is frankly impossible, hence the hanar's quickness to formulate a cure for our woes. I was fortunate enough to benefit from their hard work. We also keep our homes very dry inside, whenever possible."

"You know, aside from what you've told me, I'm not all too familiar with Kahje. What is the planet like?"

"It is a beautiful world," he said, smiling gently. "The dangers of the constant rains pale in comparison to Kahje's celestial wonders. Other drell live within the city of Cnidaria—a domed, climate-controlled location, mostly safe from the humid rains outside. Beyond Cnidaria, most of Kahje's surface is covered by a vast ocean, known as the Encompassing. Several white clouds blanket the planet's surface as well, covering the world's many Prothean ruins, underwater volcanoes, and other religious holy lands."

"That sounds fascinating," I remarked. "Have you explored the planet at all beyond your domed city?"

"Yes, I have traveled all across Kahje for my assassination contracts. It is said the Gates of Paradise are found within Kahje's celestial capital, Al'Taieu. The hanar's many government buildings are also located in Al'Taieu, such as the Grand Palace of Hu'Xzoi, where the Illuminated Primacy hold their most sacred meetings. You will find several other historical locations across the celestial capital, such as the Empyreal Paradox. Many a traveler has looked directly into the souls of their companions within the Paradox, surrounded by the crystals there. The hanar derive their Soul Names from this phenomenon."

"I have to say, that does sound quite beautiful. I regret never traveling to Kahje myself. Aside from visits to Earth, Illium, and the Citadel, I'm afraid I don't get out much. You've broadened my horizons already."

Thane gave a sad smile. "I am glad to hear it, Miranda."

That dour mood of his seemed undeniable now.

"Thane? Is there something wrong?"

"Well, yes… Now that you are here, though—it seems more difficult to talk about."

"Have you been dwelling on the illness you had before?"

"I suppose that is part of it," admitted Thane. "My mortality has me _dwelling_ on things, certainly."

Needing a moment, Thane stood up, wandering over to the weapon display nearby. He stared at the guns past the glass, finding his reflection within. And when he finally spoke, I found myself sympathetic toward him:

"I had a family, once. I still have a son. His name is Kolyat. I haven't seen him in a very long time."

I went over to him, asking, "Did something happen to your family?"

Thane regarded me in-earnest.

"I abandoned them." Startling me, he made sure to clarify: "Oh, not all at once. Nothing dramatic. No sneaking out in the middle of the night. No final argument or slammed door. I just…did my job. I hunted and killed across the galaxy. _'Away on business,'_ my wife would tell people. I was always away on business."

Considering what I had gone through with Oriana, I could understand his point of view…

"How long has it been since you last spoke with your family?"

"Ten years. Kolyat showed me some of his schoolwork, and asked if we could dance crazy. We did that when he was younger."

Taken aback, I asked, "What sort of dance is that?"

"It's—" Thane entered a focused state—speaking quicker, recalling with startling clarity: _"I check my extranet contacts. I expect an update on my next target. The console plays music. Old. Unfashionable. Kolyat jumps into the room. 'Hi, father!' Runs around in circles. I scoop him up. Toss him into the air. He shrieks, laughs. 'Spin me!' The console beeps. I put him down. Click the message. 'Father,' he pleads. Tugs my sleeve. 'I need to read this,' I said. I don't look at him."_

Quieting in shame, Thane lowered his head.

These memories continued to haunt him, even now.

"This must be weighing on you," I told him.

"When my wife departed from her body, I—attended to that issue. I left Kolyat in the care of his aunts and uncles on Kahje. I have not seen or talked to him since."

"That's not the choice I expected. Why didn't you raise him yourself?"

"My body is blessed with the skills to take life. The hanar honed them in me. I have few others. I didn't want that life for Kolyat. I hoped he would find his own way. If he hated me, so be it. He would not have shared the path of sin. But recently, I used my contacts to trace Kolyat. He has become—disconnected. He does what his body wills."

"You'll have to explain that one to me," I requested.

Thane did so: "Disconnected. The body is not our true self. The soul is. Body and soul work as one in a Whole Person. When the soul is weakened by despair or fear—when the body is ill or injured, the individual is disconnected. No longer Whole."

"Then what's wrong with your son? Is he hurt?"

"Something happened that should not have. He knows where I've been, what I've done. I don't know his reasons, but he has taken a job as a hitman. I would like your help to stop him. He is—this is not a path he should walk. I must atone for my sins with him. I must find my absolution before proceeding with the mission."

"I understand, Thane. I'm only wondering if this is Kolyat's way of trying to get closer to you."

"That thought haunts me more than any other."

"I would be honored to help you. But don't you think you should ask Shepard about this, too?"

Ashamed once more, Thane looked away from me.

"Commander Shepard has yet to speak with me one-on-one. I recalled your advice, sought to give her time. Yet seeing her spend such time with our other teammates—instead of me—has made her motivations quite clear. She dislikes me. She distrusts me. I cannot know why. Not for certain. But I believe she knows of my quest for redemption. She has looked into my judgment and found it lacking."

Hearing that made me hurt for him. "Thane, I know what this looks like. I still advise you to bring this up to Shepard directly—even if it's not in private. You'll have to get her permission to go and find Kolyat, wherever he is. I'm certain Shepard will at least heed your request. Then I can help you on my own."

"I appreciate that, Miranda. I will follow your advice. Thank you."

"Will we just go looking for Kolyat, to try and talk some sense into him?"

"Yes, that would be ideal," answered Thane. "The last time I saw my son—" Again he returned to that trance: _"They've wrapped her body in sea-vines. Weighted it with stones. He tries to pull from me. Calls for her. The hanar lift her off the platform. They sing like bells. 'The Fire has gone, to be kindled anew.' He begs them not to take her away. They let her body slide into the water. He hits me. 'Don't let them! Why weren't you—?' It rains. It always rains on Kahje. Warm water pours down his face…"_

How intense. "I didn't mean to make you relive that."

"Perfect memory. It is sometimes a burden. Though I can also find myself recalling wrong memories. Imperfect perceptions. My understanding of Commander Shepard, my readings of her are one such instance. She is impossible to know, impossible to predict. I question your stability with her. Shepard believes she knows everything. Do you truly feel at ease with one so self-righteous and judgmental?"

That pointed _passion_ in his voice threw me for a loop.

Alarmed, Thane realized what he had just said out loud.

He turned his back to me, retreating to his seat across the way.

"Forgive me, Miranda. I misspoke. Please disregard what I said. I must return to my meditations."

As emotional as he was right now, _surely_ he didn't mean a word of what he'd just said about Shepard…

So I gave him the benefit of the doubt: "I understand, Thane. I'll be on my way, then. I would still like us to speak some other time. Whenever you're free. Is it all right if we continue our conversation later on?"

"Yes, that would be fine," he accepted, rather distant. "If you could also avoid mentioning this to her…"

I caught that fear in his tone, ever-so-slight.

Extraordinary.

"You needn't worry about that. I won't mention this to her. Try not to think anything of it."

Lowering his head in thought, in prayer, Thane accepted my promise and my counsel.

I took that as my cue to leave.

And I hoped he would find his balance again, somehow. I didn't particularly enjoy seeing him so upset.

More than anything, I wished Shepard would just speak to Thane already. She had to know by now that he was unfocused. Even if she didn't join us in attending to his personal mission, I only wanted her to interact with him. She had spoken with everyone else over these past couple of weeks—except for Liara, now that I thought about it. That made more sense, as the two of them still needed time to work things out. But Thane hadn't done anything to her. I couldn't wrap my head around her feelings on the matter.

For now, I made my way down to the engineering deck. Liara had mentioned going to speak with Javik—after spending time with the others in the mess hall. And I hoped their conversation would go well enough. But, knowing how Javik was, I worried about the exact opposite happening instead.

Arriving to Javik's quarters in the port cargo room, I found our Prothean expert with the Prothean.

Liara sounded rather apprehensive, "If you don't mind, I have a few more questions I'd like to ask…"

Javik gave her a hardened stare.

"I've written over a dozen studies on your species. I've published in several journals—"

"Amusing," remarked Javik. "Asari have finally mastered writing."

Liara cut him an offended look. _"I'm sorry?"_

"Never mind. What do you wish to know?"

"Well, I wouldn't mind starting small," prefaced Liara, despite her budding excitement. Her questions steadily grew more animated: "In short, what was Prothean civilization like? I've always wondered. What sort of government did you have? And can you tell me about your religious beliefs? Or perhaps—"

"We are dead now. Just as you once were. What does it matter?"

"I'm…sorry. Studying your history has been a lifelong passion of mine."

Javik took pity on her, explaining, "When I was born, our empire was already at war with the Reapers. The first thing I remember was seeing my planet on fire. Before that, we were the dominant race of our cycle. We ruled the galaxy."

"My studies indicated you were the only race engaged in space travel at the time. I always found that curious."

"We were one empire composed of many subjects. All eventually called themselves 'Prothean.' Any could oppose us if they wished. And if they had won, they would have ruled. None succeeded."

Liara sounded chilled by the information—"To learn that the Protheans were so… _severe."_

"It was by necessity," insisted Javik. "Very early we encountered the dangers posed by machine intelligence. They rebelled against us. In my cycle, your 'geth' aboard this ship would have been decimated. We could not allow the machines to surpass us. It was decided the only way to win was to unite all organic life within our empire."

"Did it work?"

"For a time. The Metacon War. We were turning the tide. Until the Reapers arrived. Then we understood the machines had surpassed us long ago in ways we could never imagine."

Liara glanced at me, inviting me to her side. "What can you tell us about your own war with the Reapers?"

"Many of the details were lost. The conflict lasted for centuries. Those that faced the Reapers in the beginning were long dead when I was born. There were memory shards, however, passed down from soldier to soldier. They gave us fragments of what happened. We saw how our ancestors resisted Reaper indoctrination; disabling the Reapers from within, from their backdoors. We learned that only we as Protheans could achieve this—as organics—due to the connection we each shared, through our collective unconscious. But this method was eventually lost to time. We could not use it to win the war."

"Well, if you didn't have the method Shepard used against Sovereign, how did your people wage war?"

"Attrition. We fought them system by system, planet by planet, city by city. Entire worlds were sacrificed just to slow the Reapers down. Time they spent harvesting a population was time we could regroup."

Liara pointed out, "That must have cost you in the long-run."

"Yes," acknowledged Javik. "Our own people would be indoctrinated…converted into the Collectors you now know today. They turned against us. But there was no choice. Mercy is not a weapon—it is a weakness."

"If that is true, why do you think your own cycle lost the war?"

"What had been our strength—our empire—became a liability. All races conformed to one doctrine, one strategy. The Reapers exploited this. Once they found our weaknesses, we could not adapt. The subservient races became divided and confused. Then, it was only a matter of time. Your cycle will rely on the willpower of one woman, a single human. I expect the Reapers will find her weakness and exploit it—if they have not done so already. Or perhaps she will evade their lofty attempts. It is difficult to say."

Javik made such a point of not making eye contact with me.

Liara noticed as well, asking, "Then what do you believe Shepard's weakness is? Could you speculate?"

"The commander is only as strong as the one who _believes_ in her."

At last I spoke up for myself—"Just what exactly are you trying to say?"

Javik pierced my stare with the hollowing weight of his disinterest.

"You are weak, human," he sneered. "Your mind is poisoned by petty games and childish concerns. You are haunted by the flames of the soldier you once betrayed. Your jealousy toward the more powerful asari—the queen of the land you call Omega—reveals your flawed existence, how _primitive_ you are in comparison to her. No matter your efforts, you will never live up to the commander's expectations. You will never be _real_ enough in her eyes. And you will never earn her truest, eternal devotion—all because you continuously peddle in secrets and lies. You know this to be true, thus you fear your inevitable failures in the coming war. I believe the commander senses your fears. She grows tired of coddling you."

…

"Javik," scolded Liara. "Please stop this. You aren't helping Miranda at all."

Javik asserted, "She asked a question. I provided my answer. This is how conversation works, asari."

"Do you _really_ need to be so…insensitive?"

"No. But it is satisfying to tell the truth to a liar's cowardly face. So we will see what becomes of her."

Angry on my behalf, Liara held my arm, escorting me out of the room.

She had us take the elevator back to the crew deck. Back to my office we went. Alone, just the two of us…even as my thoughts, my reflection of myself wilted and wilted in the wake of Javik's words.

* * *

Sitting at my desk with Liara standing next to me, this weight refused to leave.

As if it could have brought me down at any moment.

As if it could have pulled me into a dark, terrible void—one I had been avoiding for all my life.

Everything Javik had said was true. I knew it was. I fucking knew it.

Hearing his words echo in my head, his contempt playing again and again on repeat… This was too much like looking at myself in the mirror—for the actual first time—and finding myself useless and decrepit. I found this truth after spending decades seeing what I wanted to see of myself. Building this specific, perfect image that no one could critique, that no one could tear down to get at me—to tear at me.

I feared what would happen now that Javik had torn my persona clear off my face, bloody and broken.

"Miranda," tried Liara. "He shouldn't have said what he did. It was completely uncalled for."

Not wanting to discuss this, I shook my head.

Reticent now, Liara understood. "Then what would you rather do instead?"

I fell back to my worst instincts:

Needing this hit, returning to my one true addiction to sate my loss of control—I pulled up the _Normandy's_ surveillance feeds. The moment I found Shepard again, draped in that dapper confidence of her Alliance uniform, I found my calm. I could finally breathe. I could forget about those _words_ echoing in my head. I could move past that and return to what had worked for me…or at least I thought I could.

Through the feed, Liara and I watched as Shepard spoke on with Kasumi in the mess hall.

The two of them sat at a table together, easygoing and agreeable with one another.

Yet as soon as we tuned in, Shepard and Kasumi both stopped speaking.

They stared at one another in an annoyed silence. Knowing what the issue was—as if they sensed my eyes on them, Liara's eyes on them—Shepard and Kasumi scowled in reaction. For a moment, they drifted their stares elsewhere. Wondering how to proceed. Wondering if they should _say_ anything.

How did Shepard always know when I had my eye on her like this?

Kasumi sighed in disappointment. _"Right, so…should we pick this up later?"_

 _"That's fine,"_ allowed Shepard. _"We'll get to Bekenstein on the first Monday of May, like you asked. Let's just go over the whole thing once it's time. What did you say the name of the show was?"_

"The Thousand Faces of Commander Shepard. _Good old Donovan Hock isn't shy about his obsession with you. He's trying to upstage the Met Gala on Earth. You know, in New York City. It's the only reason he's holding the show on that day. Anyway, I'll drop you off at the palace, go find Keiji's greybox. You'll do your thing and find Hock for me. We'll discuss the details once we get to the colony. Should be fun!"_

_"If you say so. I'd better head out and talk to Jack. I'll see you around, Kasumi."_

_"You bet. Thanks for talking with me. I appreciate it. Take care, Shep."_

Shepard left Kasumi's side; I shut off the surveillance feed.

I asked Liara, "Is she going to see Jack? Or is she on her way here instead?"

"…I actually don't know."

 _"What?_ What do you mean you don't know?! I thought you always knew!"

Liara pained herself to explain: "Ever since Shepard found me the other night, I haven't been able to sense much about her. There were times in the past when she would block my access. Keeping me out on purpose, just to have her own personal space. I assumed she had done this again when we finally spoke. And I admittedly grew suspicious of her, accusing Shepard of purposely hiding information from me. But it looks like this isn't her doing. There is a powerful block around her—one I can't seem to breach on my own. Something like this, how unyielding it is…I know it isn't from her. It's impossible."

"I don't enjoy the sound of that," I worried. "How are we supposed to keep track of—?"

The door to my office suddenly opened.

And in walked Shepard, looking absolutely furious with the both of us.

I clamored to my feet on a reflex. Liara even took a few steps back in her shock.

We both expected Shepard to shout at us, to make her grievances known. To openly scold us for our spying, scalding our need to know every detail about her, to constantly have eyes on her at every waking moment of the day. I fully anticipated Shepard would lay into us for treating her like a child, never letting her breathe without knowing where she was. She had every right to…even though I disagreed.

Instead, she held herself back.

Instead, Shepard merely told us, "Jack has some business to take care of on Pragia. She wants you with us. Both of you. Don't ask questions. Just come with me down to the engineering subdeck. _Now."_

Knowing we had misbehaved, Liara and I kept our heads down, doing as we were told.

Knowing we had displeased her, we said not a word as Shepard guided us down to our destination.

Down in the reddened-darkness of the subdeck, Jack waited for us in silence. She sat on her bed, watching as we descended the stairs. Somehow, the shadows hit her face much harder, sharper in her stark mood, as stark as her surroundings. Jack could have cut Liara with her sharp gaze alone. And Liara felt that scrutiny, curling into herself as a result. Clearly, Liara had taken up much of Tali's time and attention since her return, and Jack did not appreciate it. But she would never, ever say such a thing.

Shepard asked her, "So, you sure you want to do this?"

 _"Completely,"_ asserted Jack. "I need to get this shit over with. Get it out of my system. It's been with me for way too long. The way I see it, I do this, and I'm free again. At least until the next thing comes up."

"Okay. I already set a course for Pragia. We'll be there in the next hour. For now, you should explain what's going on to Liara and Miranda. They're a bit out-of-the-loop."

Jack acknowledged, "Well, Miranda knows enough. Guess old smarty-pants Blue needs a crash course." Liara looked rather offended at the name, but chose not to protest. "Right, so—basically, Cerberus raised me. First thing I remember is my cell door in a Cerberus base. They did experiments. Drugged me. Tortured me. Whatever chance I had to be normal, they stole it by trying to turn me into some super-biotic. The doctors…the other kids. Every one of them hated me. They let me suffer."

Liara knew some of this, yet she still sounded horrified—"There were other children in this base?"

"I didn't know much about them," said Jack. "I was kept separate. They hated me, just like everyone else there. When I broke out, I had to fight through them all. I showed them, but there's a loose end I need to deal with."

"What did they hope to gain by torturing you at such a young age?"

"It was something about pain breaking down mental barriers, and how it might clear the way for more biotic power. I'm sure there was a payoff due at some point, but I wasn't going to see it. I was wired up in a cell."

"They tortured you just to see if they could make a stronger biotic? That's it?"

Jack shrugged. "Wasn't in a position to ask, Blue. All I know is, a little girl crying in a cell, begging for the pain to stop."

Taking more sympathy, Liara asked, "How did you manage to escape?"

"There was some kind of emergency and I made a break for it. The other kids came out of their cells and attacked me. So did the guards. Pretty sure they did it on purpose, since Miranda was coming by to shut the place down soon enough. Doesn't matter now. I just killed everything in my way and ran. Guess my biotics had developed faster than they thought. After, I got a shuttle off the ground. Drifted until a freighter picked me up. The crew used me, then sold me. That's my uplifting escape story."

"And this _was_ Cerberus? It really was their facility?"

"It was," I confirmed. "The scientists and guards had gone rogue. Their experiments had crossed the line. They knew it was wrong. The Illusive Man ordered me to shut everything down, as Jack said."

Jack didn't believe me. "Doesn't matter if they went rogue or not. They screwed up. Turns out, mess with someone's head enough, and you can turn a scared kid into an all-powerful bitch. Fucking idiots."

I had to know, "Then what are you aiming to do?"

"I found the coordinates in those files you gave me. I want to go to the Teltin facility on Pragia, where they tortured and drugged me. I want to go to the center of the place, my cell. I want to deploy a big fucking bomb. And I want to watch from orbit when it goes. Besides, the place's been abandoned for years. No one's going to care if I blow up a garbage dump."

Looking to Liara, I still felt confused. "Fine, you're taking us with you. I understand. What I don't understand is why you wouldn't take someone like Kasumi instead. Isn't she your partner in crime?"

"I talked to Kasumi about this already. It's obvious why I'm bringing you. Plus, I wanna see what _Little Liara's_ all about. She's a biotic, isn't she? We can have a fun little competition. Loser buys drinks the next time we're on shore leave. Or maybe the winner gets the girl in the end. Who fucking knows."

No wonder…

"Like I said," continued Shepard, "We'll be at our destination in the next hour. Miranda, make sure Liara will be ready. Get to the shuttle with Jack once it's time. I'll meet you all there."

"Understood, Commander," I accepted.

Shepard took her leave.

Never before had she been so unreadable to me. Almost like a blank slate. If I couldn't see her face, if I couldn't see her expression, then I knew nothing of her. And even that was rather suspect these days.

She was as a stranger to me, and I had nowhere else to look except inward:

 _Inward_ to this absolute wasteland of my miserable existence.

* * *

Starlit dark, the cold chill of the _Normandy's_ shuttle—this silence nearly got to me. Liara sat next to me; Jack and Shepard sat across from us. No one said a word. No one made eye contact. No one even attempted to break this ice permeating the place. This icy awkwardness forced my skin to pebble beneath my uniform, making me long for the comforts of my bed, of Shepard's bed…and I realized once again that I hadn't even been in her cabin since before Palaven. That faraway edge lit up Shepard's gorgeous stare, her scowl reaching past the window nearest to her. Her mind appeared elsewhere, even as she remained focused on the mission. Multitasking, she managed to duplicate her talents, paying attention to this frozen silence around us, all while her eyes had sealed away her truest thoughts.

Still she remained purely unreadable.

I couldn't possibly imagine what possessed her in this moment.

All I knew…was how lost I felt without her direct guidance. Without her cues to follow. Without her expectations to fulfill. Without her explicit directions on how to behave, how to think, _how to be._

Nor could I possibly tell Shepard the truth of the matter.

No doubt she would look down on me, discovering that I was not the person I'd made her believe in.

Liara seemed to sense my thoughts, gazing at me with her compassion.

If she only knew what was actually on my mind, perhaps she would refund her sympathies for me.

Jack groaned out of a sudden, "I forgot how much I hate this place." We had something of a view of the facility from here—thin streaks of rain scratched across the window as we neared Pragia's surface. "See the landing pad? Has to be on the roof, or the vegetation would overgrow it in a few hours."

EDI's voice sounded over the comms: _"Shepard, I am picking up thermal signatures everywhere, except at your landing zone."_

Shepard figured, "Something's distorting the sensors."

I reminded them, "Well, this was a secret Cerberus facility."

"Yeah," said Jack. "They build their equipment to last. Assholes…"

She almost wanted to question her decision to return here. Yet she held it back. Jack regarded Liara with such a vague, anonymous intensity instead, causing Liara to shift about uncomfortably in her seat. Due to that vagueness, I couldn't tell if Jack was actually angry with her, or if this was about something else.

Either way, this seemed like a lot of emotion toward Liara, whom Tali only viewed as her best friend.

Tali and Liara had their companionship, but it was nothing that should've sparked this sort of _jealousy._

Jack also directed some of her ire at me. And not in an anonymous way. More directly, pointed now. I could only imagine her assumptions. Perhaps she had observed something of me. How different I may have seemed ever since Liara's return. Maybe she didn't trust these changes about me. Maybe Jack didn't know whether or not I was still the same person. The real truth was honestly too much to explain.

For the mission's sake, I chose to say nothing. Antagonizing her wouldn't have done us any good.

Arriving to the landing pad, our shuttle touched down at the facility. Abandoned, overgrown with such aggressive vegetation, this place hardly looked as I remembered it. The stubborn rainfall, the sporadic sparks of lightning, the rumbling thunder and the stark, stark rainclouds up above—such profuse memories of suffering, abuse, and death had infected the air, haunting the place. Jack hesitated before the sight, hanging back within the shuttle. Liara and I stayed closest to the opening, staring out at the Teltin facility's roof, the history everywhere—as painful and unfortunate as the whole thing was.

Undeterred, Shepard stepped out first. Drawing her sidearm, the rain pattered down over her shields in such an unusual way. Making contact once, enough to activate her defenses, blue shields glinting over the dark of her stealth suit—and then the rain seemed to avoid her, somehow, not quite reaching her.

"Jack, take point," she ordered. "We'll follow you. Do you remember your way around?"

"Yeah, I remember," said Jack, retrieving her shotgun. "Pretty hard to forget… Let's just get in there and plant the bomb in my cell. I wanna watch this place burn."

Shepard stayed just behind her.

Our own pistols drawn, Liara and I stayed on their six, apparently by default.

We followed Jack down the roof's stairs, and into the facility. The flickering light over the open doorway signaled our only entry point. Entering through, these infected memories wallowed thicker through the dark; and the echoing sounds of the rain outside worsened this feeling, as if we'd escaped into the unavoidable. Several containers lined the walls, and numerous windows fogged with dirt separated each space. Rusted tile flooring, missing pieces, gaping holes. Shrubbery growing through the ground, stubborn as ever. Only the gray of the storm lit in, lighting our way, lighting the decay all around us.

Jack narrated for us, "I never saw this room. I think they brought new kids in these containers. They were messed up and starving, but alive. Usually."

She led us through the next door, down a metallic ramp. Leaking rain from the roof had pooled to the filth of the ground below. The window just nearby opened up to a wider area, one I definitely remembered passing through all those years ago.

We found more containers just beside a security console.

The console went off with a recorded log—an old exchange between a security officer and a scientist. Those flickering holograms of their bodies glowed on-and-off, as their voices played through the room:

_"The Illusive Man requested operation logs again. He's getting suspicious."_

_"When we get results, he won't care what we did. But if he knew…"_

_"He won't find out. It's Lawson I'm worried about. Miranda Lawson. She's been snooping around too much lately. She requested a tour of the facility. I'm not confident she'll be on our side."_

_"I have a plan for that. It's risky, but it'll pay off. No one else can know about this. No one."_

As the recording began to loop, Shepard shut off the console.

I wanted to reiterate my stance—that the facility had gone rogue. I had done my job as necessary.

However, as I read the room, I knew to keep my mouth shut.

The next area, the next ramp leading downward, the next sets of containers and plants growing out from the holes in the ground—our group continued onward, following Jack, her reminiscence:

"I remember escaping to this room. Fighting here. I saw sunlight through the cracks in the ceiling. Only a half-dead guard between me and freedom. He was begging for his life."

We passed by these near-trees sprouting from the damp ground. Vines and leaves webbed along the overhead windows, over our only source of light within. The flickering, fizzling electrical lights did us no good whatsoever. As we walked around these crates and containers, Shepard was careful not to step in any puddles collecting from the rainfall. The occasional water dripping from above still failed to reach her, slipping off of her shields in that same unusual way.

Just ahead, we heard gnarled sounds of growling.

A large pack of wild varren rushed toward us.

"Damnit!" cursed Jack, about to shoot.

"Liara," said Shepard.

"On your order, Shepard," she complied.

Liara sent a singularity field at the group instead.

Detonating her primer, I threw a warp strike at the varren. Exploding far and wide, the impact ripped the enemies to shreds. Those remains fell to the ground, dissolving into biotic-blue distortions.

Jack shrugged. "Guess that works, too."

She continued ahead to a familiar-looking location, to an old blood stain on the ground.

Shepard noticed, "This looks like an arena."

"That's right. They used to stage fights here. Pit me against the other kids. I loved it. Only time I was ever let out of my cell."

Unnerved, Liara asked, "What were they studying?"

"Hell if I know," answered Jack. "Maybe that's how they got their kicks. I never understood anything that happened here."

"How often did they do this?"

"I was in a cell my whole life, Blue. Sometimes they took me out and made me fight. Filled me with drugs. Other stuff. Time gets funny in a cell."

"Did other children die in these fights?"

"I was a kid, filled with drugs. I got shocked when I hesitated. Narcotics flooded my veins when I attacked."

I recited my own knowledge: "You still get warm feelings during a fight."

Jack glanced at me, nodding in approval.

"Let's keep moving," stated Shepard.

Jack continued leading the way. "Hell, yes."

Through another door, we entered a cluttered hallway. Nearly claustrophobic from these plants reaching up and around, from the haphazard ruins of these unused crates and containers—we had to watch our step, with several fallen pieces of the roof taking up space everywhere. The worn, washed-out Cerberus logos over the walls certainly did us no favors, as I knew Shepard didn't enjoy the reminders.

Partway through this filthy area, Shepard found another security console.

She opened the log, revealing the holo-form of another security officer panicking in a hurry:

_"Security Officer Zemkl, Teltin facility. The subjects are out of their cells! They're tearing the place up! Subject Zero is going to get loose. I need permission to terminate—I repeat, permission to terminate!"_

Security Control responded to the request: _"All subjects besides Zero are expendable. Keep Jack alive!"_

_"Understood. I'll begin the—"_

Jack shut the console off.

"Guess he didn't know the fix was in. Someone started that riot on purpose, to keep Miranda from finding out what they were up to. Until I found that out, I always thought I was the one who started it. My guards just disappeared. They counted on me getting loose. Then the other kids attacked me. The guards attacked me. The automated systems attacked me. No one had their stories straight."

Shepard told her, "You used the chaos to your advantage and escaped. That was your best hope."

"Yeah, you're right…"

Down a narrow stairway, the fresh smell of blood accosted us. A few dead varren lay in a corner at the foot of the stairs, just recently killed. We passed by the troubling sight, through another series of hallways, thick rubble over the ground troubling our footsteps. This path took us to what appeared to be a lab, having decayed severely from my memory of the place. Within the open space lined with crates, I heard what sounded like other people—krogan stomping about, vorcha scattering around. Blood Pack?

Shepard had already pulled up her radar, those red dots outlining enemy signatures nearby.

She pulled her Widow from over her back, unfolding that massive power of her sniper rifle.

With those mercs wandering about in distraction, Shepard had the freedom to handle this her way:

Aiming at one of the vorcha, his flamethrower, the gas tank over his back—

Shepard fired her sniper rifle with perfect precision.

The tank exploded, detonating, bursting into flames. The other vorcha, the other gas tanks over their backs caught fire one after another, unavoidable. Screams of death from the vorcha, from everyone surrounding him as the fires spread around and around. The krogan nearby caught aflame, their armor burning to a crisp. Ending as cinders, the whole group fell one by one, dissolving as ashes on the ground.

Somehow, Shepard walked through the flames unscathed.

She fully stood in those fires as she bypassed the security on the next door.

Jack and Liara exchanged bewildered looks, not understanding how this was possible.

By the time the flames fell away, Shepard had finished with the door.

"Come on, let's go," she ordered, pushing onward.

Given how weak her shields were compared to ours, this really _shouldn't_ have been possible.

We followed after Shepard regardless, knowing we wouldn't receive an explanation.

Farther through the dankness of this facility, the darkness grew and grew. Echoes from the rainfall outside sounded louder, closer, the storm growing worse. That persistent grayscale covered our surroundings, even seeming to dull the natural sunlight of Shepard's features. I felt myself staring at her more often, more than anything, as Jack fell behind in favor of allowing our leader to lead. I wanted to stop everything. I wanted to ask Shepard if we were all right. I had no reason to believe that we weren't, but I also didn't know for certain that we were. Before, I used to be able to know—with such ease. I always knew. Now I knew nothing. I could read nothing, suddenly illiterate of my own girlfriend's needs.

And I couldn't just ask Liara for guidance, as she also hadn't the faintest idea about this. _About anything._

I floundered in my loss of control.

Meanwhile, Shepard quick-scoped the next Blood Pack mercs in our way, seemingly unaffected.

Liara was understandably more upset by the children's quarters we passed by—inhumane and all.

Out in this open courtyard, we walked along a set of raised walkways. Something of Jack's energy shifted as we approached a proper cell—the largest within the facility so far.

"This… It's a two-way mirror? My cell is on the other side—I could see all the other kids out here. I screamed at them for hours, and they always ignored me."

We took what looked like the long way around to reach her old cell.

Back inside, we arrived to another series of open rooms. Lab chairs with rusted neck, wrist, and ankle restraints. Lingering despair fogging everywhere.

"I must've come through here when I broke out, but I don't remember it. This is a bad place."

Shepard located another console, accessing the logs there:

_"Entry 1054, Teltin facility. The latest iteration of PergNim went poorly. Subjects One, Four, and Six died. No biotic change among the survivors. We lowered core temperatures of surviving subjects, but no biotically beneficial reactions occurred. As a side-effect, all subjects died. So we'll not try that on Zero. I hope our supply of biotic-potential subjects holds up. We are going through them fast."_

Jack remembered that I'd mentioned this to her, as we went over the latest Cerberus files.

Still frustrated, she vented, "Fucking bullshit that they did this. Experimenting on the other children for my safety. No wonder they hated my guts!"

Shepard counseled, "You can't help what they did to others."

"You don't get it, Shepard. Until Miranda told me the truth, I had my own views. I thought I survived this place because I was tougher than the rest. That's who I am—or it's who I was, anyway. I don't know…"

"You move on. Harder and tougher."

Jack accepted her wisdom.

Shepard found yet another console nearby.

_"It's all fallen to pieces. The subjects are rampaging, and Zero is loose. We're shutting Teltin down. What a disaster. We'll infiltrate and piggyback onto the Alliance's Ascension program. Hopefully that will—who are…? Zero, wait!"_

I had already taken care of that problem.

Jack knew as much. Liara could assume the rest, if she didn't know already.

"We're getting close to my cell. The place I came from. Let's keep going."

"Hold on," said Shepard, checking her radar. "There are more mercs waiting for us past this door. Think they know we took care of their friends back there. Don't wait for them to react to us. Take them out."

This time, she gestured for me to head through first.

Weapons at the ready, everyone followed me into the next room.

Shepard kicked off the party appropriately, sniping at another flamethrower's gas tank.

Worsening the heat, Jack and Liara joined me in sending a flurry of biotic attacks at the Blood Pack mercs. Assaulting them with this ambush, they didn't stand a chance. There was some unarmed human among their ranks. He made a mad dash for Jack's proper cell, seeking safety. Jack shot him in the back. He fell to the ground, bleeding out there. We could only assume he was in-line with the Blood Pack, whatever they were doing here. But they were all gone now. No point wondering about the whole thing.

Jack walked past the man's corpse, leading us to her cell.

A short hallway, bloodstained walls, Cerberus logos—and then the moderate room looking out to the two-way mirror we had passed by earlier. The shine from that false light glossed over the tiles, giving the illusion of goodness peeking through this horrid space. Liara wandered over to that light, starting out at it.

Jack notably showed little reaction to being here again.

I figured she would have wanted to plant the bomb and get it over with. She had other plans in mind.

"This room was my whole childhood. Give me a minute to look around."

"Go ahead," allowed Shepard.

"Nothing's changed…but it's all different."

Jack went over to the partly-broken table in the corner, smoothing her hand along the surface.

"I used this table for everything. It was like my best friend. I'd crawl under it to cry. I was pathetic."

The standard-issue bed remained nearest the window, the blue sheets and blanket perfectly-made.

"Sometimes I dream that I'm back in this bed being tortured. I used to tie the sheets around my wrists and try to rip them off. I want to stop coming back here."

Jack and Shepard joined Liara at the two-way mirror.

"I thought that room out there was the rest of the world. I'd pound and yell. Never did any good."

We followed Jack to the old blood stain on the wall, just below one of the Cerberus logos.

"See the scarring on the wall here? That's where I killed my first man. One of the guards tried to stop me. Instead, I stopped him."

As she reminisced on the past, Jack took particular note of that logo on the surface.

She then looked to me, speaking her mind:

"So, Miranda… After seeing all this shit again, tell me the truth. The real truth. This is what Cerberus gets up to, isn't it? It's not just some rogue thing. The Illusive Man lied to you. Can you seriously admit that?"

"That's nonsense, Jack," I replied, immediately. "I've told you time and time again—the Illusive Man wouldn't allow this. It was my job to specifically shut down these types of operations. Cerberus isn't a terrorist organization. We put in the hard work to find the solutions to humanity's worst problems. We go where other groups refuse to venture. But this isn't us. These people went rogue. End of story."

"Are you fucking kidding me?!"

"No, I'm not. Do I look like I'm joking?"

Jack snarled at me, "Are you _that_ far up your boss' ass? Cerberus _is_ a bunch of terrorists! What they did to me was wrong! Did you forget what I almost did to you when we first met on _Purgatory?_ Or was that just some fever dream I had?! I was ready to kill you just because of that stupid logo on your chest!"

"We aren't terrorists. That's a ridiculous lie perpetuated by the media—"

"Will you cut the crap? Can you hear yourself right now? Because you know what you sound like?! Like you're indoctrinated! The Illusive Man indoctrinated you with all his fucking propaganda!"

"Only an idiot would believe actual propaganda. I shouldn't have to remind you I'm nothing of the sort."

"Oh, is that it?" asked Jack, incredulous. "Just 'cause you went to school, got all your fancy degrees, you think you're smarter than me? I'm not stupid by choice, _Miranda!_ I was stuck here my whole life until I was fourteen! No school, no opportunities, nothing! Just tortured over and over again! Then when I got out, I made it on my own! But I'm still smart enough to know when someone's trying to screw me over!"

I rolled my eyes. "Now you're putting words in my mouth. I never said you were stupid. Listen carefully when I speak. You could learn a thing or two—such as the obvious reality that this was a rogue facility—"

"Bullshit! You're brainwashed! Your boss brainwashed you into his Cerberus cheerleader! He's using you! You don't wanna wake up and see the truth—admit you were wrong all these years! Why's it so hard to see what's right in front of you? What Cerberus turned me into—that's who they are! That's who _you_ are! Just because you don't wanna see it, that doesn't mean it's some ridiculous lie…"

"It wasn't Cerberus. Not really. But _clearly_ you were a mistake."

Enraged, Jack glared absolute death into my eyes, her biotics activating.

Somewhere in her glare, I realized…I shouldn't have said that. Jack was my friend. Or at least, she was supposed to be. We were supposed to have this mandated friendship for the sake of the mission. I couldn't fail in my duties. As her superior officer. And so I stepped over to her, trying to reach out.

Some errant wreckage, Jack pulled toward her, winding up, aiming at me.

I couldn't even react in time—

_"Touch me and I will smear the walls with you, bitch!"_

Liara jumped in with her biotics, deflecting the wreckage from hitting me, possibly destroying me.

"Jack, stop this!" cried Liara. She looked to Shepard leaning against the wall with her arms folded, completely disaffected. "Shepard, _why_ are you just standing there? Why are you not reacting?"

Jack almost laughed, cynical. "Because she knows I'm right, that's why! You wanna talk who's smart and who's not? Nothing gets past her. _Nothing!_ Shepard knows the truth. She sees the same things I do. Maybe she's tired of putting up with her girlfriend's shit! Ever thought of that, Blue? Fuck, you and Miranda are pretty much exactly the same. Always thinking you know better… Pisses me off."

Disarmed by the accusations, Liara had no choice but to stand down.

I appreciated her sticking up for me, but still…

Never before had I seen this thousand-lightyear stare in Shepard's eyes. The grayscale from this facility had thoroughly dulled her colors, the shine of her skin even dimming in-tandem. I knew what she wanted me to do. I knew what she wanted me to say. But I would not, could not denounce the man and the organization that had saved my life decades ago, and continued protecting my sister to this day. Just as she would never turn on the Alliance, on Admiral Hackett and Councilor Anderson, never would I have reason to do the same with Cerberus, with the Illusive Man. And I knew if I told her this, she would feel it was a false equivalence. There was no winning with her, or with Jack…and so I chose to stay quiet.

"Fuck it," growled Jack. "I'm done arguing with this damn robot. I'm planting the goddamned bomb right here, right now. Let's blow this place to hell." Before retrieving the bomb, she pointed right at me. Not as a threat…but in a purely angered disillusionment. _"You…_ You're that girl I knew you were."

That she saw straight past my veneer—Jack disarmed me, too.

Arming the bomb, she appeared not to care anymore. Leaving her emotions behind with those words, with her observations, Jack wanted nothing more to do with me. She would blow up this facility and blow up our friendship, all at the same time.

Because once we returned to the shuttle, I saw those intentions in Jack's eyes. Sitting across from me again, sitting next to Shepard again, she had found her resolve. The chop and rumbling from the speed at which the shuttle tore through the skies and away from the Teltin facility—Jack somehow remained still. She bore her eyes through mine. She held this fear in my gaze, toying with the bomb's detonator in her hand. She alternated between looking at me, looking at Liara at my side, the both of us _the same._ Those stark shadows running across her hand, the tattoos over her five fingers spelling out _DEATH_ …

Shepard rammed her fist against the wall, needing our shuttle pilot to get a move-on already.

Jack detonated the bomb, that all-encompassing heat blasting outward, cutting at our tail.

The sudden movement again caught me unawares. I was about to fall out of my seat—until Shepard moved forward, holding me still from the blast. Having her this close to me again, basking in her touch, her instinctive protectiveness, despite everything…it meant so much. Shepard knew it, yet she chose not to share the same. She merely returned to her seat, avoiding my eyes for the remainder of the ride.

As the Teltin facility was no more, I had to face this new reality, interpersonally:

If Jack could have murdered me before Shepard's eyes and gotten away with it, she absolutely would.

* * *

Back on the _Normandy,_ I felt toxic. Radioactive. As if I could poison anyone around me for no reason.

Jack couldn't have gotten away from me any sooner. She immediately left for the elevator.

Liara had no idea what to do. She only understood that I needed some time to myself, to think things through. And so she was kind enough to retreat elsewhere, giving me this space for right now.

Stuck down in this cargo hold with me, Shepard stayed by my side.

For how long, I couldn't know.

I knew she wanted things to work out between us.

And I knew she still loved me.

But there was just this…problem. This tiny issue that had exploded today—seemingly all of a sudden.

Or maybe it had always been with us, and I'd been too blind to see it until now.

"Shepard, listen," I began, trying to make her _see me._ "I understand that this is a problem. This—all of this." I glanced around at the Cerberus equipment, the Cerberus cargo, the Cerberus _everything_ everywhere. "It shouldn't come as a surprise to me… After all, this was why I'd chosen not to contact you before. Why I never chased after you on my own. I knew you wouldn't approve of Cerberus, of the people I choose to associate myself with. But as far as I can tell, this wasn't an issue when we started dating. When you asked me to be with you. Why has it turned into a problem now? What changed?"

"Nothing's changed at all. You must not remember what I said."

"I apologize if my memory is a bit hazy at the moment… It's been a long day. Could you refresh my memory?"

Veins over her forehead practically bulging in irritation, Shepard forced herself to oblige:

"Check our chat room. Do a search for when I said the words: _No one except me."_

Sporting a headache of my own, throbbing, pulsing, I heeded her request.

And I found this reminder slapping me across the face.

From when we were on Illium together, just hours before we recruited Samara.

From that argument we'd had over chat, where Shepard had caught me in a lie and I still—

_[15:58:12] Shepard: The way the Illusive Man influenced you. No one should have enough power to do that. No one except me. Especially not him, or your father. Not anyone. I won't tolerate it._

_[15:58:45] Me: Understood. You're perfectly clear._

_[15:59:13] Shepard: Why are you going along with this? Why aren't you fighting against me?_

_[15:59:36] Me: Your sense of justice is sound. I'd never fight against that._

_[16:00:12] Shepard: That can't be the only reason._

_[16:00:27] Me: You own me. I belong to you. I am your property. I need to be worthy of you._

_[16:00:58] Shepard: Are you just saying that to placate me?_

_[16:01:10] Me: Absolutely not. I mean every word of it._

_[16:01:20] Shepard: I believe you._

Reading the reflection of those words in my eyes, Shepard stated, "I don't believe you anymore."

Quietly, privately, I knew…she had every right not to believe me.

Back then, I remembered—scrambling to please her. Hurrying to mirror her, to meet her expectations. Rushing to mold myself around what _she_ required, what _she_ wanted. All in such a sickening desperation.

I felt that desperation no more. Because everything I had said to Jack back on Pragia: I had spoken with my convictions. I believed in what I believed, unequivocally so. No one could tell me otherwise. Shepard knew that. One hundred percent. I saw it in the way she stared at me, finding a liar looking back at her.

And I knew how much she couldn't tolerate lying of any sort.

_She refused._

"I've caught you in something, Miranda. _Again._ Haven't I?"

Exposed now, I fought to remain steady. "So it would seem…"

"Since you won't change, we need a resolution. Tell me where we go from here."

_We are who we are. People don't change._

Shepard's cynicism soured me to the core, rotting my heart.

My cold, empty heart without her.

Very nearly the absolute last thing I wanted to speak aloud: "Shepard, if you need some space away from me, then I understand. It's clear this is why you've been elsewhere these past couple of weeks. You were avoiding me…and I had no idea. This issue will never go away for us—because I fundamentally disagree with everything Jack said earlier. I accept that you agree with her. I accept that I've lied to you, by accident or otherwise. I apparently can't change who I am…not even for you. I'm sorry. I truly am."

"That's it, then," she deadpanned. "You're just letting me go to do whatever. You're not even putting up a fight. You're not interested in _trying_ anymore. Is that what you're telling me?"

"Quite frankly, I don't know how to try. Not in this situation… I can't give you what you want right now."

"And just what the _fuck_ do you think I want from you?!"

I flinched at her understandable rage, barely-veiled. "You want me to center my life around you. You want me to break away from my decades-long allegiances—to put you first. You want me to mirror your every desire. I see now that I tried to do this. I tried and tried before. But all I've done is wrap myself in lies, as you've pointed out to me. If you think about it, this would've come about at some point in the future. Inevitably. It almost feels like we've accelerated toward that outcome. This was unavoidable."

Shepard glared at me with such a furious heat;

At the same time, all the color drained from her face, down to her neck.

Maybe she didn't actually want those things. Either way, surely she had seen this coming already.

"Shepard, obviously we'll have to repair things at some point. Enough for the mission. And for what we still have together. I'm only asking that we take a break. I promise I will think things over: your point of view, how you feel about Cerberus, about how I've been lying to you. I don't want to hurt you any more. I don't want to disappoint you further. _I need to figure this out._ I need to stop repeating my mistakes."

She could have hurled any number of curses at me, all in her frustration.

She could have scorned me, warned me I would only regret this…because I most certainly would.

But the fact remained—Shepard was in love with me. She could find her patience for us. _She would._

Yet I would never know what was on her mind. I couldn't sense her, couldn't read her anymore. That absence, that lack had fueled my decisions just now. Because normally I would just…do what she wanted, as I wanted, as we both wanted, in our obsessions with one another, in those passions we shared for each other. Shepard probably thought me passionless in this moment. Too logical. But I didn't know what else to do. I didn't know how to give her what she wanted. I didn't know how to mold myself into the woman she needed. I had at last faced myself and found a complete fraud living in my skin.

Instead of telling her that…I chose this path instead.

Instead of unravelling _all_ of my lies, exposing myself any further than I had already…I did _this_ to her.

So it was no wonder Shepard spoke nothing at all, leaving me standing here without a word.

Hiding my lies with more lies.

I would have to confess the truth to Shepard eventually. Unless she already knew…and she still loved me regardless. But she had to know by now how dangerous that was. _I could not stand_ to keep hurting her.

It felt appropriate to go and speak to the Illusive Man now, reaffirming my fraudulent nature. Thus I made my way to the comm room. Debriefing after Pragia seemed like the best option. Focusing on the mission, on our other priorities. This was really all I had left. I had brought this on myself. I understood.

When I reached the comm room, I called my boss.

He answered straightaway.

Just like always.

The Illusive Man brought me back to this space of his, of his office, my own home away from home.

I could have grown emotional—if I wasn't absolutely certain of my choice. I knew that this state with Shepard was only temporary. It was the most logical thing to do. The most sensible choice to make.

I could take this time and improve. Gather the courage to fully come clean to her. And then we would return to our proper relationship. Without the lies, the fraud, the deception. Completely committed.

Nonetheless, the Illusive Man stared at me with a rare sort of emotion in his face.

No cigarette in-hand, no glass of bourbon or other alcohol.

That eerie blue glow of his eyes had dimmed a bit. He seemed rather incredulous to see me like this.

_So normal._

"Sir, you're staring," I pointed out. "Is there something wrong?"

He didn't seem interested in debriefing after Pragia.

He knew what I had just done with Shepard; he likely understood my thought process already.

Instead he made such a strange inquiry—"Miranda. Do you have any positive memories of your father?"

"My father? Not really…" Then I remembered: "Well, there were _some_ things. He would take me to the theater from time to time. Performing arts shows. The Sydney Opera House in particular, near the gorgeous harbor there. We both appreciated art. But I can't say there was anything more than that. The vast majority of my memories with him are negative. Why do you ask? Seems rather bizarre."

"I never got the full story before. About why you decided to run away from home all those years ago."

I waved my hand at the thought. "It was nothing concrete. Only a feeling I had, starting from my childhood. I don't have any actual evidence to back up my claims. And I'd rather not talk about it at all."

The Illusive Man hummed in a grave sort of worry.

"That reminds me. I haven't heard from him. My father hasn't contacted me in a while. Perhaps he's decided to leave this whole thing be. I hope he does. I'd much rather move on. Leave him in the past."

"Yes, that would probably be best. If that's how you feel."

I couldn't help noticing—"You know, something seems off about you. Strange. Very strange. Are you all right, Sir?"

"It's not important," he claimed. "We recently lost an asset to the Council. He got sloppy, let his _honor_ get the best of him. This won't affect our operations. You needn't worry about it."

"Understood," I accepted, with such ease. Automatic. Unquestionable.

And that was my problem, wasn't it?

The one thing preventing Shepard from having her happily-ever-after with me.

I _wanted_ to change for her. If I could do it on the spot, then I would've done it already.

We just needed time.

I needed time to come to grips with myself. With what I believed. With this possible… _propaganda._

"What about the Collectors?" I asked. "Do you have anything for us?"

"Yes, actually," said the Illusive Man. "You'll have to prepare the team for the next mission. It's coming up quite soon. This will be a rare chance for us to examine Collector technology up-close. I expect you to find critical information on how the Collectors safely pass through the Omega 4 Relay to their homeworld. I have my theories, but we need confirmation. We'll only have one shot at this."

"Of course. We'll be ready once it's time. Is there anything else?"

"Not at the moment. For now, there are a few other issues I'm looking into. These are all urgent matters, so I'll need to get going. But I appreciate your call."

"That's fine. I'm glad we were able to touch base. Thank you for sparing a few minutes of your time."

"Miranda, there is one final thing," he warned. "Do take care to avoid self-sabotaging. Take it from me—you'll only live to regret it."

"Understood, Sir…"

In reality, the Illusive Man appeared to have more to say.

Much, much more to say. To explain. To detail.

Yet he chose his secrecy above all.

He ended the call, dissolving me back to the comm room.

Unraveling as I was already, I needed to do this right. I couldn't keep making any missteps. I couldn't keep fucking up, making these goddamned mistakes. Living my truth with Shepard would forever bring me this painful fear. This wracking fear, this existential fear. How many years had I spent building up this armor? How much effort had I put into locking away my insecurities and self-doubt? How much time had I spent freezing my flaws behind this ice of mine, hiding myself away, even from the woman I loved?

Without a doubt, Shepard didn't deserve these continued lies from me. No longer, no more.

Nearly four decades I had spent cultivating my perfect image—only for that visage to shatter in a single day.

I should've gone to her. I should have allowed myself to be fragile with her. I should have let her see me for me, for once in my life.

Instead, I returned to my room alone.

Instead, I dealt with this shattering in the only way I could:

Sitting with myself, past my veneer. _Looking at her_ for the first time. And I despised the woman I saw.

There was no way in hell I could ever allow Shepard to meet her.


	54. Collector Ship

_"The Voice In My Head" from Cyberpunk 2077_

**LIV.** Collector Ship

_(Shepard)_

Pre-emptively, over these past few weeks, I had already gone through the pain of distancing myself from Miranda, mentally and emotionally.

Ever since Insomnia, witnessing those truths, I hadn't been able to see her the same way.

Today, I noticed the shift. I noticed the changes. Alone in my room, I lay on my bed, staring up at the stars, the violet of the kinetic barrier passing by the window above my bed. As the _Normandy_ drifted along, going nowhere for the time being, I focused on the violet of those waves, of the barrier protecting my ship from harm. Having protected myself from more harm, I had changed my room. Again I had put away those model ships of the Migrant Fleet, that picture of Tali and me. I had removed Miranda's permissions to come up to my private cabin freely. And this violet up above, I now associated with someone else. That rich color of her skin, the markings over her face, the length and strength of her jaw, the power of her body and self-expression.

I'd made these changes for such obvious reasons. I knew Miranda was tripping. And I didn't have time for it. I'd been over it for a little while now. But getting to this point hadn't been easy for me. Not at all.

Ever since we left Palaven, throughout these past weeks, I'd had to force myself out of bed to interact with the team. To talk to them on their request. Because if they hadn't requested my presence, I would've stayed stuck to my mattress, curled up there in the depths of my despair. EDI's voice would call out to me, like a spot of light in the darkness, letting me know that so-and-so wanted to speak. And for a couple of days, I would just barely find the strength to do what I needed to do. No one noticed my struggles. No one spotted anything out of the ordinary with me. Not even my own girlfriend—as I had signed on for, in giving Aria my permission to keep these secrets for me. Somehow, Miranda not noticing had made everything worse, worsening the weight, weighing down on me more and more.

At the same time, I hadn't wanted her to notice.

I wanted to purge Miranda out of my fucking system.

Because as I stayed stuck in bed these past few weeks, I remained in terror of what she was. Just from how easily she could lie to me. Lie and lie and lie. Talking shit about Aria behind my back. Devolving into those petty ass games, turning into a child, gossiping with her new clique on the ship. That inflated ego of hers completely revolted me—from Miranda, Tali, and Liara. All three of them. The whole thing completely turned me off. And I despised myself for not seeing them like this sooner. I hated myself for falling for someone who could do this. So insecure, Miranda put other people down just to make herself feel better. That she did it to Aria made it even worse. I knew Miranda was too much of a coward to say any of that shit to her face. Not only that, but I felt my own protectiveness for Aria flaring up. Over the past two months since we first met, this moment had been building and building in the background:

And it felt like my heart had waited for permission to truly feel this way.

That permission kicked off as Aria and I spent these past weeks talking over our private frequency.

I had called her the day after leaving Palaven, as promised. Lying in bed, staring up out my window as I did now, I'd waited to hear her voice. And Aria had answered my call right away. She knew without a word that something was wrong. That immediate, serious concern from Aria had comforted me, more than I would've expected. Her concern was the only thing getting me out of bed throughout that time. She never allowed herself to curb her concerns, worrying about how she came off, worrying about _caring too much._ She never watered-down her worrying for me, instead expressing it in her own ways. Not with that typical panic. Not an out-of-control type of nagging, badgering, pestering, prodding.

From this long distance, Aria still conveyed her truest sentiments to me. We would stay on the line with each other, never hanging up. Endlessly staying with each other. She wouldn't leave me to suffer alone. Whenever she had business to take care of on Omega, Aria still wouldn't hang up. She would mute herself, keeping me with her like that. Likewise, whenever I went to go take care of something on the ship, I would mute myself. The calming, confident comfort we shared—even in a complete, muted silence—locked me to Aria in such profound ways, none of which I'd ever expected to feel. Not with her.

Growing dependence, burgeoning needs: even when we weren't muted, and all I could do was waste away in bed, Aria stayed present with me. Sometimes we would talk normally. But other times, I would be too emotionally-wasted to speak. Aria would still ask me, _"Have you eaten today?"_ in a serious voice, with underlying worry there. I would tell her yes or no—and if the answer was no, then Aria would remind me to go get something. As much as she wished she were here to cook for me, she took care of me like this. Everything we had talked about in Insomnia proved itself to be true. That was all her truth.

Aria had even made a private chat room for us. She'd named it _Afterlife,_ appropriately. Whenever she would have herself muted for a while, knowing I was out of it, she made sure to message me:

_[23:02:21] Aria: I'm still here, babe._

_[23:02:33] Me: Okay._

Each time she unmuted herself, and I heard that music from her club in the background, it got to me.

I associated those songs with our comfort. And then the following silence as Aria returned home.

Whenever she fell asleep—at such unusual times, almost like an insomniac—I stayed with her, too. Sometimes I busied myself by playing video games. But I'd had to ditch my usual N7 game, since it reminded me of every single woman from my past. In turn, it made me feel like a failure all over again, from not being able to keep anyone; from not being able to actually devote myself to a single one of them. So I stuck to my stealth games instead, realizing that I was essentially sneaking around with Aria now. And whenever I would fall asleep, she would still be there for me. Aria usually stayed up working on that email she promised to send. I did want her to send it. I did ask her to not hold back. Because she knew enough of why I had been in such a slump. I hadn't spelled it out. We didn't need to talk about it.

Though I knew Aria wanted to say _something._ Not to rub salt in my wounds. Not to take advantage of the so-called opportunity. So she waited for a while, choosing her words carefully. To make herself clear.

The other day, sometime before Pragia, I had felt better. I could get out of bed and talk to my teammates without forcing anything. Aria had asked if we could hang up for a bit, while she gave me my space. She hadn't said the obvious—that she was close to sending me those words, the precursor to her email—but I knew better. So I had gone off on my own to talk to Kasumi in the mess hall.

By the time Kasumi mentioned that Donovan Hock guy who had killed her partner, Keiji, the silent alarms had sounded. She and I had sensed that presence: Miranda and Liara spying on us through the _Normandy's_ surveillance cameras. That had thoroughly ruined our nice conversation, and my mood.

Kasumi and I had felt that way, even sensing the obvious caveat.

We both knew Aria watched us in that moment as well.

We weren't sure how, and yet we felt her there in the ether.

We didn't mind Aria's snooping at all. Her intentions comforted me more—compared to Miranda and Liara's looming, treating me like a kid. Their prying condescended Kasumi and me both. Their controlling natures reminded me all over again: they didn't trust me, they didn't respect me to be my own person.

When I stormed into Miranda's office, it had taken everything in me to not blow the fuck up.

Remembering Jack's personal mission, I had brought Liara and Miranda down to speak with her instead.

The whole time, my hold over my rage had felt tenuous at best. Shaky. Like that live grenade of my anger could have fallen right out of my hands, detonating the _Normandy_ at any second. I had forced myself to bite down on the grenade instead. At least until the time came to prepare for Jack's mission, before arriving to Pragia. I'd had that free time to myself. Back in my cabin, I'd found what I needed:

_[14:27:12] Aria: Shepard, let me be honest. I know we don't talk about her. I don't want this to turn into a license to discuss her all the time. She's not my favorite subject, and I have no plans to change that. I realize exactly why you've been so careful not to bring her up. I just want to say this one thing to you. I only want to get this single point across. Whatever you do with the information, that's your choice._

_[14:32:02] Aria: If I know you, your first impression of her was that she was fake. It's the same thought I had. You need a woman who will be real with you. With that said…is she really the one? You want to be with her—without Cerberus. Not to mention all the secrets, the lying, the insecurities. Maybe you're convinced everything would be perfect without those issues. But if you take those things away, is that still her? How can she still be the one in that case? It isn't her anymore. That's someone else entirely._

She was right.

Absolutely right.

One hundred percent.

If anyone had told me this before, I wouldn't have believed them.

If this had come up before my last visit to Insomnia, I would've denied the obvious.

So I had called Aria, then, explaining that I agreed with her. She'd sounded relieved. But we hadn't had a whole conversation about this. She knew I was still going through it. She knew I needed more time to come to grips with everything. I hadn't reasoned myself into this relationship with Miranda; I knew it would take more than mere reason to make me snap out of the rest.

Continuing on with our ritual, I had actually kept Aria on the line during Jack's personal mission. She stayed in the quiet of her home, listening. I listened to the calm of her breathing, staying calm, staying focused. Aria listened to my words, to my own breathing, to the shots of my sniper rifle, to the sounds of the rain pouring down over the abandoned facility. She could hear my teammates—what they said to me, what I said to them. She heard the entire drama between Jack and Miranda toward the end.

Aria had also heard when Miranda asked for a break. Not fully breaking up with me. But close enough.

I hadn't expected that to happen. This break. These changes.

When Aria in Insomnia had promised an _acceleration,_ she hadn't minced her words at all.

Yet this whole turn of events had still caught me off-guard.

I remembered the color draining from my face. That sinking feeling of getting caught unawares, when I had cultivated an entire reputation for anticipating anything out there. I was pissed at Miranda, too, just from the way she gave up. Miranda had decided to stop trying with me. She had chosen to avoid the truth; to avoid stripping herself bare before me, finally showing me her truth.

And now, back to the present moment, I could breathe without her.

I could stop worrying about Miranda, about what she was up to, about all her lies and secrets and whatever else. I stopped fucking caring. She knew how dangerous it was for me to be in this state. Miranda had assumed I wouldn't get here; that I'd just sit around, do nothing except twirl my thumbs, waiting for her to get her shit together.

_No._

Since when would I settle for that type of complacency?

Since when would I accept someone taking me for granted?

Why would I do those things when I knew she would never fucking change? She said it herself!

Of course I wanted to keep my word. Of course I wanted to honor her. Of course I wanted to love her.

But this two-way street had turned into a one-way lane a long time ago, and I was just now accepting it.

Escaping that insanity at last, I found Aria's promise to me.

Such perfect timing with her promised email:

_From: Aria – I adore you._

_Shepard,_

_You've been upset these past couple of weeks. I can't begin to tell you how it's affected me. But that's not important. This isn't about me. It's about you, how I feel about you. The way you make me feel—every single day. You asked me not to hold back in this message. So I won't. For the most part, anyway._

_I first learned about you during a predictable time. The same time most people have heard of you. Tevos, the asari councilor—she and I had a thing together back then. I only wanted to fuck around, keep things casual. She wanted more. I couldn't give Tevos what she wanted, so she broke things off with me. Needless to say I was pissed off at her. Utterly furious. I remember that day I was in her office, blowing up over the information that she was seeing someone else. I was selfish. The whole thing felt like Tevos had humiliated me. That anger felt permanent, eternal. Until the news came on the vid screen. They were talking about Torfan, praising the feats you had pulled off on your own. And then they showed your picture. The way you looked in your Alliance uniform, so striking in your strength—I had completely forgotten my anger with the asari councilor. She ceased to exist for all I knew. All I cared about was you._

_I've tried to hold back since then. Focusing on other things. Mostly my business on Omega. Our worlds were so different, yours and mine. It seemed like we would never cross paths, never have reason to meet one another. I didn't see the point in pining over you. So I abstained from you for as long as I could. But when we finally did meet, I knew I'd end up losing my mind over you. And now I have. I really have._

_I've gone through a couple of different stages with this. After our first meeting on Omega, I went with my usual approach. I tried to appeal to your vanity, your ego. You flat-out ignored my attempts. I couldn't understand why. After all, I saw that look in your eyes when we first met. Barely-concealed as it was, I knew you were attracted to me right away. I fucking knew you wanted me. Probably more than you realized. But my whole approach with you—it was shallow. That shallowness was how I'd always picked up other women before. I didn't know anything else. That shallowness had also been safe for me, even though it was incredibly unfulfilling. So for a while, I was about to double-down. I sent my agents to follow you around, shadowing you everywhere, starting from your visit to the Citadel after you recruited Garrus. This continued up until and including your time on Earth in your hometown. I needed to keep an eye on you, figure out the best angle. But, again, I was still operating from that vain, shallow place._

_When I read that report before Eden Prime, that's when I woke the hell up._

_When I saw how important your relationship was, the meaning there…it changed my perspective._

_When I realized you would never like me as I was—the whole thing enlightened me. For the first time in my life, I took an honest look at myself. I can admit the reasons to you: why I had such an inflated head, why I seemed to hide behind my power. It's just because of how pathetic and unstable I am. I hate the thought of being no one. Being irrelevant. Fading into obscurity. I need to matter, because I never felt like I mattered when I was younger._

_No one liked me. No one gave a damn about me. And no one ever protected me when I needed it most. I found some sort of escape through dancing, and through combat. But beyond my aspirations as a dancer, as a fighter, I had to get by on my own. So I clawed my way up the social ladder, searching for that something. That something I needed—to prove to myself that I was someone. When I managed to take over Omega, that was my ticket in. That was my defining moment._

_It's why I always say, "I am Omega." Because without my station, I am no one. For the longest, I enjoyed the attention, the power, the status that comes with my throne. I never cared about helping the people here. Everyone in my life had only hurt me, broken me, made me hate. I had lost faith, believing all people were useless, worthless, and irredeemable. I leaned into the whole ruthless dictator persona as my way of moving on from the past. So when you kept ignoring me, brushing aside my attempts to impress you…it triggered something in me. You made me realize I'm not as important as I thought I was. I suppose I also saw the transience of my position. As the plague proved to me, I could lose Omega at any time. And then I would end up with nothing. I would be right back where I started—down at rock bottom._

_But when the curtains close, and I'm completely alone without you—I'm there. I'm at that rock bottom, broken and bleeding on my own. Being without you, watching another woman hurt you…it's painful. You're the one who gave me hope again. You helped me believe in people. You made me see that not everyone's so bad. Even if it's just you and my daughter as my lone exceptions, I'm at peace with that._

_You can already guess how difficult this is. Actually letting you see me. Actually admitting these things. Like I said, I'm unstable. I accept that I'm a borderline maniac. I don't know if that will turn you off, but I have to be honest with you. I need attention. I need your attention. I can be demanding, impatient. I expect a certain competence from the people around me, which you clearly have in spades, so that will never be an issue with us. And I'm moody, selfish, vain, prideful…but I will always remember your needs._

_If you think about it, Shepard, you and I are at a similar place in our lives. We've both gone through an endless streak of our exes hurting us, lying to us, and breaking our hearts. Seems like it's just been one disappointment after another. Maybe you're wondering what the point is. Maybe you're blaming yourself, thinking you're the problem. But I've come to believe that everything happens for a reason._

_For all my bravado, I'm really not the best at being away from you. And I'm terrible at being sincere, genuine. I don't like showing weakness. The way I've lived in my life, I'm used to people always wanting something from me. Or wanting to take me down. Those survival instincts of mine colored our initial interactions before. I don't see the point in protecting myself from you anymore. And that's the point of it all. It's why I feel this strongly about you. Because you're not what I'm used to. You're not what I expect._

_It's liberating. I need this freedom so badly._

_You taste like freedom to me, and I want more of you._

_You're so handsome and beautiful at the same time. You keep up with me intellectually. You challenge me on an emotional level. You fill my head with the wildest fantasies I've ever had—to the point where I constantly need you inside of me. I want you to fill me up. I want you to fucking dominate me, Shepard._

_I'm used to being the dominant one in my life, in all things. The thought of you ripping my control away—it gets me so damned hot and restless. Tie me up, bend me over and take me. I know you have a sadistic streak, babe. I know you hold it back. Maybe you're afraid of it. But I need that from you._

_And not just your sadism. I need your heart, too. You're such a sensitive soul, deep down. Emotionally, sexually, I already know how much you could please me. I can imagine how much you would make me feel—if I could meld with you. I want you to spread my legs open. I want to grip my arms around your back while you thrust your power inside of me. Or I could grip the roots of your hair while you keep your mouth between my thighs, soaking wet for you. Do you know how to keep a woman going with the firmness of your tongue? I think you do. I know how passionate you are. I want you to give it all to me._

_This…was a lot more than I'd planned on sharing. I thought I would just say enough to "get this off my chest." But it's not that simple. Things have changed with us. It's because of what you're going through these days. I want to pull you out of it. I want to pull off the impossible and lift you away from this situation. I want you, babe. So fucking badly. At the same time, I'll respect whatever decision you make in the end. If this was a lot to take in, I'll understand if you need some time. I'm perfectly fine with us brushing this aside. Just contact me when it's time for the next mission. I'll be there as soon as possible._

_But I just wanted you to know the truth. There's nothing I wouldn't do for you, Shepard. Nothing whatsoever. If you need me to kill someone, I'll do it. If you need me to move mountains for you, move entire worlds for you, I will fucking do it. If you need me to stay in this place, not having you at all, then I'll do it. I figure you're fine with me just following your orders. I'm happy to do that. Whatever you need._

_I see the universe in your eyes. And I would be a fool to ever look away from you. No matter the cost._

_-Aria_

After reading her email several times, I found an enlightenment of my own.

I felt myself smiling over Aria's words. I truly did want to get to know her better—in that special way.

But there was just one thing. One last thing I needed to figure out. I had to be absolutely sure.

I went inside my bathroom, showering for the day. Thinking over Aria's confessions, her passions and attractions for me. Intermingling with her emotions, this long, dangerous thread continued to pull at me, tauter and tauter as time went on. Something of that thread threatened to cut at me. Something of that point continued to hang over my head, looming, and coming close to hurting me. Normally, I would've felt alone. I would have felt on my own, stuck in this see-through prison. But I allowed myself to lean on Aria, her assurances to me. I felt our closeness, as much as her sexed words had turned me the fuck on, despite this phenomenon going on, wringing me around and around. As much as I leaned against this cold vulnerability of my shower stall, this chrome, I felt safe within Aria's promised embrace.

Something of her ruthlessness reminded me of my own. Something of her warnings from Insomnia had flipped this switch, steadily locking her soul to mine. Something of Aria felt familiar, too. But in a good way. The best way possible. That selfishness blending into selflessness. Aria's willingness to put me first, even as she obsessed and obsessed. Her intelligence, her skill, her cunning, and her relentlessness…

Someone else had almost had this. Just wasn't quite there. Not in this good, positive, beneficial way.

I remembered those written words from her, so unexpected:

_"I don't think you realize how much trouble you're in, Shepard."_

I remembered it all as I left the shower, straightening my hair. Spritzing on this new, smoother cologne, to get away from those old sensory memories. Putting on my formal Alliance uniform. I held fast to my truest allegiances. I gripped onto this continued sense, lifted out of my body, entrenched in my mind.

And from Aria as my voice of reason from those rooms in Insomnia:

_"For the longest, you acted a certain way around me. Like you didn't give a damn. Like you had everything all figured out. You were too busy sleeping with the enemy. You didn't realize how much danger you were in. But now, you're beginning to see. You're finally waking up to your reality. And you know now—if you don't listen to your instincts, she'll only end up destroying you. Just like Ashley did."_

Back in Insomnia, Aria and Ashley had both given me these same warnings. About walking into a trap with Cerberus, with Miranda and the Illusive Man. If I kept going with Miranda, trying to make things work with her when they clearly weren't going to—that sounded like the imminent danger to me. That would've been foolish of me. That would've been the end of me. But why? _How?_ Why would the Illusive Man all but arrange my marriage to Miranda? He'd acted like my damned father-in-law. And yet he planned on screwing me over in the end anyway? That seemed to be the case. It just made no sense.

What else made no sense:

Miranda's insistence on choosing Cerberus over me.

Jack said she was brainwashed. Indoctrinated into excusing extremism. Not by the Reapers themselves.

Saren had actually been indoctrinated by the Reapers, by Sovereign. I remembered it so clearly: the time we spoke on the Citadel. Our debate that had been stuck in my head ever since, about how he couldn't trust me with these responsibilities. That eerie blue glow in his eyes. The sign of his own indoctrination.

Staring at myself in the mirror, I took pride in these blues.

I focused on my own eyes. Laser-sharp, I drilled my sight through this glass, remembering.

_"I see the universe in your eyes. And I would be a fool to ever look away from you."_

The Illusive Man had that same affect over his irises. Unusual, unnatural.

The exact same eerie blue glow Saren had…

_The Illusive Man was indoctrinated by the Reapers._

And I suddenly realized—

I wasn't supposed to be with Miranda at all. _She_ was the danger…wasn't she?

That relationship with her was a trap. It was a fucking trap. The Illusive Man _wanted_ me to feel like I was stuck with Miranda, just for our responsibilities. No matter what, I would've gotten fed-up with her. No matter what, I would've kept catching her in lie after lie after lie. Our bond would've gradually gotten worse and worse and worse. That would've left us with zero defenses against the Reapers in the end. Or maybe I would've tried anyway. Tried to board a Reaper, tried to disable it anyway. And I would've fallen to indoctrination. That truly would've been the end of our cycle. The pinnacle of a critical mission failure.

From the looks of things, the Illusive Man had almost gotten his wish.

With this epiphany, my first instinct was to protect my team.

If the Illusive Man was a tool for the Reapers, then he planned on obstructing us more. Interfering with the mission even more. He had some type of endgame planned. I just couldn't imagine what it might be.

Doubled over my sink, I barely stopped myself from panicking. My team needed me. I could worry about the Reapers later. I had to look out for my people. I needed to get them safely through this suicide mission, no matter what. Protecting them from the Illusive Man…and from Miranda if necessary.

I couldn't tell anyone. I couldn't tell anyone about this. Not directly.

My team gossiped too much with one another. I couldn't trust that this information wouldn't get to Miranda somehow. I couldn't trust that she wouldn't tell her boss that I knew. I knew it when I fucking met her—that she was a spy. And now I was right back to square one.

Miranda's entire existence acted as a betrayal to me. There was no going back from this. _None._

Reeling with this revelation, I strengthened my resolve.

Protecting my team—Aria and Wrex included—meant more to me than salvaging my dead relationship.

So my decision to move on from Miranda, to turn the page…it wasn't irresponsible of me after all.

More like the exact opposite.

EDI's voice sounded for me: _"Shepard, the Illusive Man would like to speak with you in the comm room."_

"Thanks, EDI," I replied, remembering myself. Red flags, alarms going off—but I had to push forward.

* * *

Alliance pride I bore and wore as my crutch. I leaned on the strength within my officer's uniform, the decorations and prestige ribboned and badged and medaled over my chest. I let this strength lift me up as this elevator took me down. Down to the command deck and out to the CIC. I passed by my crew in their Cerberus fatigues, who each stopped to salute me. I gave them only the shortest of glances as I walked by—enough to appear as normal, to not completely ignore them and tip the Illusive Man off.

Not just him.

Miranda watched me through the surveillance feeds as well. Probably with Liara. Maybe even Tali, too.

They refused to learn their lesson. They refused to respect my wishes. They'd never leave me alone.

_Hard-headed._

Miranda had finally revealed her true colors, all from Liara enabling her worst instincts.

I was so fucking done with them.

Especially because I did not feel Aria's eyes on me this time.

I almost felt she was too nervous to watch me. After sending that email, baring her soul like that, she actually couldn't bear to see me just now. I did enjoy this vulnerability on her, so very unexpected.

Passing through the lab, I found that Mordin wasn't here. I expected he was down in Engineering brainstorming with Legion for the simulation game. Would've been nice to see Mordin's friendly face at a time like this. But I had to make do on my own.

In the comm room, I activated the message terminal at the center table.

Joker let me know, _"Patching the Illusive Man through, Commander."_

From what I had gathered, _those three_ —Miranda, Liara, and Tali—wouldn't be able to eavesdrop on my QEC call with the Illusive Man. They wouldn't see me at all until the call ended. EDI had access to the audio for these calls. I hoped she would listen in on this one. Because I needed her help soon after this.

Stepping through to this illusion, the spectacles of the Illusive Man's office greeted me—for the first time in a long time. Yet it all looked the same to me. That impossible size of the supergiant looming behind the invisible glass: the heat pulsed and throbbed as lava, colored as bright red and blues. That light obscured the Illusive Man himself. Standing across the way, his blackened silhouette moved in shadow. That once-perfect style of his hair looked slightly unkempt, with strands of his hair askew over his forehead, shadowed as thin streaks before the light. The Illusive Man's once-perfect suit, tailored for the gods, looked far more human: somewhat out-of-place and ruffled about, as if he'd just physically exerted himself. But in this moment, that near-two-dimensional shade lit his cigarette. With that light of his omni-tool lighting his wrapped death, I saw that eerie blue glow of the Illusive Man's eyes, confirming all. Blackening his lungs, the rungs of his exhaled smoke blew out and dissolved in danger.

"Shepard—we caught a break. I intercepted a distress call from a turian patrol. They stumbled on to a Collector ship beyond the Korlus system."

A strange gleam over his other hand, caught in the light of the supergiant.

Something soaking, something wet. Dripping down his wrist, his knuckles. Looked too thick to be water.

The Illusive Man slicked his hand through his hair. Whatever had drenched over his hand, he used that as his makeshift hair gel, fixing his style. The same he did with his suit: smoothing down his jacket, his shirt. Adjusting his freeform collar, unbuttoned. Rearranging his presentation. But purposely doing it _now._ Not before I'd arrived. Not before I could see him. So calculating, methodical. He chose to do this.

"The turians were wiped out, but not before they crippled the Collector vessel."

Starker and darker, the Illusive Man faced me. That blue glow highlighted through him, reminding me too much of Saren, too much of that fateful debate we'd had on the Citadel years ago. Maybe the Illusive Man's indoctrination was subtler than Saren's. Maybe the Illusive Man _knew,_ but he still felt like he was in control. That was the whole point, after all. Still able to think. Not quite useless. Not just yet.

Yet as he paced around, nearing his chair, I noticed:

Not everything about this show was pre-prepared.

I caught some nerves in his walk. Some vague jitters in his step. His dress shoes sounded sharper over the pristine black shine of the floor. The Illusive Man hid it away once he sat down. Crossing his legs much tighter than I would've expected. But now that he was back in this proper light, that Cerberus orange around him, I noticed:

The Illusive Man had his cigarette in his left hand. His non-dominant hand. His right hand, which he'd used to fix his hair, fix his suit—I saw streaks of crimson there. Streaks of blood, partially wiped away from his last-minute grooming. And his knuckles looked deformed. Battered and bruised, bloody. Like he'd punched someone several times. Enough to hurt them, badly. Maybe even enough to kill them.

I never would've taken the Illusive Man as the type to get his hands dirty. Not literally. Not like this.

His uneven breaths, ever-so-slight as he regarded me. His emotions—a murder of passion, pure anger.

"I need you to board that ship and get some hard data on the Collectors. Find us a way to get to their homeworld."

As he bored his eyes into mine, I caught something out of the corner of my own:

Slumped over off to the side, there was someone there. Someone wearing a suit of his own. Balding head facing the outer windows, the stars beyond. From his face facing away from me, blood poured and poured. That crimson pooled out over the gleam of the black floor, smearing over that pristine surface. The red reflected the overwhelming dazzle of the supergiant looming over us. And that man's body, whoever he was—I sensed no life from him. No breathing. No movement. He was dead.

Fighting not to look at him, I kept my eyes to the Illusive Man's. And I kept up the conversation: "Hard to imagine how a turian patrol could take out a Collector ship."

The Illusive Man blew out smoke, obscuring his truest intentions—to no avail. "Reports indicate the hull's intact, but all systems seem to be online." Slightly nervous, he inhaled from his cigarette this time, trying to cover up his failings. He choose his words carefully: "They could be making repairs as we speak. I'm not saying it won't be dangerous, but we can't let an opportunity like this slip by."

I didn't believe a word of this mess.

Yet I still acted like I believed, questioning matter-of-factly, "If they had a patrol out there, why aren't the turians sending a recon team in?"

"They will. Eventually," claimed the Illusive Man, calm. He relaxed now that he thought I bought his lies. He thought he had me on his side. "But I intercepted the transmissions. In the meantime, we're feeding them false reports. You're close enough that you can be in and out before the turians learn the truth."

"Are you sure this information's good?"

"Information is my weapon, Shepard. It's good."

We needed to proceed with the mission.

We needed to stop the Collectors. We needed to stop them from abducting our human colonies.

As much as this whole thing set off my alarms, I had to move forward.

I had to keep up this ruse of trusting the Illusive Man as an ally, however temporary.

I just had to get my team through this suicide mission—and then we could move on. _Without Cerberus._

"Send me the coordinates and I'll take care of it."

"Already sent," said the Illusive Man, already back to his old self. I made a point of looking at that corpse now, expecting some answers. "I'm sure you have a number of questions about him as well. There's no need to panic. That's Mr. Henry Lawson. He's Miranda's father. Or he _was._ He's no longer with us. I'd appreciate it if you didn't mention this to anyone. Miranda included. She doesn't need to know."

"Why did you kill him?" I asked, neutral. "Why did you murder him like that? With your bare hands."

"You can figure out why. I can assume what Miranda's told you. Her tales about her father, how controlling he was. Perhaps she shared her confusions about him. The 'feeling' he would give her sometimes throughout her youth. How inappropriate it was. You can extrapolate what I've discovered."

I stared at that dead body, how the blood had poured out far and wide by now.

Completely unsubtle. Obvious. Brutal. Transparent. This wasn't how the Illusive Man operated. Not at all. He'd changed his methods so drastically. He'd switched up his entire MO. All to keep me under his control. All to drum up sympathy for Miranda. All to keep me with her. All to lead me to my ruin.

"Shepard, you're smart enough to see," he said, smoking anew. How ironic he would say that now. "Miranda's obsessions with keeping watch over you. How she uses EDI's surveillance to keep track of you, what you're doing, where you are. She watches you at all times, whenever she can. She may have asked you for a break, but her heart has yet to leave you. Still, it would appear her obsessions and her need for control are hereditary. She learned them from her childhood. _Like father, like daughter."_

Hardening my stare, I knew exactly what he meant. I let my hatreds show enough. Enough to fool him.

But the fact remained:

The Illusive Man would never be this overt. He knew his plan was failing. He was desperate.

"Commander," he asserted. "Miranda isn't herself these days. I understand she hurt you deeply. Not only in recent times, but throughout your entire relationship. She's trying to change, though some habits are hard to break. She misses you. You still love one another. You both have a great responsibility to protect the galaxy and humanity from the Reapers. I hope you can find it in your heart to forgive her."

Incognito.

Hiding in plain sight.

_Completely undetectable._

"I hear what you're saying," I responded. "I'll think it over."

"Good. As for the mission, I have a favor to ask. EDI is capable of broadcasting video and audio to me. She can stream your progress. I would like you to put this functionality of hers to use. Just this once."

"I get it—you're curious. I would be, too. I'll let EDI know."

"I appreciate it. Once you're aboard the Collector ship, establish an uplink with EDI as well. She'll mine their data for information regarding the Omega 4 Relay. We'll use that information to find a way through the relay, to reach their homeworld; put an end to them once and for all. Good luck, Shepard."

Ending the call, I returned to the comm room, never having left in the first place.

 _"Coordinates punched in,"_ said Joker. _"Let's go find us a Collector ship. You wanna head over now, Commander? Or should we wait for Aria first? I'm guessing you want our special guest with us!"_

"She'll meet us there, Joker," I decided, leaving for the elevator. "I'm letting her know."

_"Roger that."_

Back in the safety of my room, I waited a bit before talking to EDI.

I wanted her to physically come up here, anyway. Just speaking with her voice wasn't enough.

Something told me she had definitely listened in.

For now, I sat over my bed. I took this time to think. Making up my mind on how to do this.

I needed Aria's help.

I fucking needed her.

Now more than ever.

"EDI, could you come up to my room? There's something I have to ask you. In-person."

 _"Yes, Commander._ _I will be there momentarily."_

EDI wasted no time in arriving to the elevator, requesting permission to come up. I granted her access.

I left my door unlocked for her.

Before I knew it, EDI was already through the door, fast-walking across my room toward me.

"Shepard," she worried. "I believe you are aware I overheard your call with the Illusive Man. I did not have access to any video footage. Yet I have serious concerns about what I heard."

"I know, EDI… I know."

EDI also knew: "Miranda is exceedingly close to the Illusive Man. But it would appear she is oblivious as to his truest motivations. He is openly leading us into a trap. The way he staged that scene—it was a clear attempt to assess your loyalties, your own motivations. His behavior is…troubling to say the least."

"I'm glad you picked up on that. Needless to say, this is an emergency."

"You cannot go to Miranda with this," noticed EDI. "Do you worry about my friendship with her?"

"Yes," I said plainly.

"Shepard, you are my captain. You will always be my first priority. I would risk non-functionality for you. Any other friendships are a trivial concern in comparison. So I will discard those attachments if that is what you desire. Since Liara's return, Miranda has utilized my lower-tier surveillance feeds at an increased frequency. Her loyalties are clear. She will never abandon Cerberus. Not unless she is forced to. She is compromised. She cannot be trusted as your executive officer, or your second-in-command."

"My thoughts exactly. I need your help. Is there any way we can set up a contingency plan? If this mission today goes sideways, could we override Miranda's authority? If nothing goes wrong, I don't want her to notice. I don't want her to think anything's changed. Not until the absolute last minute."

EDI let me know, "I have created emergency backup roles on the crew manifest. These backup assignments would remain secret. Miranda, the Illusive Man, and any other crew member would not have access to view them. You may assign other crew members to these roles at any time. For example, in the event Miranda would normally take over as captain of the ship, I would instead give that authority to the crew member assigned the role in secret. She would only notice the change at this time."

I gave the order: "Assign yourself as the backup executive officer, EDI. If I'm gone, and Miranda's still aboard, then you have the deck. We're doing this for everything. Not just in case of an emergency."

"Assigning myself now."

There was still one another thing.

EDI could tell—she looked eager to hear the news.

"I have an exception," I declared. "If Aria is aboard while I'm out, then she has full authority. She'll take over as captain. Keep yourself as the backup XO. _Don't tell anyone about this._ Not Legion, not anyone."

"Understood, Commander."

"For the mission—you already know what the Illusive Man asked for. Once we're aboard the Collector ship, you can go ahead and broadcast our progress for him. But I need you to stay alert. Be on the lookout for anything. Anything that could possibly go wrong. I'm counting on you to have our backs."

EDI saluted me. "I will."

"Thanks, EDI… That'll be all. If you stay up here too long, Miranda and the Illusive Man will get suspicious. Return to your duties with Joker. Act natural."

EDI gave me a look of determination before leaving.

Lying back down over my bed, I was about to call Aria; let her know about the mission.

I opened my omni-tool, pulling up my will instead. I'd taken Ashley's name off of here before. Months ago. And now it remained empty. I felt like if I put a name down now, I'd tacitly admit defeat. I couldn't go into the mission with that mindset. So I closed it, put it away for now. We had to persevere today.

* * *

_(Aria)_

Soaking in my hot tub at home, I settled down, unwinding after a long day and night. This warm, warm feeling of the water around my body, and the exfoliation from my soaps helped soothe this stress away. I'd spent all day cleaning up behind the Blue Suns, their internal meddling. Whatever power vacuum they had going on was honestly none of my business. But because they did business on Omega, and I oversaw their key operations, I had turned into a kingmaker. So their potential leaders had spent the past day or so courting me, lobbying me, trying to win my favor. None of it mattered to me in the end.

I had managed to send Shepard that email, in between all of the drama. _That_ was what truly mattered.

Waiting for her reaction, waiting for her response…I'd be lying if I said I wasn't nervous.

To pass the time, I looked over something else to do with her. Some human named Donovan Hock had sent me an invitation to his palace on Bekenstein, a wealthy and cutthroat human colony that specialized in luxurious exports. Apparently, this Hock guy was hosting a party on the first Monday of May, Earth-time, which was supposed to be quite soon. He'd have a runway show going on— _The Thousand Faces of Commander Shepard_ —filled with models who all posed a striking resemblance to the real Shepard. Given that I knew her personally, Hock had invited me to the party as his guest of honor. I'd promised to be there, since it sounded like it could be fun. Though I was undecided on mentioning it to Shepard myself. I knew she wouldn't approve of the whole thing. But it sounded harmless to me, so I planned on heading over to the colony once it was time. Just a couple of more days now.

Given that Hock intended on upstaging the Met Gala on Earth, I'd done my research on it. The whole red carpet event and everything afterward looked intriguing enough. And I wished I could go with Shepard someday. Maybe once things settled down. Unless that was just wishful thinking. Yes, it probably was.

Then again, my pessimism felt like a shield. A shield against Shepard's possible rejection of my feelings. I had no idea how she would react, _if_ she would react. She was technically single now. I had an unusually strong sense that she didn't want to fix her relationship. So maybe there was hope for us after all.

As much as my fucking feelings kept getting to me, taking over at times, I had to remember:

This needed to be her decision.

I couldn't force her. I couldn't chase after her. I couldn't smother her with my expectations.

Selfish to the last, I wanted her all to myself. But I couldn't have Shepard the way I wanted—not unless she ditched those other women around her. Her almost-ex, her crushes, the people from her past. I wanted her to leave them behind. I forever wanted her attention to stay on me. Just me. _No one else._

Maybe Shepard's exes tolerated her wandering eyes.

I absolutely wouldn't. And I hoped she knew that.

For now, I let my own eyes wander, switching on my surveillance of the _Normandy._ Right on time, I found Lawson entering Thane's space in the life support area. Thane, that motherfucker. The last time I overheard him and Lawson chatting, he'd had the nerve to insult Shepard behind her back. Claiming she knew everything, as if she was stuck-up. Calling her self-righteous and judgmental. He had no fucking idea how smart she was, how sharp she was. So she had every damn right to be self-righteous and judgmental. Of course he didn't know that. Thane had no problems insulting his commander to her girlfriend's face. The fact that Lawson didn't even stick up for Shepard—it burned me up, hotter than this bubbling water in my hot tub. It enraged me even more than her little group. How she and Liara and Tali loved shit-talking me when they thought they were alone. Those cliquey, catty bitches, all of them.

Liara hadn't learned her lesson from the past. Her BFF Lawson hadn't learned a damn thing, either. She'd morphed into Ashley by now, full-stop. Did no one pay attention to what happened back then?

But, at the end of the day, I paid them no mind. They meant nothing to me. They were no one to me.

And as much as Thane and Lawson bored me to tears, I listened to them anyway.

Something about them didn't seem right. Something just felt off. I needed to figure out what it was.

 _"Hello, Thane,"_ said Lawson, putting on that same old fake confidence of hers. _"Are you free to talk?"_

 _"Certainly, Miranda,"_ he replied. _"Join me."_

Lawson sat in the chair in front of him, like always. _"A while ago, we discussed how you killed for the hanar as an assassin. But when we met you, you'd become more of a freelancer. What changed?"_

 _"I was asleep for a long time, yes. I paid no attention to what my body was asked to do. But then—"_ He did that thing again: _"Laser dot trembles on his skull. One finger-twitch, he dies. Then the smell of spice on the spring wind. Sunset-colored eyes defiant in the scope. The laser dances away."_ Thane calmed, returning to a normal state. _"My apologies. Drell slip into memories so easily."_

_"Was that one of your assassinations?"_

_"Yes, it was… A bystander noticed my spotting laser, and threw herself between me and the target. She couldn't see me, but she stared me down."_

_"Did you take the shot?"_

Thane lowered his head. _"Not that day."_

_"This bystander sounds important to you. Have you told me about her before? Was she your wife?"_

_"She was indeed. The one I buried on Kahje, as Kolyat protested."_

Lawson encouraged him, _"I'm happy to talk about her—if you feel comfortable doing so."_

 _"Of course,"_ allowed Thane. _"I kept my work clear of our home life. I assumed that would be enough to protect Irikah. That memory I mentioned just now…that was her. That was how I met my wife. She saw my targeting laser as she walked by, and threw herself in the way."_

_"I guess she impressed you."_

_"She woke me up."_ Slipping into another memory: _"Her body trembles. Not fear. Indignation. Her mouth moves. 'How dare you?'"_ And back again, like nothing happened. _"I was trained to sacrifice myself to save others. How often does a civilian step in the way of a bullet, to protect someone they've never met? I thought she was the goddess Arashu. She met my eyes through the scope, and my purpose faltered."_

 _"I can certainly see the appeal,"_ said Lawson, sounding nostalgic. _"So how did she go from blocking your shot to having your children?"_

_"I had to meet her. The memory possessed and endowed me. I fell on my knees before her. Begged her pardon. She introduced me to the world beyond my work. Eventually, she forgave me. Later she loved me. But as you know, I wasn't able to save her in the end. I let myself become complacent. I thought Irikah and Kolyat were safe. I stayed away too long, and my enemies came for her."_

_"That's awful. Who came for her?"_

Thane explained, _"Batarians. A slaver ring that was preying on hanar outer colonies. I'd killed their leaders. They paid the Shadow Broker to find out who I was. But they were afraid of me, so they went after her. I told Kolyat that I hunted her killers down. And when she passed, I returned to my battle sleep. My body hunted her killers. Murdered them. I was taught to grant death quickly, cleanly. To minimize suffering. Them—I let them linger."_

_"You were operating on instinct. By your own rules, you can't blame yourself."_

_"But I made the choice to hunt them. They're the only lives I've ever taken of my own choice. The only deaths on my own conscience. I also realize…I haven't spoken about my wife in—I don't think I ever have. I didn't have anyone left to tell it to."_

Lawson reminded him, _"You're looking for your son again. Trying to re-establish your connection to one another. That's important. You can't lose sight of that by dwelling on what should have been."_

 _"You are correct,"_ replied Thane, smiling. _"Of course."_ He leaned closer to her. His wide, dark eyes brimmed with a gentle emotion. Holding it all back, he settled on saying: _"Thank you for listening,_ siha."

_"Hm? I think my translator just glitched. What did you call me?"_

"Siha," he repeated, oddly mysterious. _"Someday, I'll tell you what it means."_

Well, that was…weird. Strange. Unusual.

Their whole conversation did nothing to get rid of this feeling I had about them. They only reinforced it.

I knew Lawson was gay. Case closed. But maybe Thane wasn't aware. She gave him attention, and that seemed to be good enough on his end. Thane seemed so fucking lonely without his son and his wife. He must not have cared about anything else. Because once they started talking about Shepard, about how she and Lawson were on a break…I spotted the change. How Thane withdrew into himself. Only asking the bare minimum. Giving equally minimal responses, but still listening. That psychology disturbed me.

Saving me from this hell, Shepard finally called.

I cut off the feed with Thane and his new beloved, answering:

"Hey, babe."

_"Aria."_

Again, something didn't seem right. "What's the matter? I thought you were doing better lately."

 _"I am doing better,"_ promised Shepard. _"Your email helped me. It really did. Thank you for sending it."_

I felt my hands roaming my body, wading through this water. "If that's the case, tell me what you think."

_"You intrigue the hell out of me, for one. There's this contradiction you have. You're such a powerful woman. You're absolutely stunning, confident, intelligent. No one can fuck with you. No one can tell you a damn thing. At the same time, there's a void deep in your spirit. A void you long for me to fill. You would do anything for me. That's the impression I took away from your message. Or is that not true?"_

I wasn't expecting her to suddenly strip me down like this—as bare as I already was.

"…yes, that's correct. Why do you ask? Why is this important to you?"

_"Because I'm sick of this constant cycle. I give someone my all, only for her to betray me in the end. She shows her true colors. I can't stand her anymore. The relationship's dead. And I have to move on. So if we're going to do this, I have to be sure first. I need your word that this cycle won't repeat with us."_

"Shepard, I know how you feel. You're sick and tired. You're sick and tired of being sick and tired. I completely respect that. I'm nothing like those people from your past. I'm not faking my personality. I don't care enough about your exes to plot against them, either. Unlike them, I'm ride-or-die. I swear to you— _this is who I am._ What you see is what you get. How I am with you today is how I'll be when we're still together years later. Sure, you and I will clash; get into arguments from time to time. But it's perfectly natural. That cycle won't repeat with us. I promise you it won't. I refuse to let that happen."

 _"I believe you,"_ said Shepard, as such a relief. _"Is there something you need from me? Any promises."_

Where to start… "There's quite a lot, babe. For now, I suppose there's just one major thing."

_"Tell me. I'm listening."_

"Listen, I'm all for individuality. Freedom. Sovereignty. But when I say I'm selfish, I mean that in a possessive way. I don't want you crushing on other women. I don't want you holding on to some special love for the ones who betrayed you. You say you'll always love them. That won't fly with me. I need you to drop them. I need to be the only one you have eyes for. I need your total and complete devotion. I need your exclusive loyalty. If I have it from you, then you'll have it from me. It's as simple as that."

 _"Consider it done,"_ she promised—so soon.

"You—but how? How are you this sure? I thought this would be impossible. Or that it would take time."

Shepard wouldn't say.

"Okay then, fine," I settled. "Be mysterious and keep me guessing. It gets me off anyway. Win-win."

She laughed, low and deep. Too sexy.

_"I'd love for us to talk more about this. But I do need some time to think. I promise I'm not going back. I just need a bit of time to adjust. I'm settling into this new reality with you. Can you be patient with me?"_

"I don't mind at all. As long as I can look forward to…moving _forward_ with you."

 _"You can, Aria,"_ she promised, more. _"Let's take this one day at a time. If that'll work for you."_

I smiled so freely. "That does work for me. I know you want to be a gentleman. I appreciate it."

_"Of course I do. You deserve it. There's another reason why I called, though. It's important."_

"What is it?"

_"The next mission with the Collectors just came up. I need you with us. How soon can you leave?"_

Standing up all of a sudden, I told her, "I'm on my way now."

Shepard paused.

She heard this draping waterfall down my body. And it sent her imagination flying, soaring high.

_"Were you…taking a bath?"_

"Yes, babe, I was," I told her, stepping out. "In my hot tub. I'm drying off now, getting dressed. But, since we have a mission, I'm not going to tease you. I'll just let you keep wondering about my body instead."

The way Shepard grunted, forcing her self-control—I absolutely adored her for it.

I couldn't wait to drive her crazy; break that control of hers, all for me. Later on. Once it felt right.

Above all, Shepard knew she had an upgrade with me. The shit her exes had put her through—I'd learned from them, and I refused to repeat their mistakes. With everything I'd gone through—I trusted Shepard to be loyal, and for her to take care of me. It took some time…but I loved that we'd finally come together like this. I loved that I had gotten through to her. And I loved that I no longer had to dwell on the past. We could both move on with each other. The days of us suffering in angst were officially over.

"So then, tell me about this mission. Give me the rundown. Where are we going? What's our objective?"

This juxtaposition of Shepard's professionalism in giving me this rundown, and how she clearly held back her other, stronger impulses—she had me smirking and smiling, smiling and smirking as I readied myself for the day. I would give her the occasional hum of acknowledgment. Just to let her know I paid attention. But I did it with my lips firmly pressed together, putting pressure on these dirtier sentiments of mine. They nearly slipped out of my mouth a few times. But I remembered my own professionalism.

We stayed on the line together as I boarded my ship, following the coordinates Shepard had sent over.

As I made my way over, I wondered more about her. Shepard gave me this clear sense: that she needed me now more than ever. Even more so than these past few weeks when she hadn't been herself, pre-emptively mourning her losses. This need from her seemed deeper. Much deeper than any lost relationships. Whatever it was, Shepard kept me closer because of it, even as these stars separated us.

* * *

Reaching the _Normandy_ out in the middle of nowhere, I'd prepared myself mentally for the mission.

Shepard had made herself clear.

She wanted us to focus on the mission first and foremost. Strictly business. She promised we would see each other again soon enough: once Mordin had that simulation game ready. We would meet up on the Citadel then; spend some real quality time together. Until then, I would have to enjoy that party on Bekenstein, all while giving Shepard the time she'd asked for. It was difficult, because I hadn't seen Shepard in-person in about a month. But I did promise to be patient for her. For just a little while longer.

 _A little while longer_ was nothing compared to the few years I had spent without her. Centuries, even.

I felt the culmination of those years, boarding Shepard's ship for the second time. She awaited me right at the airlock, wearing her N7 armor. That awe of her sniper rifle hung over her back, folded neatly. My first instinct was to go to her. But then I noticed her entire team hanging out in the CIC nearby. They watched us with their own reactions, though everyone seemed…enraptured. In their own ways. I wasn't sure what they noticed between Shepard and me. But it was enough to keep them all dead quiet.

"Aria."

"Shepard."

She met me with such a handsome sternness. I stood close enough to her, admiring Shepard without her helmet. This severity of her sunlit stare; the natural sheen of her golden brown complexion; the long, sharp, defined shape of her face. _Very_ easy on the eyes. I caught wind of her new cologne, too. This smooth smell, I hadn't expected. It certainly inspired this focus in my gaze, which I hadn't meant to give. Shepard returned my focus, speaking without words how much she needed me here. I wanted to reach out and kiss her. Or I wanted her to take charge and kiss me first instead. Maybe I gave myself away, openly checking her out like this—but I couldn't help it. Besides, this look in her eyes…she made me feel like I was the only woman in the galaxy.

Joker had turned all the way around in his seat, practically drooling over the sight of us together.

Shepard knew, and brought me over to him anyway. Chivalrous in her intentions, she pressed her hand over my waist, guiding me along with her. Closer to these bright orange lights of the _Normandy's_ main control console. Closer to these open shutters, revealing our desolate place out in this abandoned space. I forced my stronger focus, even as I felt the weight of Shepard's decision. She had me stand next to her at the helm. As her equal. She treated me as if I could have been her ship's captain—if necessary. Such an unmovable power about her, one she exuded, siphoning to me with or without meaning to.

Knowing how many eyes we had on us, I merely folded my arms, watching Shepard do her thing.

Joker quickly cleared his throat, announcing, "We have a visual on the Collector ship, Commander!"

EDI sat in the co-pilot's seat next to him, informing us, "Very low emissions. Passive infrared temperatures suggest most systems are offline. Thrusters are cold."

"That thing's massive. How the hell did the turians take it out?"

Shepard appeared to have her own theories about this. Yet she chose not to voice them.

EDI went on, "Ladar scans do not detect any hull breaches on the side facing us. I detect no mass effect field distortions. It appears the drive core is offline."

"Rendezvous in thirty seconds," said Joker. He looked up at Shepard, genuinely wanting to know: "You decide who you're bringing with you? Doesn't look like you'll face any resistance inside. No clue how long that'll hold for. Maybe you should play it safe? Bring the whole team along?"

Shepard had already made up her mind. "I'm playing it safe in other ways. Aria, EDI—with me."

I retrieved my breather for the ship, doubly-aware of my shotgun holstered behind me.

EDI exited her seat, giving me a warm smile. She already had her own shotgun equipped. Ready to go.

I was surprised Shepard had only chosen to bring the two of us along. EDI and myself. But we followed her down the bridge anyway. I of course had no reason to question her decision. She knew best, after all. Though I became hyper-aware of everyone's eyes on me. We passed the group in the CIC—Legion, Zaeed, Garrus, Mordin, Jack, Tali, Alenko, Kasumi, Samara, Thane, James, Javik, Liara, and Lawson. I caught the clear motivations behind their individual stares. Jack, Zaeed, and Kasumi each looked amused by the whole thing, smug and smirking. Especially because Lawson looked like she'd just seen a ghost, as offended and blindsided as she was in this moment. She hadn't expected Shepard to _just_ bring EDI and me along. She hadn't expected this high-profile snub. Everyone else could put the pieces together.

Rumors had gotten around about Shepard's relationship. They all discussed it in something called a _TRS._ The team referenced it a lot. I had no idea what this _TRS_ was, but I definitely planned on finding out.

Liara watched me like a fucking hawk as I walked by her. Tali did, too, beneath that mask of hers.

Meanwhile, Samara welcomed this change. I couldn't know why. But the justicar regarded me in peace. I wanted to ask her about it. There was no time.

Shepard led EDI and me onto the elevator; away from that whole spectacle, and down to the cargo hold. At the shuttle, Shepard held her hand out to me. I accepted her gallantry, pleased to let her prop me up like this. And when I sat down, she sat next to me—though not as close as I wanted. Just slightly closer than she would have before, had she still been in denial about us. EDI settled into her seat across the way. As the shuttle took off, I noticed how _comfortable_ EDI was with me. Already. Even after only teaming up for one other mission before this. Like Samara, she seemed so happy with me. Why, though?

"Shepard," said EDI. "Should I also stream our progress for the rest of the team?"

"That's fine," allowed Shepard. "Go ahead and set up the link. The others can watch from the bridge."

"Understood."

So we would have an audience.

Good. I wanted to show off a little; prove to them why Shepard specifically chose to bring me with her.

As she put on her N7 helmet, I followed her lead, settling my breather over my nose and mouth. The shuttle touched down, opening to the strange darkness of this ship. EDI and I stayed after Shepard, shotguns drawn. Our commander led the way forward. Following her, focusing on her, I still took care to take in our surroundings. These polished walls and doors, the craggy surfaces, all of black and silvers and a distinct Collector shade of brown. Those fleshy sacs hanging from the ceiling, sprouting from the ground. And this silence. An eerie obscurity, devoid of life or purpose. Nothing existed here. Not really.

Shepard's teammates could see everything through EDI's broadcast.

Even the way these sacs kept dripping some disgusting substance down from the ceiling.

I heard Jack's voice through our radio: _"Never seen a ship like this before."_

 _"I love what they've done with the place,"_ joked Garrus.

Mordin commented, _"Unusual ship design. Hard to track lines, angles. Disturbing. Somewhat resembles insect hive."_

Javik said, _"This design resembles the ones from my people long ago. But this one is…sterile. Lifeless."_

 _"This looks familiar to you?"_ asked Liara.

_"Yes. We did not have those—sacs, however. Those are strictly from the Collectors. They are twisted."_

EDI informed us, "Penetrating scans have detected an access node to uplink with Collector databanks. Marking location to your hardsuit computer." As we kept going, she analyzed more: "Shepard, I have compared the ship's EM signature to known Collector profiles. It is the same vessel we encountered on Horizon and Eden Prime."

Tali speculated: _"Perhaps the colonists are still there…if they're still alive."_

 _"Doubt they're alive,"_ said Alenko. _"That'd have to be a miracle. Not feeling too hopeful, honestly."_

Through these labyrinthine hallways, those craggy surfaces took over everywhere, like pure rock growing out from the ship, forming more walls filled with hives. The overall design appeared more and more alien as we progressed. I spotted a number of coffin-like pods, each oozing with some noxious gas.

 _"Same containers as Horizon,"_ noted Mordin. _"Only empty."_

 _"Must've been horrible,"_ lamented James. _"Trapped in these pods. Helpless. Completely at the mercy of the Collectors. I've seen what they do up-close. Not something I'd ever wish on my worst enemy."_

Down another hallway, we found a bunch of dead humans. Just piled up in a corner, tossed aside and forgotten about. So deformed and decayed, the corpses had blended into each other, dead flesh molding into other dead flesh around it, turning into some giant mass of limbs and bones and armor.

 _"The hell happened there?"_ asked Zaeed.

Kasumi didn't like it. _"Whatever it is, it's making my stomach churn…"_

Liara wondered, _"Why would the Collectors just leave a pile of bodies lying around?"_

Mordin knew, _"Test subjects from control group. Discarded after experiment was over."_

"They're dead," stated Shepard. "Nothing we can do. Keep moving."

We passed by more of those dead bodies, more of those pods everywhere. But after a while, we found what looked like an open lab. A series of pods hooked up to machines; and a working control terminal there in the center. Shepard went over to the terminal, examining it. EDI and I watched her back. Playing it smart—just in case—we stayed on our guard, keeping an eye out for anything.

Javik could already tell what this was. _"The Collector nearest to you is glowing. They were experimenting on one of their own. One of my people who had turned. We heard tales of the Collectors running such tests on our fallen comrades. It is possible they have continued this practice."_

"EDI?" asked Shepard.

EDI confirmed: "After scanning the available data, Javik appears to be correct. The Collectors were running baseline genetic comparisons between their species and humanity."

"Well, they're harvesting us for a reason. Are they looking for similarities?"

"I have no hypothesis on their motivations. All I have are preliminary results. They reveal what we already know—that the Collectors were once Protheans. They are no longer strictly the same. The Collectors' genes show distinct signs of extensive genetic rewrite. The Reapers have repurposed them to suit their needs, even in the centuries after Javik's cycle ended. Though I also see…something troubling."

Samara had to ask, _"What could be more troubling than the genetic perversion of an entire species?"_

 _"Yeah, what she said,"_ added Joker.

"The human bodies we discovered earlier," said EDI. "They were indeed test subjects. That control group…possessed a similar genetic makeup to the commander. The Collectors were attempting to recreate Shepard's person. They wished to study her—perhaps her immunity to indoctrination. They tried to replicate her immunity in the test subjects, and then in the Collectors themselves. They failed."

Lawson finally spoke up, _"But that's impossible… They should know better. Why would they even bother?"_

Legion told her, _"Replicating Shepard-Commander's immunity is a means to expose her faults. If the Collectors can recreate Shepard-Commander's immunity's successes, they can also deconstruct her immunity's failures. Without Shepard-Commander's direct participation, such experiments would require a significant amount of test subjects."_

Shepard sounded pissed off—"Wait a minute, Legion. Are you saying what I think you're saying?"

Everyone went way too quiet.

They couldn't say it, so I spelled it out for them:

"Sounds pretty clear to me, Shepard. The Collectors are abducting your species—because of you. They're trying to replicate your immunity to indoctrination. All those innocent colonists are their test subjects. It's possible this isn't the only reason for the abductions. But it's at least one driving factor."

These piles of human corpses around us.

The countless colonists the Collectors had abducted already.

Shepard brought her hand to her helmet, wracked with guilt. She immediately felt responsible.

No one else knew what to say.

And I found before me my first real challenge with her. Was I supposed to say something? Touch her shoulder, offer words of encouragement? Was it worth exposing her emotions to the rest of the team? I didn't want to embarrass her. I didn't want to force Shepard to save face. But if I held my tongue…that wouldn't be true to my word. I had promised to take care of her. So if that meant compromising—stepping out of my comfort zone from time to time—then I would do it. Doing _nothing_ felt worse.

"The mission hasn't changed," I reminded her. "We're putting an end to the Collectors. One way or another. By your lead. This is all the more reason to destroy them once it's time. Let this motivate you."

Shepard regarded me through that slot of her helmet. She found her resolve again through my eyes.

"You're right, Aria. Let's find what we need before the Collectors come to salvage this place. Move out."

Just before leaving, Shepard noticed several in-tact weapons on the ground. She searched the pile, finding a sniper rifle—the same one she already had—along with an assault rifle and a shotgun. She picked up that heavy Claymore shotgun, looking to me.

"Did you want this?" she asked. "Either of you."

"Looks way too heavy," I replied. "The one I have weighs a ton as it is. I'll have to pass."

EDI nodded, thinking the same.

Shepard gave a thoughtful hum, abandoning the errant guns and continuing ahead.

We walked through another narrow area, filled with more pods. Those closed containers glowed an unnatural gold. And the wide opening up above gave off an ethereal, unholy light of the same shade, filled with dozens and dozens of pods sticking out from the wall. More on the ceiling, too. Everywhere.

Liara sounded subdued for some reason. _"More of those strange pods…"_

 _"There appear to be hundreds,"_ noted Javik. _"And I wonder how many are full. Possibly all of them."_

EDI reported, "I detect no signs of life in the pods, Shepard. It is probable the victims inside died when the ship lost primary power."

Up a winding ramp, we kept going, higher and higher as these paths led us to some unknown end.

Narrower and narrower this path became, with a single ethereal light guiding us at the very top.

And even though no one appeared to be around, I refused to let my guard down.

Shepard seemed focused enough. She seemed okay. But I couldn't shake this feeling. This feeling that so much more awaited us on this ship. And I knew that Shepard knew. She was prepared. Prepared for anything. So that made things easier for me. She had my life in her hands, and I had hers in mine.

 _"Commander,"_ said Joker. _"You gotta hear this. On a hunch, I asked EDI to run an analysis on the ship."_

"I compared the EM profile against data recorded by the original _Normandy_ two years ago. They are an exact match. This appears to support Aria's observations about the Collectors' motivations."

"Looks like it," agreed Shepard. "Way beyond coincidence."

I remembered hearing the news of Shepard's death that day. Her ship attacked by some unknown vessel. _This_ vessel. I had never felt an anger like that before. Those memories would only distract me at a time like this—so I sealed them away. But I could admit to myself that I wanted some payback.

The end of this tunnel opened outward to the rest of the Collector ship. Taller and wider than any building I'd ever been in, this place looked massive. Beyond massive. Nearly impossible in scope, this felt more like a part of nature outside. Twisted and fucked up, but still more expansive than anything that should've been on a single ship. A network of pods lining everywhere, webbing along the rise of these rounded walls, with pockets of lights like windows. More of those crags raised up everywhere, knifing the view of the 'sunlight' awaiting us on the opposite side. We headed toward those rays of light, expecting to find something more on the other end. Something that might explain this giant mess.

 _"So many pods,"_ commented Mordin. _"Could depopulate all Terminus Systems. Still wouldn't fill them."_

Tali worried, _"Are they going to target Earth?"_

"They won't," declared Shepard. "Not if we stop them."

The false sleekness of this ground, this pathway glowed with the shine of those rays. Walking just behind Shepard like this, I almost saw her in that light. As if the Collectors had devoted their entire operation to mirroring her, reflecting her. But they'd only managed a poor imitation, rife with decline and decay.

At the end of the road, we found a platform surrounded by some sort of tubes and machinery. Those tubes snaked down to the depths below, webbing from the top of that crag. What were they for?

 _"Weird that no one's around,"_ said Zaeed. _"No Collectors at all. Nothing. Watch your back, Shepard."_

He didn't have to tell her twice—or at all, really.

Shepard went to the command console, gesturing for EDI to join her. I watched their backs as always.

"EDI, see if you can get anything useful from the data banks."

"At once," complied EDI, interacting with the green glimmer of the console. "Data mine in progress."

For some reason, my hands started sweating against my shotgun. The moisture almost seeped past my fingerless gloves. I lightly activated my biotics, letting this blue and white glow around me. Unexpected, I found that this sound helped Shepard somehow. She started breathing a little easier, listening to this soothing from me, however unintentional. Had she felt this from me back on Eden Prime? I couldn't tell.

What mattered most—Shepard was back at full-capacity. Back at two hundred percent. I just knew it.

Joker sounded rattled. _"Uh…that can't be good."_

Something in those tubes flowed through all of a sudden.

Shepard sounded prepared. "Joker, status report."

_"Major power surge. Everything went dark, but we're back up now."_

EDI didn't look so calm. "I managed to divert the majority of the overload to non-critical systems… Shepard, it was not a malfunction. This was a trap. There is someone else in the system. The Collectors are attempting to breach the ship!"

This platform suddenly raised up, taking us for a ride. Spinning in this slow madness, I had no idea where the fuck we were going. I grabbed Shepard's arm. Trying to keep her steady with me. She leaned into my hold, balancing herself against my support. EDI somehow stayed still where she was, gripping the chest-high walls back there. She did all that while fighting whatever the hell attacked the ship's systems.

"EDI, stop the breach," ordered Shepard. "Whatever it takes. Don't let the Collectors get my ship again."

"Yes, Commander. I need to finish downloading the data before I can override any systems."

Another platform flew toward us, bringing a bunch of Collectors with it.

 _"Alert!"_ said Legion. _"Hostile contacts inbound."_

Another platform and another and another—a near-platoon of hostiles came right for us.

Knowing how exposed Shepard was out here, left with nowhere to hide, I acted on instinct.

Holding a wide stance, holding my arms up—I erected a biotic field around us just in time. An endless volley of bullets and golden particle rifle fire came straight at us. Everything bounced right off of my defenses. Shepard readied her sniper rifle, getting to work. I held up her only cover to shoot safely, as exposed as we were on this damned platform. I protected her while she fired off her perfect shots. One by one, she dropped those Collectors shooting at us. Sometimes even more than one at a time—Shepard had that godly accuracy to pop off multiple heads in a row, downing anyone lined up together.

"Forty-one percent complete," said EDI.

The Collector troopers, the captains, the giant hulking Scions, and those possessed units: Shepard killed them all on her own. Having to reload after every single shot didn't seem to faze her. I held onto those clacking sounds of her reloading, her heavy duty movements, as her eyes focused on her next target. She felt the pressure. She kept going. She kept up this art form of her skills as a sniper, practically shooting into that false sunlight across the horizon. I forced myself to hold up this barrier for her, with these platforms filled with more Collectors coming for us, one after another after another after another.

 _"Holy shit, Aria,"_ spoke Jack, in awe. _"How the fuck are you still going?! Aren't you tired by now?"_

Because I knew—if I dropped this bubble, the Collectors would cut right through Shepard's shields.

Shepard knew the same—she kept downing our enemies, thinning the gunfire. Making this a bit easier.

Teamwork with my partner…even in the most impossible situations.

 _"Goddess,"_ breathed Liara, incredulous.

Alenko couldn't believe it, either. _"This just seems…impossible. I mean look at that onslaught!"_

 _"Keep it up, Shepard,"_ encouraged Garrus. _"Your shots are just right. They're falling fast."_

"Eighty-four percent."

 _"Hey, EDI!"_ yelled Joker. _"Can't you speed this up?! Yeah, Aria and Shepard are kicking ass, but…"_

"No, Jeff. I am simultaneously fighting Collector firewalls in over 8,000 nodes. I am tasked to capacity."

Then the worst timing when Shepard said, "Running low."

She reloaded again. Fired off another shot. Shepard didn't have enough thermal clips left. Not after firing off her Widow enough times to end an army. She needed to save at least some for our escape soon. But those fucking monsters kept on coming. Three or more platforms swirled toward us, carrying more Collector troopers, more Scions, more of those possessed captains and guardian and drones.

And the amount of cover on this platform was pathetic.

"Shepard, get behind me," I told her. She quickly did as I said, pressing her back against mine.

Charging every ounce of my rage, I took the energy from my biotic field, shooting it, thrusting it forward.

The shockwave to end all shockwaves: I sent those fuckers flying, sent the other platforms off and away.

I let myself lean over, drained. Almost completely drained. But I didn't see any of those platforms coming back; and I had Shepard's support, with the way she held my shoulders, reinforcing my strength with her own. Feeling her against me like this, I felt invincible. Like I could do anything. She revitalized me, encouraging without words that I take this moment. I just needed to catch my breath. I was fine.

EDI came through: "I have regained control of the platform, Shepard. I also managed to successfully thwart the Collectors' efforts. They attempted to infect the _Normandy_ with a virus. Had you not unshackled me, it is possible the virus would have escaped my notice."

With her control, EDI took our platform back down to where we came from.

"What would've happened if they'd infected the _Normandy_ with that thing?"

"There is a chance the virus could have caused instability in other systems. The Collectors intended on tracking the _Normandy's_ location. Once they found our location, I would have lost control of the ship's propulsion and primary defense systems. We would not have been able to escape. I believe they would have attempted to abduct the crew. I could not thwart the abduction if I were still shackled as before."

Shepard praised her, "Then I'm glad you stopped that from happening. I knew I could count on you."

EDI gave a proud smile. "I always work at optimal capacity."

"Did you get what we needed?"

"Yes, Shepard. I found data that could help us successfully navigate the Omega 4 Relay. I have also found the turian distress call that served as the lure for this trap. The Collectors were the source. It is unusual."

"Why is it unusual? What are you getting at?"

"Turian emergency channels have secondary encryption. It is corrupted in the message. It is not possible that the Illusive Man would believe the distress call was genuine… I found the anomaly with Cerberus detection protocols. He wrote them."

If there was ever a time for Shepard to be surprised, caught off-guard, that time was now.

Except she just…stared at EDI. No reaction whatsoever. EDI stared back at her with the same look.

Joker asked, _"The Illusive Man knew all this? Why would he send us into a trap?"_

Zaeed blurted out what I wanted to say— _"That son of a bitch sent us straight into Collector hands!"_

Jack snorted. _"Big surprise there."_

Lawson dug her own grave: _"There has to be some other explanation! The Illusive Man wouldn't do this to us. He…he just wouldn't!"_

The fucking _fury_ steaming from Shepard's entire aura, straight through her armor.

If she said anything in this moment, she would've exploded.

Kasumi actually clapped back instead— _"Hey, Miranda… Considering what's going on between you and Shepard right now,_ maybe _that's not the smartest thing to say. Who knew you were this naïve?"_

 _"I don't like what you're implying,"_ snapped Lawson. _"You have some nerve."_

_"Not really. You're the one who keeps putting her foot in her mouth, then wondering why people turn against you. It's not a good look. I don't know why I expected better from you. In that sense, I'm not implying anything at all. Just stating a fact. You're thoughtless and hurtful and I'm not here for it."_

Tali and Liara gasped, seriously clutching their imaginary pearls.

Jack and Zaeed howled with laughter.

_Oh, this was delicious._

_"Whoa,"_ said James, pointlessly so. _"That…kinda came out of nowhere."_

 _"Nope,"_ corrected Jack. _"After what the cheerleader did on Pragia, Kasumi's protective of me. That's all."_

Alenko whined about decorum: _"Okay, sure, but do you_ really _have to air it out in the open like this?"_

"Enough," stated Shepard. "Deal with this mess after the mission. I don't want to hear it."

Some kind of lightning storm started up overhead. Was that from the ship deciding to wake up now?

 _"Uh… Commander,"_ called Joker. _"We've got another problem. The Collector ship is powering up. You three need to get out before their weapons come online. I'm not losing another Normandy!"_

"I do not have full control of their systems," explained EDI. "I will do what I can. The shuttle is currently waiting for extraction. Sending coordinates to your hardsuit computer. Expect hostiles in our path."

Shepard grabbed my hand, cloaking with me.

"EDI, activate your tactical cloak. Come on, let's move!"

The three of us, invisible, hurried through the ship. But Shepard fucking _hurried._ She took off! She bolted through these hallways closing in on us. And I barely kept up with her. Just by my own luck and determination, knowing that Shepard clutched my grip and gripped onto me. She refused to let me go. And even though I was already exhausted from pushing myself earlier, I kept running. I tried and tried.

She had somehow taken me on a bullet train, pulling me along like this.

Needing to keep up with her, needing to reach her, I forced myself to stay at her pace.

Groups of Collectors showed up across the way. Across the rooms, across the halls, across these giant open spaces. Those buzzing sounds from their wings filled the air as the troopers descended. Those clicking sounds they made filled the atmosphere as they searched and searched for us, weapons drawn. As hard as they looked, they couldn't spot us anywhere. Not with Shepard bolting through the place like lightning. She guided me along, keeping me with her in this reality, this allegory of our reality and our situation these days. And I had wanted her, needed her to do this for so long; I forced and forced and forced myself to run with her. I pushed my legs as hard as they would go.

But my lungs wouldn't keep up. Burning now, they'd enflamed. My energy couldn't replenish itself. I felt jealous of EDI, the way she could just keep running as a synthetic, not needing to worry about her own organs working against her. I could barely breathe in my breather. This transparent material over my face fogged up with my failures, my weakness. I had no goddamned control whatsoever. Like Shepard pulled me along and my mind willed myself to follow, except my body couldn't physically stay with her.

I barely realized when we stopped at a closed door.

"EDI?" said Shepard, not winded at all. "We've got a problem here."

"A temporary setback on Firewall 3217. Rerouting commands through Firewall 7164."

A break…maybe.

Shepard held me steady. She pressed us against the chill of this huge door—while a fucking Praetorian floated across the way. That giant clawed monstrosity just casually wandered around looking for us. All of its Collector friends ambled through the room on foot. Those zombie husk things moaned and groaned in an open-mouthed agony, their constant wailing echoing everywhere, getting on my nerves. Of course Shepard sensed my mood: she placed her hand along the back of my neck, pulling me close to her chest. She reset me back to where I needed to be. Even if it was only temporary.

EDI managed to open a door on the opposite wall. Quietly this time, we made our way over there. Over to these narrow pathways—I recognized our progress. Down the steep drop was that open lab, close to the entrance. I expected us to go around. Then all of a sudden, Shepard full-on picked me up. She jumped down this sharp drop like it was nothing. No big deal at all. And then EDI followed after us.

For the sake of my pride, Shepard was kind enough to set me back down. She grabbed my hand again and had us sprint off. Back down to the shuttle. Back down to that opening, out to the stars watching over us. Just this last thing. This swarm of husks taking up too much space, making it impossible for us to pass by undetected. Impatient as hell, I used my free hand: sent a Flare blast at the whole group, disintegrating them in seconds. Shepard and EDI ran with me through the rise of violet smoke left behind. And _another_ swarm—EDI dealt with them, blasting her Snap Freeze, congealing them in time.

 _"We're out of time, Commander!"_ said Joker. _"We have to go!"_

Making it to the shuttle, the door opened.

Shepard hustled EDI and me inside first. She followed after us, hurrying through.

Just as the shuttle got us back to the _Normandy,_ the Collector ship fully powered back up.

_"Strap-in, people—gonna make them work for it this time!"_

Joker took off, getting us the hell out of here.

* * *

Crisis averted, I finally breathed. Safely in the cargo bay, staying seated in the shuttle, I managed to catch my breath. Shepard and EDI both paced around right outside. I knew Shepard was livid. If it was possible for a synthetic to be livid, too, then EDI definitely felt it. Deep down, though, I couldn't believe what had just happened. At the same time, I privately praised Shepard's foresight, her planning skills and execution. Had she brought her other teammates along—the non-infiltrators, or the ones she couldn't cloak with—then we wouldn't have made it in time. We would've all been dead.

And if Shepard didn't _like_ Tali and Liara anymore…

Did that mean she couldn't cloak with them? What would've happened if she'd brought them instead?

The question remained for Lawson as well.

If Shepard was over her, what did that mean for the future?

Was I horribly selfish for wanting Shepard to have me instead?

I had a feeling I wasn't meant to worry over this. But I still felt the need to wonder. For obvious reasons.

"EDI, shut off that broadcast for the Illusive Man. I'm going to talk to him now. We need answers."

"Yes, Shepard. I have ended the broadcast."

"Better yet," added Shepard. "Get rid of that functionality in your system. It needs to go."

"Very well. Terminating it now."

Once my breathing returned to normal, Shepard looked to me.

She offered her hand.

I accepted her gesture, letting Shepard help me out of the shuttle. She guided me with her to the elevator. EDI joined us, heading up to the command deck. But as she returned to the helm with Joker, Shepard had me follow her to the comm room. The rest of the team continued hanging around in the CIC. Most of them regarded me in congratulations, quietly praising my strengths. My usual haters were nowhere to be found, though. I supposed they'd fucked off to the crew deck by now. Typical.

In the comm room, Shepard had me join her for this QEC call—with the Illusive Man.

I had never seen him with my own eyes.

But now seemed like the perfect time to meet him properly.

I didn't have much freedom to take in this sudden change of our surroundings. The drama of this man's office, the supergiant behind him, the views…I somehow wasn't surprised. The Illusive Man sat there in his chair, wearing his nice suit, and smoking a cigarette. He stared me down with those odd, eerie blue eyes of his.

What was with the bandages over his hand? Did he hurt himself or something?

"Aria," he greeted. "I wasn't expecting you. It's good we're able to finally meet."

"Hardly," I sneered. "I know what you tried to do on Omega. And I'm not pleased. Let's leave it at that."

The Illusive Man crushed the end of his cigarette against his ashtray, premature. _Immature._ No wonder.

He went on, "Looks like EDI extracted some interesting data before the Collector ship came back online."

"Cut the act," said Shepard. "You set us up. And you'd better have a damn good reason for it."

"We needed information on the Omega 4 Relay. That required direct access to Collector data. It was too good an opportunity to pass up."

"That may be true. But I don't like surprises. Especially when my team's asses are on the line."

"I put you at risk, yes," he conceded. "Without that information, we don't reach the Collector homeworld. The tools I have at our disposal are useless. And you and every other human may as well be dead." The Illusive Man _looked_ at ease, yet he kept boring his eyes into mine. Trying to unsettle me. Trying to unnerve me. "It was a trap…but I was confident in your abilities. Yours, Shepard, and Aria's. And don't forget EDI. The Collectors couldn't have anticipated her. You made the right choice when you unshackled her. The _Normandy_ will be safe from the Collectors' interference."

Shepard seemed to speak on more than just this moment: "You could have told me the plan. You say I'm important, but you sure try your hardest to get me killed."

"I needed the Collectors to believe they had the upper-hand. Telling you could have tipped them off in any number of ways. Besides, I wouldn't have sent you in if I didn't think you could succeed."

"You have one job—information. If I can't trust your intel, you're useless to me."

The Illusive Man claimed, "It's never that simple. You of all people should know that. Things are about to get a lot tougher. EDI confirmed our suspicions. The Reapers and Collector ships use an advanced Identify Friend/Foe system that the relays recognize. You can use these IFFs to cross through the Omega 4 Relay safely. Without the IFF, there's no telling what will happen. You need one of these to proceed."

"Right," droned Shepard. "And how do we get our hands on one of these IFFs?"

"It's already taken care of. I'm currently in possession of an IFF. But I'm not handing it over that easily."

"If you had one this whole time, why didn't you say something? You really just sat on this thing?"

"Shepard, you know me better than that," said the Illusive Man. "This IFF came from a derelict Reaper. An Alliance science team had determined that the 'Great Rift' on the planet Klendagon was actually an impact crater from a mass accelerator weapon. A very old mass accelerator, linked to a weapon and a target. Luckily, I didn't need to send a team in to investigate any further. The IFF unexpectedly came into my possession."

"When? _How?"_

The Illusive Man settled on drinking from his short glass of alcohol, ice cubes clinking in annoyance.

Shepard demanded to know, "Then what can you tell us? Or do you plan on holding this IFF hostage?"

"You aren't ready to hit the Omega 4 Relay yet. Some of your crew are unfocused. They have unfinished business you need to assist them with. As soon as you're prepared to set off, I'll tell you how to acquire the IFF from me. Unless you've decided you don't care, and you'd rather leave now. Considering what you discovered on the Collector ship, I would understand your choice, your point of view."

Shepard had only helped maybe a handful of her team with their personal business so far.

They couldn't possibly leave this soon.

She knew it, too.

"Just as I thought. Leaving now would be reckless. That isn't like you."

"Giving yourself away _isn't_ _like_ _you,_ either."

The Illusive Man went quiet.

I stared at Shepard, wondering what the hell this was about.

"I'll let you think on that," she asserted. "Because you're not going to manipulate me. Any decision I make with you—or Miranda—will be of sound mind. I see you for what you are. I'm not falling for it. So if I go along with your plans from this day forward, it's not to benefit you. I know where you're headed. And I know exactly how your story ends. Working with you is only a means to that end. Nothing more."

The Illusive Man still stayed silent.

He just seemed so…quietly defeated.

Shepard took me with her out of the call. Away from the QEC and back to the comm room.

In this calm quiet, I wanted to ask questions. I wanted to know what she knew. _I wanted more than that._

But these walls had eyes. We couldn't speak freely here.

Shepard decided for me, "You should get back home, Aria. I know you dropped everything to come help us. I appreciate that. I really do. We wouldn't have gotten out of there without you."

"That's what I'm here for," I reminded her. As if she needed reminding.

There was just _so much more_ I wanted to tell her. Yet I couldn't say those things right now.

So I asked instead, "What will you be up to in the meantime?"

"I promised Kasumi I'd help her out soon. I'll be busy with that in a couple of days. The next scheduled event is Mordin's game I told you about. We'll be up against a 'real' Reaper. Even with all this uncertainty, I still want us to run the simulation on the Citadel. I want to see how the whole team works together in that situation. Should be ready in a couple of weeks or so. We'll meet up then."

"I'll be there. Just let me know when. Like always."

"I will."

I didn't want this conversation to end.

I didn't want to leave her on this ship without me.

Not after what happened today. All of my worst fears about Cerberus had come true.

But Shepard had held her own. Exactly like I knew she would. So I found my trust in her. The two of us agreed to part ways for now. We didn't have the goodbye I wanted. I couldn't hold her, kiss her, or even give her these words I held inside, close to combusting in my heart at this point. These dangers with Cerberus sadly intersected with Shepard's need for time and space. I wanted to believe she wouldn't keep me waiting for too long. I wanted to believe that maybe we would see each other much sooner. She'd made me believe again. She'd given me back my hopes and dreams for myself, beyond Omega and beyond everything else I'd already known. If we survived this day, then we could survive anything.


End file.
